Chapter Text
John finished fixing the knot of his expensive black tie, trying to copy the instructions Janet was telling him. He sighed, moving the tie back and forth, trying to get it to that "perfect spot".
'Like that really exist,' he sighed mentally.
'I heard that,' Janet said, deciding to move John's hands to do it herself. 'If you don't like the way I tell you how to dress, especially after you asked me, then don't ask me for my help in the future,' she said half heartily. She stepped back and let John take over.
"It's not that. I'm just wondering why I have to be the one going out to this event tonight. Isn't my social life usually your job?"
'It usually is, but you have to meet these people and socialize with them. At least so that you are familiar with names and faces. You don't want a repeat of the incident with Sam.'
Sam was a "friend" and classmate of John who seemed to suddenly decide that she wanted to stick to John as close as she could. The only problem was that John had no idea who the hell this person was. When she decided to randomly show up at his flat to "study", he threatened to call the police on her for stalking. It was when she was half way down the street crying, Janet had told him he had just run off his best female friend. Since then, it had been mandatory for all personalities to learn important or frequent friends and colleagues.
"It's not my fault she just randomly showed up at my flat to study. You should have warned me about the people you classify as my classmates and friends."
'That's why we're doing this tonight. You meet a few people, you get an award, you get to have fun.'
"You know I'm not going to talk to anyone. I'm not the conversation personality."
'At least make an effort. Who knows who you meet.'
John made a doubtful face in the mirror.
'Who knows what might happen tonight. Maybe you'll even take someone home...'
John rolled his eyes but smiled.
"Not likely to happen. Who would take me home; someone who shares a body with three other people."
'Just...at least try to forget about us tonight.'
"As if I can really forget about you guys in there. If you're not talking to me directly, your influences surround me. Just look at this white suit."
'Why would Matt even choose this to wear?' Janet asked, wrinkling her nose.
"I think it's to get back at me for refusing to wear that choker last week. Good thing you could dress it up."
'John, you must remember that this is my body too. If you look bad, I look bad. If I look bad, no one's happy.'
John laughed and straightened out his suit before turning towards the full length mirror. He liked the black trimmings around the edges and pockets that threw off some of the blandness of the all-white suit. That was the thing that bothered him the most. He wasn't sure if he could keep the white three-piece suit clean throughout the night. The color made him anxious and uneasy.
'Relax, John. You're going to tense yourself up over unimportant details.'
"I don't know if I can do it,' John said with a frown. "What if I screw something up or freeze? People will think of me badly or not take me seriously. I can be the laughing stock of my whole class. Of all of my sponsors."
Johns eyes grew wide as he started to hyperventilate at all of the worst possible scenarios.
'JOHN!' Janet snapped. 'Look, I promise you, if I believe that you are in serious need of me or Chad, we will step in,' she said in a long-suffering and frustrated tone. 'I assure you.'
John sat down and put his head between his knees. As he tried to control his breathing, he nodded, feeling a little better.
He sat up and looked at himself in the full- length mirror. "Alright. I can do this. Yeah, I'll be fine. Sorry, Janet, and thank you."
'It's fine. Just, don't talk to any of us in the public setting. I'll make sure Matt is behaved and won't bother you tonight. Alright?'
John took a couple of deep breathes. "Yes, okay. I'm ready. Let's get this thing over with."
'That's...kind of the spirit. Have fun. At least try to meet someone.'
"Again, no promises," he laughed, "but thanks. I'll...talk to you later? or something...yeah."
'Just go John,' she sighed, exasperated.
John got up, dusted off his suit, and grabbed his keys before making his way to the Surgeon's Sponsor Night.
Just as John guessed, he ended up in the corner next to the drink table. There had been a few people that had come up to him (apparently friends?), but he shied them off; not really connecting with them like he was known to do. The white suit also seemed to be an invite for many interested party members to try to come and chat him up. They also got the same treatment, getting the message that he interested.
He sighed and took another sip from his drink, suspicious that he might be a tad bit tipsy. Not that he minded much. He didn't care enough about the people here to give them his best impression.
People eyed him as they walked by, but no one knew made any move to approach him or try to council him about his drinking.
'John, pull yourself together. You're supposed to be trying!' Janet whispered angrily to him. He snorted.
"And I told you that I wouldn't be good at it," he said aloud before thinking.
'Shh...!' she shouted. 'John. You're not supposed to talk to me.' John nodded. 'Okay... stand up straight,' she said as John complied, 'dust yourself off,' he did so, 'and don't scare off the man who has been staring at you for the last minute and is now making his way over here.'
"Wait, what?!" he asked, shocking himself sober.
A tall, thin man, well dressed man made his way over and stood before him with a nice, pearly white smile.
"Sherlock Holmes," he introduced himself.
Sherlock had received a tip that a rogue doctor has had a number of "accidental deaths" recently was attending this ceremony tonight. He had limited down the culprits to a group of surgeons who worked at the same time these "accidental deaths" had happened. So, for the last hour, he had been gathering information from the crowd of doctors and surgeons about their classmates and predecessors.
He was confident he had come to the right conclusion on who the killer was; he was just waiting for the opportune time to announce his conclusion and deductions. He wasn't sure how the man would act, so he thought he'd play it low key and subtly approach him. He had to wait, though, until the detective inspector and his cronies arrived in case he did something irrational.
He saw a young man in a white off-black suit standing next a drink table. Not too far behind him, his suspect stood, talking to another college in the corner. He decided he needed to stick as close as he could to the suspect without spooking him off.
He walked up to the (he had to admit) handsome looking man. He would have thought that it would seem weird to wear such a contrasting suit (compared to everyone's black suits), but it only made to highlight his features and make him stand out from the crowd in a way that worked for him.
He wasn't surrounded by any one and seemed completely oblivious to the fake red-head in a dangerously low-cut black dress eyeing him like he was candy. He didn't seem too interactive with anyone here, yet, he had to have spent his earlier adult life with his colleagues in this line of work. Was there a story here? It didn't seem as if anyone in the room was against him, and no one spoke hushed words about him. Something must have been…different about him tonight. Interesting….
The man's eyes grew wide as he approached. He wondered if it would be best to forget trying to talk to him, but as he got closer, the man quickly downed the rest of his drink he was holding and steeled himself for Sherlock's arrival.
Sherlock wondered if he was almost as [nervous?] as he was. He scoffed at the disgusting human emotion, but couldn't helped but feel intrigued by this person.
Tie- "perfect" Windsor knot. Woman's influence.
Suit- most likely a slightly older man influence his clothing choices. Obviously forced to wear it. Woman re-decorated it. Most likely a revenge thing.
Squared shoulders and give off an air of maturity. Army influence. Short term. Another older man, but more mature. More brother figure than friend.
No connection between any of these people, but there has to be something that connects them somewhere. Not rich, so they're not servant, but neither are they friends. No disabilities that requires him to have anyone dress him.
No conclusive data.
A mystery. Interesting.
Sherlock put on his least intimidating smile as he stood in front of this new mystery.
"Sherlock Holmes."