Fluffbruary with turtely
(missed days edition)
Day 18
[day 17] [day 19]
prompts: recovery | flight | film by @fluffbruary
fandom: BBC Sherlock
will be uploaded to "That Stuff Called Fluff" on Ao3!
A/N: this is more hurt/comfort than fluff i hope that's okay. entirely inspired by this post. also: this is long! be prepared!
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John Watson, the flight attendant on the aircraft from LHR, United Kingdom to PAR, France, noticed the nervous passenger at first glance. Sweat damping curly dark brown hair, fingers twitching, eyes already looking for emergency exit signs.
John greeted him with a friendly smile and directed him down the aisle where he could find his seat.
As soon as the passenger sat in his seat (21D), his legs started bouncing. John memorized the seat number just in case.
And the case was as soon as they had taken off. The passenger's face had turned extremely pale and his breathing became faster and faster. His knuckles turning white, because he gripped the seatrests so tightly.
John couldn't take it anymore. He walked over to the man. "Good morning, sir. May I ask if this is your first time flying?", he questioned.
The man barely gave him a look, stared straight ahead and shook his head tightly. "Don't like planes much. Please don't lecture me how 'the risk of dying in a car crash is far higher than in a flight crash', I know that." The passenger grumbled through his teeth. "People just seem to neglect the fact that IN CASE you crash with an aero plane, you fall from the sky, approximately from around 33.000 to 42.000 feet. The impact this would cause to a human body is-"
"Alright. You seem pretty damn smart for having half a panic attack there.", John said, something about the man letting him drop the mask of politeness he usually wore as a steward.
"It's called aviatophobia."
John smiled. "They say calling the fear by its name takes away its scariness."
"I wouldn't necessarily agree." The passenger argued, his legs still bouncing and his eyes still haunted.
John bandied looks with Sarah, his co-worker, who gave him a thumbs up. So John crossed his legs and let himself glide to the floor. He held out his hand. "Haven't introduced myself yet, have I? John Watson. What's your name, if I may ask?"
"Sherlock Holmes.", the man replied, taking John's hand in his own. Finally he looked, no - studied - John's person. The anxious passenger had an incredible face. Unique. Eyes changing colors every time he laid them on another object of interest. High cheekbones. Lips, perfectly shaped. It was an angular face, not fitting into any beauty standards and yet remarkably gorgeous. Briefly John wondered what those lips would taste like, but he quickly pushed this thought away. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes."
The passenger still held his hand in his and looked intensely into his eyes. "Sherlock will do."
John nodded, "Alright, Sherlock." The flight attendant liked how that name on the one hand rolled off his tongue but on the other hand had a hard ending. In some way, it suited the man in front of him. "What are you doing in Paris, at this time of year?", It was the middle of the winter, but the snow seemed to refuse to agree with that and stayed in the comfort of the clouds.
"Sightseeing.", Sherlock simply replied, and looked away.
John scoffed, "Yeah, right", he said.
The passenger's head whipped around. "Why are you laughing?"
"A bloke like you sightseeing? You are wearing too expensive of a suit for that. And why would you take the plane if you clearly have a fear of flying? The train connects pretty conveniently nowadays. It doesn't make sense. It has to be something urgent."
Sherlock's intense eyes glared at him again, and John felt a bit hot. This guy had some effect on him... if he wasn't in this situation of him being a flight attendant trying to prevent a passenger from panicking, and they were in a pub or something... John would probably even take his chances.
"Not as stupid as I thought you'd be.", the other man stated.
John laughed at the directness of his conversational partner. "Well, I'd hope they wouldn't give a doctor's degree to complete idiots."
Sherlock cocked his head slightly, the initial anxiousness obviously slowly fading. "What does a man with a doctor degree do on board of an airplane?"
"Oh, it's a long story..."
"Elaborate. I insist."
The two man continued talking like this. Sherlock in his seat, John on the floor, their hands intertwined. Sherlock occasionally gripping John's hand tighter when turbulences occurred, John casually explaining how it came to those. Sherlock seemed to know most of it already, but apparently John's voice seemed to calm him down. After a while, John had to walk through with a cart to offer beverages to all passengers. When he was done, John had hoped Sherlock would have kept the calm from their conversation, but apparently the fear had come to the surface again.
John didn't think for long; He grabbed two cups of coffee and headed back to his problem child, who was his favorite passenger at the same time. Together they drank their coffees, Sherlock holding on to John for dear life and they shared more about their life, anecdotes and thoughts. John felt bad about it, but he was almost glad Sherlock suffered from aviatophobia, because otherwise, he probably would never have gotten to exchange words with the fascinating man.
When 1 hour and 15 minutes have passed, they finally landed. Reluctantly, John had to take a seat away from Sherlock and the other passengers to stay safe. He kept clenching his fist, when suddenly a voice caught his attention. "He'll be alright. Stop worrying." It was Sarah.
"I know. But I am... worried.", John said, embarrassed about already feeling attached to the almost-stranger.
"You know what I think you should do?", Sarah asked. John opened his mouth but was interrupted, "Give him your number. And don't give me your 'But I am not gay' bullshit, either. We both know that's not quite true. Trust me. I know that look on your face. Give. him. your. number. Or I will.", She casually said but John knew she was right.
For a minute he sat there in awkward silence but finally his heart won over his head and he frantically searched for a piece of paper and pen.
Before the seat belt sign turned off, John used the opportunity to slip Sherlock his little note. He already walked away when he turned around and saw Sherlock's confusion in his face. The man pointed at himself and mouthed 'Me?'
John nodded enthusiastically and mouthed, 'Yes, of course. You.' back. To make sure there was no doubt he made fist, stuck his pinky and thumb out and shook his hand close to his ear, 'Call me'.
When everyone had left the plane, John's phone dinged.
John? SH
Attendant. JW
Did you seriously think I addressed anyone other but you with my note? JW
Funny. SH
Needed to be sure. SH
Well, be assured then ;) JW
Call me. Hopefully we'll get to know each other in a more comfortable atmosphere. JW
Wouldn't want to miss it. SH
Good. Me neither. JW
Call you later? SH
Oh, god. Yes. JW
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A/N: endings are hard :( feedback is so so precious to me! please don't hesitate to give constructive criticism or anything else, as a matter of fact. love you! thanks for reading! *throws badly cut out paper hearts at you*
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