Title: Only Him
Author: Jessie Blackwood
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Fandoms: Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are not my characters, they are public domain. Anything that resembles Sherlock BBC belongs of course to Mr Moffat and Mr Gatiss and is theirs alone. The plot is mine. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is otherwise purely coincidental.
Note: I re-read the scene from Children of Earth and this just popped into my head. A change of characters, and slight change of wording to make it fit but oddly appropriate.
Summary: I did a thing. For reasons. A drabble-length scene in which John is outted by his sister.

***

"Only me." John composed a smile on his face as his sister opened the door.

"Oh, bloody hell. We must be in trouble. Or is it Christmas?" Harry threw the door wide and frowned at her baby brother.

"How are you?" John asked. Following the visit to A&E after Harry had fallen down stairs John felt guilty enough to visit her.

"Yeah, it was a bit of a scare. I'm home, though."

John followed her into the kitchen. " I was thinking. I missed your birthday. I thought I could take you for lunch or something..."

"That would be all of £3.95, you big spender."

"Alright, how about dinner?" John asked, batoning down the irritation that had begun to rise at her barbs.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. I'd like that."

"I thought maybe this afternoon."

"No chance. What about Saturday?"

"I'm kind of busy on Saturday."

"You're a doctor, they don't work weekends. They invented weekends."

"Fine. Just an idea. I won't bother you again..." John got up to go. Their conversation was deteriorating again, like always. There was no common ground any more.

"Oh, that's it, is it? You're just gonna go now? Oh, sit down, you daft sod. I've got some of that spinach dip. And you and me, well..." She cleared her throat. "We've got things to talk about."

John frowned, puzzled. "What things?"

"You've been seen."

John made a face. Who by and when? Doing what? The possibilities where Sherlock was concerned were endless. Where have we been recently? Oh yes, down the docks; that was interesting. In that dosshouse with Wiggins; that would have been embarrassing. There was the Yard, with Lestrade giving Sherlock an earful for walking off with evidence again...

"Susan on the corner was in town and it was her anniversary, so they went to that Italian place in town by the taxi rankl, and there was you."

"So...?" What was so special about that?

"There was you, having dinner with a man."

"So?" Was that all, John thought? On balance it might have been worse.

"Having dinner, with a man, in a restaurant," Harry said pointedly.

"So? You have dinner with Clara."

"Not in town. Susan said he was gorgeous. Like a film star. Like an escort."

"He's my...colleague."

"She said it was intimate. I said "Well, he's had girlfriends," and she said "Well, no girl was getting her feet round that table, no chance." Have you gone bender?"

"Harry!" John protested. He fell silent, wondering what he might say that would put her off.

"You never tell me anything these days," she complained. "Dad died, that was it, you were off. You couldn't wait. Like I did something wrong. I didn't, did I?"

"It's not that. It's my job, it's difficult, it's..." John exhaled and closed eyes. Who am I kidding? He opened his eyes and fixed her with a look. "He is very handsome."

"No!" Her shocked glee was irritating.

"Now stop it," he snapped, pointing a finger at her threateningly.

"You're kidding me! Really, though? Really?" John didn't answer and could not maintain eye contact with his sister. "Christ almighty!" she burst out. Then she went a bit contemplative "He's nice, though? Is he?" John bit his lip and didn't speak. "Is he?" she persisted. When John eventually looked up, Harry's eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. I mean, since when?"

"It's weird," John said thoughtfully. "It's just different. It's not...men. It's... it's just him. It's only him. And I don't even know what it is, really. So... So I'm not broadcasting it."

"Oh, no, honest, I won't say." Harry hastened to reassure him. "If you want it kept quiet, I swear, I won't say a word, I promise."

The door closed quietly behind them and a voice said cheerfully "Aye aye, gay boy, she says you're taking it up the arse." The look on John's face was priceless and his sister wished she'd had her camera to hand. Harry rubbed her nose a bit to hide her grin.

"Thanks," John said in his familiar, quietly sarcastic tone.

"How've you been then, you smart bastard?" Clara asked bluntly. John got up and Clara grabbed him into a bearhug. John tried not to make a noise but an undignified squeak came very close to escaping and that would have been...well, embarrassing. "Welcome to the club, mate," she said, holding him at arms length and gazing on him a little too fondly.

John sighed. Oh, God, no....

***