Work Text:
Tea n'
Biscuits, a small café about a block from Dr. John Watson’s clinic – mid
afternoon
Arianna sighed in frustration, and asked the clerk very calmly and slowly, again, “Can you exchange American currency into pounds?” The clerk, having a very thick accent from some remote portion of the British Iles, babbled unintelligibly, pointed to the cash register and the wallet in her hand. Hoping she understood the non-verbal indicators, she handed the man a twenty dollar bill, smiling, and said, “Thank you.” When the clerk handed her a five pound note, nodding and babbling, Arianna frowned. She pulled out a paper she’d printed that morning at her sister’s apartment. Mentally she corrected herself, Oh, it’s called a flat, here. I have to keep my terminology straight. Arianna did the math in her head and shook her head, “This isn’t correct.” She tried to show the clerk the paper, pointing to the exchange rate, “It is not four dollars to a pound, sir.” The clerk babbled, ignoring the paper and seemed to start getting angry. Arianna was also getting mad and embarrassed, especially since there was now a line of several people waiting patiently behind her. Mumbling to herself, while trying not to make a scene, she said, “All I wanted was a cup of tea and change for the bus.” To her horror she found her eyes were beginning to fill with tears of frustration.
A fair-haired man, several inches taller than she, stepped up next to her at the counter. Arianna didn’t look at him, trying to suppress the blush that rose to her cheeks as he said, “Joke’s gone on long enough, McFinis. Give the lady back her money and give the lady a cuppa. We all know, you know exactly what she was asking. You don’t want your regulars,” he waves to himself and the people behind Arianna, “to think that you’d try to cheat them if the chance arose.”
The clerk frowned, and Arianna managed to make out, “Wa’ jus pla’n a jok, Doc.” With that the clerk pulled the twenty back out of the register and quickly poured out a cup of tea in a to-go cup, handing both over to her. Arianna blinked trying not to let the tears fall as she handed back the five pound note. She nodded and accepted his shrug for the apology she figured it was meant to be, or at least the acknowledgment that he’d gotten caught at his trick.
Arianna moved away from the counter and turned to see the stranger make his order, since he had been next in line and apparently right behind her the whole time. She blushed, realizing that he must have heard her. She was out of the way of the line, but close enough to observe the man.
Arianna absorbed the fact that he paid ‘McFinis’ for her tea, along with his meal. She noted with a bit of astonishment that he smiled in her direction, nodding once and then turned back to the counter, focusing entirely on his task at hand. She wondered if the slight blush on his cheeks was because of her scrutiny. She noted that he didn’t have any rings or other jewelry that denoted attachment or marriage, though a large, square watch with a black band did adorn his wrist. She was slightly fascinated by his hands, which looked sturdy and strong, yet delicate at the same time. Artisan? Surgeon? Arianna wondered, as she took in his neat appearance, his checkered button down shirt that just poked out of the top of his tan sweater, his brown slacks, his well worn shoes, his military baring and short hair cut. His hair was just a few inches long to be regulation. So if he’s military, he’s most likely former military, but relatively recently out . . . at least within the last year. Arianna smiled, Old habits die hard. She pondered everything she was seeing about the man, thoroughly intrigued at the diverse combination of contrasting information the man seemed to represent.
Arianna watched his ease with the clerk. He’s a regular, so definitely a local. Probably works in the area. She caught how he checked his cell twice while his order was put together. Checking the time? She noticed him check his watch a second later. Okay, that’s not it, than. Ordering for someone? She watched his order being put together and it was really only enough for one person. Probably checking his texts for some other reason, then . . . Maybe a significant other, though there’s always a chance it’s a family member or a friend.
She smiled, discretely wiping her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears he’d saved her from spilling. She was utterly grateful to him for keeping those tears from falling, since she despised crying for any reason and she wanted to express that to this Good Samaritan. No, this good man, she corrected her thoughts as she noticed just how well he filled the deceivingly baggy clothes with broad shoulders and runners’ legs. With resolve, she was determined, I have to say something. No, I have to say thank you! He’ll probably try to act as if nothing happened. He seems like the type. A small voice deep inside whispered, “You like that type . . . a lot!” Arianna promptly squished that voice and told it to shut the heck up, she was nervous and embarrassed enough as is.
Ari had been correct in her thoughts as the man nodded to her again, a soft smile on his lips. He was a few steps from the counter, heading for the exit, when she said with soft intensity, “Wait! Please?” He stopped with a puzzled expression on his face, “Please, I want to thank you.” With an artist’s eye, Arianna noted how expressive his face seemed to be and smiled. She’d always loved expressive faces.
His cheeks tinted handsomely and Arianna was drawn to the crinkled laugh lines at the sides of his eyes, “Oh, no need.” He waved his hand, gesturing that he didn’t feel it necessary, as if it were his duty to do what he did, “McFinis can be a git sometimes. He knows most foreigners don’t understand what he says,” he laughed shortly, “Frankly most locals can’t make out more than a word or two of what he says unless he wants them to know what he’s saying.”
Arianna laughed with his sentiment and his words cheered her. She held eye contact with the stranger, taking a step closer, “Please?” She reached for his arm, touching it gently, tentatively, “You saved me.” Smiling a knowing little smile, she leaned in conspiratorially; she motioned with her head and winked, “Besides, I saw you pay for my drink.” She smiled fully at his surprise, “You didn’t have to do that, he more than owed me for a cup of tea with that stunt he pulled.” Arianna watched his reaction and continued, “And since you paid for it, maybe we could sit and talk over it,” she raised the cup in her hand to show what she meant.
The man’s eyes widened slightly and then he smiled, laughing, “You remind me of a friend of mine.”
Arianna’s eyebrows rose and she straightened in surprise, “Really?”
The man nodded, smiling fondly, “Yes, my flat mate, actually.”
Not married, than. Yay! But he might still have a boy or girl friend. Arianna noticed him check his cell again and asked hesitantly, “Do you have time? Or would you like to maybe meet after. . .” Arianna trailed off, hesitantly, not wanting to say work, even though she was more than a little sure that, that was what he would be returning to, with what appeared to be his lunch in hand.
He looked up from his cell, surprised, “Yes, I have time.” He smiled, “Actually, I’m on break.”
Arianna silently indicated an empty set of table and chairs, just outside the café, near the window and he nodded, heading toward them. She was curious to see if her thoughts had been accurate, which they normally were, so she asked, “What do you do?”
Both sat down, opposite of the tiny table, “Oh, I work at the clinic just up the road. I’m a doctor.”
Arianna nodded, I was right. “How interesting!” Smiling, she said, “Please, go ahead and eat. If this is your lunch break, I do not want to keep you from eating.”
He smiled even wider, “Thank you,” and unpacked the paper sack onto the table, “By the way, my name’s John, John Watson.”
Arianna smiled beautifully, “It is sincerely a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Watson.” She paused, “I mean, Doctor Watson.” She noticed him smile at her correction, “I’m Arianna Preston.” Arianna noted what John unpacked as they talked, a butcher paper wrapped sandwich with several kinds of vegetables on it and a small plastic container of some form of cold pasta, vegetable, and olive salad. Combined with the tea he’d ordered, she liked his rather healthy eating choices. She’d seen many doctors preach about healthy habits, but stray far from what they spoke of, more often than not.
John frowned, playfully, his forehead wrinkling adorably, “Oh, please! Call me John.”
Arianna laughed and nodded, “Okay, but only if you call me Ari. That’s what all my friends call me.” She tilted her head slightly, “I think we could be good friends.”
John blinked and was taken aback slightly, having dealt with some pretty unsavory characters in both the military and while investigating crimes with Sherlock, her words struck him as being more than a little odd, but her genuine happiness seemed to ease some of the tension. It eased further when she sat straight and said, “Oh dear! I’m sorry! That did sound odd, didn’t it?” John was further relieved and quite amused when she blushed and looked down, “Sorry. I tend to blurt things out, without thinking . . . often, especially when I’m nervous.”
John had to laugh as her blush increased, “It’s okay. My flat mate says much stranger things . . . and at the most random of times. I promise you I’ve heard worse.”
That got her attention. She looked up in curiosity, “Really?”
John nodded emphatically, “You would not believe some of the things I have to put up with.” Mentally, John started a list which started with shooting walls when bored and did not end with the constant whining of being bored when he didn’t have a case to work on.
Laughing to himself at the growing mental list, John was caught off guard as he noticed Ari’s eyes, which seemed to light up and almost sparkle. He’d never thought brown was a color that could sparkle, but here he was looking at the beauty of that exact thing. He was slightly thrown when her words made him have to think past the intensity of the light shining in her eyes, “I love stories. Would you tell me some of them?” John frowned in puzzlement, “Oh! Goodness, I sound completely nuts, don’t I?” Ari covered her eyes with her hand, which allowed John to actually concentrate on her words and not her eyes, “I’m sorry . . . again.” He’s not saying much. I hope he doesn’t think I’m a complete nutcase! I have to explain so I don’t sound so far off the deep end. She looked up with one eye still covered, bashful, but trying to explain. Her blush having become almost crimson, she said, “I’m an Anthropology student. I specialize in Cultural Anthropology, but my secondary focus is in Folklore. My minor’s Art, though.” She seemed to become more at ease as she went on, putting her hands on the table, “I’m not some insane person who gets off on living vicariously through other people’s lives. I swear!” Her expression was apologetic, yet completely genuine, “I just love interesting tales and you seem like you might have a few.” Ari shrugged and began to talk with her hands, animatedly, seeming to say everything she was thinking and not reserving anything, “Well, everyone likes to be entertained and in their own way, everyone loves stories, but not everyone finds the stories I like as interesting as I do.”
John watched in amusement as he let the young girl express herself in a monologue, being used to much more verbose ranting from Sherlock, “That’s why I actually became an Anthropologist.” Ari stopped and self-corrected, “Well, not yet. I’m a student, of course. It’s why I’m training to be an Anthropologist.” She smiled up at him, “I find people fascinating and I want to know ‘Why?’ about and for everything.” Her enthusiasm was infectious and John found himself nodding at her words, as he ate his lunch, “I mean, how can you not want to know the real reasons behind why people do the things they do? Not the reasons they tell themselves, mind you, but the real reasons, the underlying truths.” John couldn’t help but be reminded sharply of Sherlock once again as he listened to the young woman, “I want to learn the truths that govern all societies, the rules and laws that all societies use to govern themselves, the ones they follow that help them function . . . and even the ones that cause destruction to those civilizations!” John smiled around a bite of his sandwich, “I want to know it all. I want to know all their stories.” Ari’s voice had slightly increased in volume and intensity. She wondered vaguely if she were boring him and prayed he understood what she meant. Oh goddess, I hope I don’t sound too obsessive or fanatical!
John could tell she really loved what she was studying. As she spoke, he kept having to look away from her shining eyes or he lost a few of her words as he took bites of his food. “The stories they use to explain the world around them just show the variety of the brightly colored versions of what people see.” Smiling at her words, he wondered if Ari shouldn’t go into teaching with the passion she was showing, “It’s their interpretation and perspective of reality, which is different for every individual, let alone their village, town, city, society, state, country, or even continent.” Ari made sure to catch his eyes as she leaned closer unconsciously, “I mean think about it. Sitting next to you is someone who grew up in a completely different background from you, but you didn’t even hesitate to come to my aid when you saw what you considered an injustice.” John smiled, shrugging as she continued, “There were five other people behind you, waiting in line, who saw the exact same situation, but who did absolutely nothing.” Ari smiled, “You, sir, are unique and have your own honor code.” John paused in his chewing, frowning in concentration as he listened more closely to her, to what she was saying. Her words had an air of familiarity to them, “You value justice and equality. I bet you were even in the military . . . or wanted to be, if you weren’t.”
John swallowed what was in his mouth and put his sandwich down, her words having captured his entire attention, “Although you’re a doctor,” she seemed to pause and contemplate aloud, “So many of the doctors nowadays go into the profession purely for the monetary benefits.” She looked at him intensely and shook her head, “But you do not strike me as that sort.” John was taken aback by her comments and her keen eyes, “You seem like you would go into combat just to try to help, not for the glory it’s supposed to add to status and station.” She sighed, resignation in her voice, “Although, I don’t know very much about the British mentality and mental set,” she shrugged, correcting herself again, “Or not as much as I’d like, but I’ve found that most people are fundamentally the same, wanting the same things, just going about it differently and with different means, all over the world.”
She stopped suddenly as her train of thought seemed to come to an end. She looked up to him, seeming to realize just how much she’d said, her eyes widening. Oh no! What did I just say? Ari covered her nose and mouth with both hands as her cheeks flushed again. Oh no! No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! Oh goddess! He’s going to freak! Through her hands, she said muffled, “Oh my goddess. I’m so sorry.” Ari tensed, body ready to bolt at the first sign of anger, I have to get out of here before he starts to yell. I am so stupid!
John, seeing the horror in her eyes, realized she was about to run away. He smiled reassuringly, leaned over the tiny table, put a hand on her forearm, and said simply, “It’s okay.”
Ari met his eyes; nose and mouth still covered by her hands and searched his face. All she saw there was wonder, amusement, and curiosity. A slight chill went down her spine as she realized she hadn’t just pissed him off, nor had she apparently offended him. Putting her hands down, she asked hesitantly, in awe, “You aren’t mad?”
John laughed, pulling his hand back and shaking his head, “No. Funny enough, my flat mate did almost exactly what you just did the very first day we met, as well.” She blinked, twice, absorbing that knowledge and filing it away for further contemplation. “I just haven’t had someone deduce so much about me in a while, so I was a bit surprised. That’s all. That’s a real gift you have, there.”
At his sincere words, Ari seeming to deflate in relief. She almost sagged in her chair and breathed out heavily. She looked at John, seeing him for the real treasure he was and deciding then and there that she wanted to get to know this fantastic man further. “You are a wonder.” She gave him a lopsided smile, “I’ve only ever gotten that reaction from my best friend and my own family. Never from a man,” she seemed to catch herself, “Well, until you.” She straightened up in the chair, adjusted her cloths, and seemed to completely change the subject, “I’m really new here. I just got to London yesterday.” John noticed that her blush wasn’t fading. If anything it was slowly increasing, as was her breathing and the rate at which she was speaking, “I’m visiting my sister, Zebina, although she normally goes by Nina. She’s on study abroad at UCL.” He also noticed that she wouldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, but kept glancing down and away every time she caught them when she peeked up to catch a glance at his reaction, “I don’t know anyone in the city.” Ari made a face, “Except Nina’s boyfriend, Bryan or Ryan, something.” John could tell by her reaction that she didn’t exactly care for the young man, “He’s going to King’s College Dental Institute.” Ari’s face seemed to pink noticeably almost instantly and John smiled, wondering what she was thinking and not for the first time wishing he could read people the way Sherlock could. John didn’t have to wait long before his thoughts were answered, “I know this is a bit forward, but since I don’t know if I’ll have the fortune to meet anyone else as . . .” Her eyes were cast down in embarrassment, hesitation filling her voice, as if she was sure she would be politely rejected, “unique as you,” Ari rushed the last few words making John smile even wider at her shyness, “Would you like to possibly have dinner with me?”
John couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop himself from liking Arianna, Ari. The young girl reminded him of Sherlock so much, he knew they’d either get on famously, or instantly hate each other. He was only slightly shocked to hear himself say, “Maybe tonight?” It had been quite a while since a pretty woman had asked him out instead of assuming he was gay because he lived with Sherlock, even though he dated women on a regular basis. “You could come to my flat and meet my flat mate, if he’s not out working a case.”
Ari’s head shot up in both shock and surprise. Her brain caught on the phrasing of his words and wondered if his flat mate worked for the Police, government, or law firm. Sounds like he’d work for the police, but from the way John speaks of him, he sounds like he wouldn’t do well under that kind of authority. I wonder. Her brain stalled there, though as his words processed. Did he really just say yes to a date? Seriously? Tonight!? Her mind almost wouldn’t process the information.
John realized that she might feel uncomfortable with the idea of coming over to his flat. A woman, alone in a strange city, with two strange men in their flat? Not good! Without really thinking he added hastily, “Why don’t you bring your sister and her boyfriend? That way, she won’t think I’m some insane person who’s going to lure you to their home to kill you,” John laughing at the idea, “Or something as farfetched and ludicrous as that.” John mentally slapped himself, knowing that things such as that did actually happen; he’d seen the results firsthand, but went on as if he hadn’t just said the most awkward thing of the conversation so far. Yeah, not very reassuring, idiot, he berated himself mentally. “I could cook you dinner.”
Her awe was palpable and it made him wonder how often she did get rejected, “Really?” She blinked, leaning closer in her need to know, “You’re serious?”
John chortled shortly, “Yes, I am.” He tilted his head slightly in an unspoken question, “You seem surprised.”
Ari blinked rapidly and nodded, “I am, actually.” With one eyebrow raised, she went on, “A bit.” She shrugged and waved a hand in front of herself, indicating her physical appearance, “I’m not a size zero like most men want.” The matter-of-factness in her voice made John wonder what people had said to her to make her so jaded. “I eat real food.” He knew that people who were overweight, which Ari certainly was, were often teased and made fun of, but he’d never been someone to judge by appearances. Frankly, the more someone told him to keep away from something or someone the more likely he was to go around it or them. Ari’s eyes had become dark wells of a painful knowledge that only came with experiencing the less than friendly side of humanity. She was looking into his eyes again, “I mean, I take care of my appearance, because I think it’s important to at least try to look nice.” The depth John saw and heard within her words and eyes made him yearn to heal what he knew could only be damage from some form of abuse. “Even when most guys take one look and run the other direction.” John vaguely wondered from which part of her life the trauma came as she said, as if in apology, “I don’t exactly have a lot of suitors.”
John couldn’t help but laugh at the old fashioned word, “Suitors?”
She blushed self-consciously and did what seemed to be an unconscious gesture, put a long strand of her hair behind her right ear. She looked up, sheepishly, as she said, “Sorry, I have an eclectic vocabulary.”
John smiled, “That will come in handy when you meet Sherlock.”
John didn’t even notice his choice of words, but Ari made a mental note that he’d said, ‘when,’ not ‘if.’ She frowned, putting a name to his flat mate, finally, but she wouldn’t be distracted from her main train of thought, “You’re really not put off by my size?”
John shrugged, mentally calculating her weight from height and body type, “Why would your weight bother me?” It was very much over the normal healthy limit by his estimation, but she appeared to be healthy, “Are you healthy?”
Ari nodded somewhat reluctantly, “Yes, although I guess I could be healthier. Exercise more and the like.”
John laughed, smiling, “We all could.” John’s mind wandered to the frequent chases that Sherlock and he engaged in.
Ari laughed as well, seeing that he really did mean what he said, “That’s true.”
He went on, “Do you have any major health issues?”
She shrugged, “Some allergies, asthma, and a slight thyroid disorder, but I was a preemie, so my lungs have always been sensitive. I control the thyroid disorder and asthma with medication. Plus, I carry an epipen and Benadryl, in case I accidentally get cross contamination when I’m out to eat at restaurants I don’t know.”
John looked slightly surprised, “Than your weight is because of the thyroid condition.”
Ari frowned, nodding, “Yes, but most people don’t understand that.”
John nodded sadly, “Yes, most people see someone who’s overweight and automatically assume it’s because of eating habits.” John said simply, “I don’t know your eating habits, so I can’t judge.”
Ari chanced a comment, hoping he wouldn’t find it too insightful, “You wouldn’t judge me even if you did know my eating habits, would you?”
John smiled and looked at her, knowing it wasn’t so much a question as a request for a confirmation of a deduction. Avoiding the answer, he said, “I really think you’d like my flat mate.”
Ari laughed, having understood his comment for the confirmation it was. “If you’re flat mate sees things the way I do, than we probably would get along.”
John hesitated, “He is more analytical than you seem to be.”
Ari laughed, “A scientist, huh?”
John hedged, “Not exactly.”
Ari nodded, understanding the hedge for what it was, “I’m more of an artist . . . at least that’s what my family claims. They say I have an artists’ spirit and I should never go into a ‘hard’ science.” John smiled at her words, receiving Ari’s smile in return, “But then again, most scientists don’t consider Anthropology to ~be~ a hard science. There’s too much psychology and sociology mixed in with storytelling and what a lot of scientists would call guess work.” John didn’t know what Sherlock felt about Anthropology, but he was pretty sure he agreed with the scientists that Ari was talking about, “My sister, Nina, though.” John could hear the reverence, annoyance, and resignation in Ari’s voice, “~She~ is the scientist. She can see right through people and know exactly what they’re thinking.” She smiled, “Usually before they even realize what they’re thinking.”
John laughed, “Then you should definitely bring her over.” John smiled ruefully, “I would love to see Sherlock meet his match. Or have him at least meet someone else who is as special as he is and isn’t a serial killer or madman.”
Ah, so he does work with the police if he’s going up against madmen and killers . . . maybe even MI6 or for the government. Glad he goes against the bad guys! John seemed to realize that he may have insulted Ari and looked up to see her smiling, “No, you didn’t insult me.” He blinked, not being used to anyone but Sherlock read his thoughts like that, “It was all over your face, sorry.”
John laughed, “I guess I am more readable than I thought.”
Ari shook her head, “No, actually you’re not easy to read. I’m just so sensitive to people’s moods,” she looked away and added, as if to herself, “I kind of have to be,” she sighed and went on, “That I could tell that particular look.” She smiled one-sidedly, “I have a habit of wearing that particular expression, especially when I’ve said something that someone probably didn’t want to know that I figured out about them. People don’t actually want to know things about themselves. Nor do they want to be made aware that others can tell things about them, just by looking, seeing, observing, and truly understanding what is being taken in.”
John found himself nodding in thought at her words, they’re similar enough to what Sherlock’s said before, just more . . . in-depth.
Ari noticed he hadn’t checked his cell for most of the time they’d been talking and smiled, but realized that they had been talking for a bit, “When is your break over?”
John blinked and looked at his watch, eye widening as he realized the time, “In about five minutes.” He’d barely eaten half his lunch, but he smiled at her anyway, “I guess I lost track of time.”
Ari smiled in return and pulled out a small sketch book out of her bag. She pulled out a pen from a pocket of the small bag, opened the book to a clean page and offered them to John, “Here, give me your address and I’ll look up the directions when I get back to my sister’s flat.”
John took them and jotted down the address, as well as simple directions from the clinic. He was about to explain them when his cell went off. He checked it and smiled fondly down at the message as he read the text from Sherlock, “We’re out of milk. – SH” John laughed, “Looks like I’ll have to stop by the store before I go home.” He looked up to see Ari biting her lip, trying not to laugh, “You get these too?”
Ari laughed, “Reminders to pick things up?” She nodded, “All the time.”
John’s smile widened, “Speaking of texts, what’s your number?”
Ari looked shocked, “Oh! I’d completely forgotten!” She shook herself, “That would’ve been bad! What if I’d gotten lost!” John just laughed, he was sincerely enjoying the time he spent with this young woman, “My number is, 704-555-9676.”
John frowned, slightly confused, “Is that your number in the states?”
Ari stopped, frowned and then clapped her hand to her forehead, “Where is my mind today? Sorry!” She fished in her purse and pulled out a small box. John noticed that it had a small handwritten note in very neat script, but he didn’t get a chance to make out what it said. Ari opened the box to reveal a new looking cell, “My sister gave this to me this morning. I hadn’t even turned it on, but she programmed in a bunch of numbers already.” She smiled one-sidedly, “She worries about me . . . a lot.”
He marveled at her words and her candor. She’s so open. John smiled, glad that she at least had a good relationship with her sister. I wish I had such a good relationship with Harry. John nodded, knowing how much he worried about Harry, “Older siblings do that even if it doesn’t always seem like a good thing.”
Ari smiled fully, missing the slightly wistful expression on John’s face, as the cell turned on with a button push, “I don’t actually know the number yet, but you’ll be my first real contact.”
John smiled at that, feeling somehow special. John got a glimpse of the background wallpaper of Ari and another smiling, dark haired, plus size, young woman who could definitely be her sister.
Ari saw John look at the background and tilted it for him to fully see it, “That’s Zebina,” she said with a small smile. John nodded, glad he’d guessed correctly, as she tilted the phone back to figure out how to add a contact. After several seconds, she said, “Give me your number and I’ll call you. That way you’ll have my number and can program it into your phone.”
John laughed and gave her his cell number about the time his cell went off again. John looked at it and said, sadly, “I have to go. My break’s over.” Rising, he gathered up his food to take it with him. He could probably manage to finish it between patients if he was lucky. Ari rose as well and pressed buttons on her phone. John’s cell rang and a number he didn’t know appeared.
Smiling, she said, “That’s my number,” and spelled out her name for him as he added her number to his contact list. Ari didn’t know how to part from his company, but figured she’d been bold enough to ask him out, she might as well be bold enough to give him a hug. John smiled down at her from a few inches in height, but was a bit surprised when she took a tentative step closer, with her arms opened. He didn’t stop her as she hugged him around the waist. To his surprise, he even hugged her back. “Thank you,” she said into his chest.
John took a deep breath to reply and the faint scents of vanilla, lavender, and chai, mixed with something soft and comforting almost made his next words a sigh, “You’re welcome.” Her soft curves molded against his body and he suddenly wanted to kiss the top of her head. Feeling her muscles tense as she was about to release him and step back, John reluctantly let his arms fall away from her. He suppressed the desire to linger and talk to Ari more. He settled with saying, “I’ll see you tonight?”
Ari smiled so warmly that John felt his cheeks heat. She nodded, “Yes, definitely. Is seven or seven thirty a good time? Zebina doesn’t get out of class until after six and she’ll want to get ready before we come over.”
John nodded, “That’ll be great. If anything comes up for me, I’ll call you.” John paused, “Or would texting be better?”
Ari blinked, “Oh, either is fine.” She paused momentarily, “Although, now that I think about it, texting might be the better option. Ryan was griping that Nina and I were talking too much this morning and he needed to study.” She shrugged, “I don’t care.” She looked up into his eyes, “Whichever you prefer.”
John nodded, “Than it’ll probably be text. It tends to go over better at my flat.”
Ari grinned, “I can actually understand that. I’ve had roommates. Sometimes it’s just plain awkward to talk to people when they’re around.”
John nodded, “Precisely.” John realized Ari seemed just as reluctant to leave as he did, but he had to return to work, “Until tonight.”
She nodded, waving as they parted ways, “Tonight!”
John walked back to the clinic with a decided spring in his step. He wasn’t looking forward to Sherlock’s reaction to him inviting three strangers over for dinner, but with as many things as Sherlock had put him through, he wasn’t sure he cared if Sherlock approved. A voice in the back of his head, whispered that he did care; in fact he cared very much how Sherlock would react, but he also very much wanted Sherlock to meet Ari and her sister. John had been fascinated by Ari and he wanted to get to know her more. For the first time, he actually wanted Sherlock’s opinion on a woman. He didn’t know whether he should be worried for her or for what Sherlock would see that he hadn’t seen. John wondered what Ari would see in his friend. John smirked, wondering how much more intuitive Ari’s sister, Zebina was and what she would make of Sherlock, let alone himself. It was almost as if John was challenging Sherlock and himself by bringing these new chess pieces onto the board that was their lives. How will things change? John wondered, smiling and nodding to the receptionist as he entered the clinic and clocked back in. He felt that meeting Ari had been no accident, but Sherlock always says that there are no such things as coincidences, so maybe it was fate? John certainly hoped it was fate and not the beginnings of one of some psycho’s plan. He shook that thought from his head as an image of Ari’s blushing, smiling face crossed his mind. No, I don’t think so, but you never can be too careful. John shrugged, putting on his lab coat to disguise the motion, and picked up a file from the nurse at the front station. He smiled and read over the notes she’d made as she talked. When she was done and he’d gleaned all the information from her he could, he walked down the hallway to the room the patient was in. His last thought before he went back to work with full focus was, I’ll make one of his favorite meals. That way, he won’t be so grumpy. John smiled and entered the room in a complete professional mindset, ready to work.