Chapter Text
Doctor Sarah Sawyer was of middle age, but she was still fresh faced and pretty. Her eyes were a fetching shade of blue, complimented by the blue sweater that she was wearing, and she had a lovely smile, but all of that did little to mask her serious expression. She had her hands folded on the desk as she said, "I know that you're an omega, John, but what I'm asking you is what you think you can offer my surgery. I've never had a werewolf working here before, and - as much as it pains me to say - I have to make sure that hiring you isn't going to be a safety issue when it comes to our patients. Up until now this has been one of the few human locums, and they come first you know."
"I'm not dangerous, Sarah, I swear," John said quietly. He knew why she was asking; what had happened at the hospital lingered between the both of them. Tension had been high when John first entered the office, and he couldn't help noticing the spike in tension when it come to Sarah's scent. He was pretty sure that if Sherlock had been the one to come in, Sarah probably would have already jumped out the window.
"Maybe you aren't, but your mate..." Sarah trailed off and gave her head a little shake as she spread her hand out over his CV. "I'm concerned about what might happen if you came into contact with another alpha. For the most part, the only people we see are humans. But occasionally a werewolf does find his or her way in, and sometimes it is an alpha. That might become a more common occurrence as word spreads that we have a werewolf doctor on staff. I can't have Sherlock bursting in here, furious because he sees his property being threatened."
John tried not to bristle at the implication that he was Sherlock's property, if only because he understood that some alpha-omega relationships did work that way. He and Sherlock, however, had a very equal partnership. "That was... there were extenuating circumstances, Sarah. I know that might sound like an excuse, but it's really not. I was going into heat and Sherlock and I had just come through a fairly serious fight where both of us nearly died." He watched her carefully, knowing that, like most of the doctors who had treated them, she had only been given a vague explanation of what had gone on with Moriarty. "I've been tracking my heats a lot more carefully. If I know it's coming, I won't come into work. Simple as that."
Sarah let out a slow sigh. "Well, to tell the truth I do need someone," she admitted, giving him a small smile. "And you do seem to be a very qualified doctor... maybe too qualified, I think for the most part you'll probably end up being bored. But I'm willing to give you a shot. Why don't you come in tomorrow morning and we'll see how the day goes?"
"That would be great," John said, trying not to sound too excited. "I swear, the fact that I'm a werewolf and mated won't be an issue."
"I hope so," Sarah said, not looking at all sure about her decision. "It remains to be seen whether or not this vacation of yours will be have to be permanent." She stood up and shook his hand before she saw him to the door. John faltered when he saw Sherlock standing right outside, and Sarah noticeably stiffened.
He had to ask. "Am I fired?"
To her credit, Sarah forced another smile. "No," she said, the implied 'not yet' hanging in the air. "Hello, Mr Holmes."
Sherlock gave the sort of distracted nod that meant he had no idea who she was, which wasn't really all that surprising. John still didn't remember a lot about those few days of blinding heat, and Sherlock wasn't inclined to remember anyone that he didn't consider to be important on a good day. The doctor who had tried to keep him and John separated was probably deleted the second she left the room. He said, "John, come on. I've just got a text from Lestrade. He's waiting for us at a new crime scene."
"Alright," said John. "Thanks again, Sarah. I look forward to starting tomorrow, really."
"It'll be an experience," Sarah said wryly, and then she retreated into her office and closed the door with as much dignity as she could. John was pretty sure he heard the door lock.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hear so long as he kept his voice pitched low enough to be inaudible to human ears. Times like this, he felt he was finally beginning to get the hang of this whole werewolf thing. Sometimes it was actually blessing, which was sort of nice considering how often it was more of a curse.
"I told you, there's a new case. I couldn't go without my assistant."
"You almost cost me my job!"
The only response to that was a distinctly unimpressed look from under lowered eyelashes. Sherlock had made no effort to hide how pointless he thought it was that John was trying to procure a job of his own. He'd pointed out that he had more than enough funds, thanks to a healthy trust account he'd got full access to after he stopped with the drugs, to keep all of the bills paid even if he and John never chose to work again. He couldn't seem to understand that John didn't want to depend on him. He wanted to work, even if it was just two or three days a week at a human surgery. It was the sort of work most werewolves would never lower themselves to - or be allowed to do, considering that few humans would give them the opportunity. He still couldn't believe that Sarah had said yes.
He sighed and rubbed the bridge of nose with his index finger and thumb. If he was waiting for some sort of apology, he knew that he was going to have a spectacularly long wait. Like a little child, Sherlock had just about thrown a tantrum at the idea that John wouldn't be available to him at all times. No matter how many times John explained that he wanted to have a life outside of Sherlock, if only so that he wasn't driven to the point of wanting to kill the idiot in his sleep, Sherlock didn't get it. Mostly because he just didn't want to, like if he protested often enough John would eventually come to see the light and give up on the idea of trying to work.
That was not going to happen. John Watson was nothing if not stubborn, and he was determined to at least make an attempt at this. He reached out and took Sherlock's arm, none too gently towing him along. As they stepped out into the cool air, he said quietly, "I know you don't like this, but it will make me happy. I'll still be able to go on cases with you, I still want to be your mate, and I've even agreed to go meet your parents next week. So I expect you to at least stop trying to sabotage my efforts to get a job - and no matter what you say, Sherlock Holmes, I know that's why you were here."
Sherlock just sniffed, but the light pink flush that spread into his cheeks told John that he had stumbled across the truth. A little less firmly, he added, "I already explained to Sarah that I won't be around next week and she's okay with that."
"So the one thing that your job could have actually served for is now useless," Sherlock muttered.
John laughed. "Oh, come on. It won't be that bad," he said in spite of his own growing doubts. Mycroft had been the one to insist that he and Sherlock needed to go home for a visit, and that it would only be right to bring their mates along. Greg had not looked too thrilled at the suggestion either, but like John he couldn't seem to find a way to say no that wouldn't be insulting to the Holmes family. So even though Sherlock was the most vocally opposed to the whole idea, John had said yes.
Now, as the date for their departure loomed closer, he was beginning to wish he'd chosen to be insulting. He was pretty sure this was just a thinly veiled cover for them to be pressured about the bonding ceremony. He hadn't said yes yet to Sherlock's awkwardly phrased proposal - if it could even be called that - mostly because he wasn't sure this was actually what Sherlock wanted, or if it was just what Mycroft thought that they should want. It was surprisingly easy to get Sherlock to agree to do something if you appealed to his possessive alpha instincts, and John had been around them both long enough to know that Mycroft wasn't above doing just that.
"You don't know my family," Sherlock said, drawing John's attention away from his worrying thoughts.
"I know you," John pointed out, lacing their fingers together. "I love you. Nothing could ever change that, not even the worst family on the face of the planet." He smiled a little, knowing that went both ways, crossing his fingers that it would stay that way when Sherlock met Harry for the first time.
Sherlock studied his face for a moment before he sighed. "Any chance I could persuade you to accept a case in Northern France?"
"You were offered a case in France?"
"I could be."
It was a tempting offer, he had to admit, but... "No, I'm pretty sure if we bowed out at the last minute Greg would actually kill me. And then he would refuse to ever involve you in a case again, which means he'd effectively kill you too."
"He wouldn't be able to hold out for longer than a month," Sherlock said confidently as he raised a hand to flag down a cab.
"We're going," John said firmly, ignoring his mate's pout, and hoped that this wouldn't turn out to be a mistake.