Queer

אז הפאנפיק הזה באנגלית כן מעצבן אני יודעת אבל יש סיבה והיא נקראת העצלנות שלי, זה סיוט לא נורמלי לכתוב את שרלוק בעיברית ואני עצלנית ידועה ולכן הפאנפיק באנגלית.

בנוסף Ze,hir ואולי עוד משהו ששכחתי הם לא טעויות רק צורת התייחסות מקובלת באנגלית לג'נדרקוויר.

אממ ובנוסף אם טעיתי או הבנתי משהו לא נכון על הנושא, אני מאוד מתנצלת. אני לא מכירה את התחושה אישית ולכן יכול להיות שיש לי טעויות בסיסיות ואני מאוד מתנצלת בפני מי שהדבר נוגע לו, לא התכוונתי בשום אופן לפגוע או לזלזל ואני אשמח לתיקונים.

אה כן, אנגלית היא לא שפת האם שלי אז יש שגיאות תחביר, סורי.

The soft clink of china against wood shocked Sherlock out of hir reverie (sorry, out of hir mind palace) and ze blinked open hir colorless sharp eyes. “John,” ze called out, hir voice lace with

impatience which told the good doctor that it is not the first time his mad flat-mate call his name. “Now, would you bring me the pen I asked for? Or continued with this ridiculous behavior which you display in the last couple of hours and ignore my sensible request?”

John hid a smirk behind the rim of his newly-made tea cup and raised an eyebrow “I think I shell continue with my ridiculous behavior,” he answer in an even voice that only lasted for a few moments before his lop-side smirk grow in to a full belly laugh. The look on Sherlock face was so scandalized that John found it impossible not to laugh “you do know that I just came in, right?”

The no was easy to read in the depths of the always-changing eyes but Sherlock did not voice it out loud instead ze sized hir flat-mate with laser-sharp focus fully intending to will him to bring the pen with the power of hir mind. It did not work, the doctor did not move, he just kept sitting quietly on his beloved chair and sipping slowly from his beloved tea. Irritated from hir lack of success in manipulating John the detective stand up with all the drama one can master when one is only wearing a robe and march to hir room, mumbling all the way about unhelpful flat-mate and lazy doctors.

John who stayed in the living room sigh to himself, sometimes Sherlock is just an over-grown child and it was a bit annoying after a full day in the clinic where he had to sit and listen to over protective mams (who really should stop using the web) and wipe the noses of sick infants. But annoying or not Sherlock is his best-friend and he must try smooth things between them, especially now because the detective was acting weird (even considering he is Sherlock Holmes) for the last few days.

The first sign John sew was the long, long showers. Sherlock stay in the bathroom for over an hour, which is not that weird by itself because the detective has a tendency to forget that

there is another human being that may want to shower in hot water, but he leave the bathroom as dry as he came in and that is weird even in an Holmes weirdness scale.

The next sign that something wrong was even stranger, Sherlock had made a grammar mistake and Sherlock never make grammar mistakes he is too aristocratic and posh to do such an uneducated thing (John can easily imagine the lofty smirk which grace Sherlock full lips every time someone make a grammar mistake in his range of hearing). But he made a mistake all the same-he referenced to himself as she without blinking an eye.

Now when he think back over the last weeks John notice hundreds of signs which all pointed to the same conclusion-he must speak to Sherlock. Armed with his new decision and lots of patience and dedication the doctor followed his flat-mate to his room and knocked on the closed door. “Sherlock, open the door. We need to talk.”

“We need no such thing.” The answer was not late to come. No surprise here-the detective never talk about hir feelings voluntarily in all their shared time-and John request was full of all that sentimental nonsense which ze loath.

Smiling slightly the good doctor rest his forehead on the cool wood of the door and continued “yes we do,” his voice commanding and fierce like he is talking with a child and not with a grown-up sensible (if you squeeze) man “you have been acting weird lately and I want to know why.” John stopped for a few seconds and lick his lower lip “I am worried about you,” he whisper in soft almost inaudible tone.

Sherlock hush grumble carry through the close door-ze really do not want to speak “I am fine,” ze insisted in a bored tone, hoping against hope that John will decide to leave hir alone.

Not surprisingly it did not work, and the doctor stubbornly stay by the door. Standing at ease with his hands locked together at the small of his back and his legs slightly bowed, like any other soldier cause he may not be in Afghanistan any longer but he found a new (and just as dangerous) battlefield here in London with his crazy and genius flat-mate.

Funny enough his sheer stubbornness had pay of and after what seem like hours-but in reality was more like twenty minutes-the door opened by a grumpy looking Sherlock who ushered him inside without uttering a word. John came willingly into the room but after he was inside he just stand beside the unused double bed and keep quiet, he was unsure what to do next and Sherlock did not help his nerves with hir unblinking and judging stare.

“If you annoyed me just to stand there and do nothing you are more than welcome to do that somewhere else.” The detective clip and somehow stress voice tossed John out of his untimed shock and he opened his mouth to speak… and close it again.

“arr…” he started in uncertain voice and stopped again, a sharp nod from Sherlock urged him to keep on speaking or save his breath and go (Sherlock of course preferred the later over the former.) “I,” John lick his lip and continue in stronger voice “you had been acting weird, weirder then usual I mean, for couple of weeks and it begin to be quite alarming.” Way to proud of himself John eyed the detective and waited expectantly to Sherlock (most likely crab and annoyed) answer.

He was not mistaken, Sherlock’s answer when it came after a minute of uncomfortable silent were sharp and venomous “I am just fine, do not reflect your own uncertainty on my character.” The deep baritone echoed for a moment filling the space between the detective and hir blogger with unease that did not belong in their relationship.

John cocked his head and took a deep calming breath-sometimes the urge to strangle the impossible (improbable, as the man himself does not believe in the concept of impossibility.) man was hard to resist. “It’s not about me, it’s about you. You and your uncharacteristic grammar mistakes and ridicules long and unwatery showers. And no, I do not care that there is no such word as unwatery.” The doctor harsh breathes winded against Sherlock’s robe clad chest, during his speech he had somehow came to stand nose to nose with the younger wo.man. John gazed up into the unnerving stare, the bright eyes unblinking and penetrating. “Amm… sorry, I will just…yea all right.” He rush through the apology while stepping back and out of Sherlock’s alluring close proximity.

“I do make grammar mistakes, unlike most English speakers,” the figurative eye roll was easily deducted from the distasteful tone “I can manage my language rightful laws.”

John sniggered quietly but did not comment on Sherlock’s cutting remark-one get use to cutting and insulting remarks about one’s intelligent when one live with Sherlock Holmes. “You referenced to yourself as her, I am pretty sure you are a male so yes you had made a grammar mistake.”

The doctor did not knew what he expected Sherlock’s answer to be but he certainly did not expected the easy and almost patronize smile which graced the detective perfect cupid-bow lips. “Good job John, I am pleasantly surprise-You observed and pay attention, of course you arrived to a wrong conclusion but it is a satisfying start.” John was impressed by Sherlock unbeatable way to ruin a compliment, it was as impressing as watching a train wreck.

“If I have been so wrong why would you not correct me? Ho, your great detective.” The sardonic tone was so clear it that any laser man would have cowered away but Sherlock is no ordinary wo.man and ze will not be easily scared.

“It was not a mistake,” ze lightly stated like John is just a child throwing a tantrum and there is no need to delve in the matter at all.

Misfortunately to hir, John Watson was not one to be brush away without a fight and he stubbornly stay exactly where he was “you are male so yes it was a mistake.” He crossed his arms and kept maintaining eye contact, he will not lose in this not quite stare match.

The detective stare was unnerved and clam, lacking hir usual disquiet it did look like ze find the all ordeal amusing “I do not feel the need to chain myself to the limited perspective of gender, it does not mean I am wrong it mean that the society is close minded and have a great need to label everyone.”

“Ahm… What?”

“I am a genderqueer.”

John blinked slowly while trying to progress the weird word the detective just said “a gender-what?”

Sherlock rolled hir eyes “genderqueer. There is no hardship in pronouncing it.”

The doctor shoved down a mounting need to slap the younger man “yes, well what does genderqueer mean?” a disdain smirk was all the answer John got “you do know that I am not an idiot? I did finish med-school.”

A rise brow was all the answer the doctor had been given for his (quite understandable) complain but surprisingly after another sigh to express hir dissatisfaction Sherlock did answered his question “ I do not feel obligation to express myself in a one limited gender.”

“Ho, it is fine, it is all fine.” John nodded his head to himself and then continued “it is not even that unbelievable, now when I think about that, it was somehow expected. I, for example, was always sure you are an alien.”  

A soft almost unrecognizable expression passed on Sherlock angular face, disappearing so fast that the good doctor would have believed he just imagine it if not for the lingering blush that painted the detective other way pale cheeks. “I know it is fine,” ze said sharply but hir eyes have a glint that say ze is grateful for the unexpected acceptant.

“Well, you are an alien and I want tea so maybe it will be good if we go back to the living room?” John said and turn to the door, tea after all is the British way to solve every problem.

“Will you now bring me the pen I have asked for?”