The Improbable One

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

Hi everyone.

First of all, we’re sorry for disappearing like we did. After the Irene Adler case, we decided that we were owed a little break (read: Sherlock woke me up the morning after the case was concluded by throwing my suitcase on the bed and pulling our clothes from the closet, announcing that we were leaving 221B for a while). By the time I realised it wasn’t for a new case, we were already halfway to Sussex. Apparently, the Holmes family has a cottage here, but, unfortunately, the wifi is nonexistent.

So, here we are now, on our own, with the sea air surrounding us and the sound of seagulls as our alarm clock.

Anyway, Irene Adler. She’s… well, I can’t disclose too much information due to its sensitivity, but I can safely say that Sherlock has saved the day, yet again. When Irene showed up at our flat, she was in danger. She had faked her death and hid her phone with Sherlock, to get away from those who were out to get her and coming back endangered not only her, but her girlfriend Kate as well. That phone was the only thing she had to use to keep them safe. Page after page of sensitive information, all locked away with a code only she knew. Not even Sherlock could figure it out.

And she used it. She used Sherlock to crack a code (I can’t divulge in this further, so don’t ask) and Irene sent it on. To Moriarty. She had been working for him, all this time! And we fell for it.

It was a close call, but Sherlock figured it out. God, he was brilliant. The moment he realised what the code was, I couldn’t believe that he even real. I know we’ve both said on multiple occasions that not everything is about me… but this was. She must have changed her password when she met us, so it spelled JOHN. Unbelievable!

Sherlock was down, beaten, ridiculed and he managed to come out on top anyway. It’s over now. Irene Adler has disappeared from our view - although Sherlock does not appear too worried about her wellbeing. I’ll be happy if she stays away, to be honest.

But enough about her. That’s over and done with. On the one hand, I’m grateful to her. Without her, I never would have - well, I’m not sure how long it would have taken for Sherlock and I to tell each other how we felt without her interference. I’m currently basking in the sun, laptop on my lap, and I’m typing one-handed because next to me is an amazingly brilliant and gorgeous man, scrolling through his phone whilst holding my hand with his free one.

So… ta for that, Irene Adler. And good luck to you, wherever you are.

[pilottheimprobableone]

he's too good for you.

[pilotscienceofdeduction]

JjohN!!!!!! THE WOMAN. She’s here! Been here. Was here? Need you. Come back

[pilotscienceofdeduction]

jOHn where ARE YOU?????????????????????????

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

I’ll be back in a minute, you can go back to sleep if you want. I think there’s a set of pyjamas under my pillow, they’ll be a little too short but you’ll be more comfortable that way.

You know, you could have just called me instead of putting it on your blog. At least I have notifications on so I saw this right away.

[pilottheimprobableone]

this is embarrassing. i thought you were supposed to keep him safe, doctor watson.

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

Sherlock has said that he’s not leaving the flat for ‘anything less than a seven’. I’m flattered!

[pilottheimprobableone]

can't imagine why. even a two is more interesting than you.

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

Please tell me you had sex.

For God’s sake, why are you all so obsessed with my love life? Where’s a man’s privacy when he needs it.

(Yes we did, it was fantastic)

[pilotscienceofdeduction]

I, apparently, received several anonymously sent questions last night, asking me the same thing. Allow me to give you a clue: I’ve been in John’s bed for 14 hours and 16 minutes. I’ll leave you to your deductions.

 Although John is not currently in said bed. @pilotjohnwatsonblog come back upstairs. 

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

Thought you were still dozing, so I popped down to get some tea and toast. We need to eat something.

[pilotscienceofdeduction]

Later, John. Please come back upstairs. 

[pilottheimprobableone]

you can do better than him, sherlock.

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

Last night was one of the worst, and then one of the best - if not the best - nights of my life. Too much happened for me to go into any detail, but we survived. As we always do.

To cut a very long story short we finally met this ‘Moriarty’ figure that people kept on warning us of. He kidnapped me and set snipers on Sherlock and myself at the swimming pool where Moriarty had killed Carl Powers all those years ago. We had no way out, and with a single shared look, Sherlock and I decided that to get rid of the evil that is James Moriarty, we needed to sacrifice ourselves.

We got out, thankfully - a well timed phone call can literally save lives. And I’ve never felt a rush like it. Sherlock had been… uncommunicative recently and I think he was pushing me away because he was worried that being together would be too dangerous. But the moment Moriarty left us alone in that pool it was like the air had been electrified. Sherlock was back and we were us again. Except it was more. And we finally acknowledged that it had always been more.

One thing led to another and… well, I think it’s sufficed to say people will have reason to talk about us now. God, we should have done this sooner. We should have made that leap because it is so worth it… he’s so worth it.

I’ll update more soon. I just wanted to let you know that we’re alright. At least, I think we are. For now, I’m just going to let him sleep. He looks beautiful while he’s asleep. I’m a very, very lucky man, in more ways than I ever hoped.

[pilottheimprobableone]

you don’t deserve him

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

Sherlock’s fine. Just let his phone die, the insufferable bastard! I got back to the flat and his brother was there, giving us a case, but Sherlock wouldn’t take it. He said we were swamped with work, that he couldn’t possibly spare the time. Personally, I don’t think he wants to help his brother at all. I wonder why he even bothers. When Mycroft left, I wanted to -

We need to talk about this, whatever this is, but we were summoned to Scotland Yard before I could even try. I guess it’ll have to wait. The Work has to come first, apparently.

When we arrived at the Yard, Lestrade presented us with a pink phone.

Just like the one from our first case. Exactly like the one from our first case. There was nothing on it. Just one voicemail. Five pips. Sherlock said it was a warning of some kind. A puzzle for him to solve.

That phone… they wouldn’t know how it looked like unless they read the blog, but even then, they couldn’t have matched the details so precisely. Something tells me that this is bigger than we are expecting.

[pilottheimprobableone]

your writing style is terrible

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

A Study in Pink

The other night my entire life changed, I think for the better, and I want to tell you about it. So this is what happened on the night I moved in with Sherlock Holmes.

When I first met Sherlock, he told me my life story. He could tell so much about me from my limp, my tan and my mobile phone. And that’s the thing with him. It’s no use trying to hide who you are (or what you are, which scares me more) because Sherlock sees right through everyone and everything in seconds. It’s remarkable but terrifying. What’s incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things.

This morning, for example, he asked me who the Prime Minister was. Last week he seemed to genuinely not know the Earth goes round the Sun. Seriously. He didn’t know. He didn’t think the Sun went round the Earth or anything. He just didn’t care. I still can’t quite believe it, and he’s not taken kindly to me spontaneously laughing about it. In so many ways, he’s the cleverest, most incredible person I’ve ever met but there are these blank spots that partly worry me and partly brighten my day (knowing something that Sherlock doesn’t brings a sort of thrill). At least I’ve got used to him now. Well, I say that, I suspect I’ll never really get used to him. He is like no one else I’ve ever met. It’s just, on that first night, I literally had no idea of what was to come. I mean, how could I? I’ve come to learn that when you’re with Sherlock Holmes, everything is an adventure.

Keep reading

[harrywatsoncomments]

OMG!! Have you two fucked yet??!

[pilotjohnwatsonblog-blog]

Kids might be reading this Harry.

[pilottheimprobableone]

of course if i was sherlock's colleague we would have solved this case much earlier. how could you not realise the suitcase would be pink? i'm an expert on sherlock holmes. i understand him which is something someone like you would never do

[pilottheimprobableone]

mr holmes there is a spare room in my flat if you would like it

[pilotscienceofdeduction]

Got somewhere, thanks.

[pilottheimprobableone]

its yours if you want it

[pilottheimprobableone]

if you ever wanted to meet for a drink that would be fun

[pilottheimprobableone]

mr holmes there is a spare room in my flat if you would like it

[pilotscienceofdeduction]

Got somewhere, thanks.

[pilottheimprobableone]

its yours if you want it

[pilottheimprobableone]

mr holmes there is a spare room in my flat if you would like it