Authors note: Hello, this is a story that is the sequel to my first story First meetings ( I highly recommend reading that story first); the chapters will be sporadic in length as I will be attempting to delve into the thoughts and reactions of the other characters. The segments might flow into each other or jump around, because I am taking my cues from the first episode A Study in Pink as well as trying to tie it into my other story. Hopefully in the end it will make sense. and as always I will be editing my stories as I find errors, as I seem incapable of catching them all the first time round.

Chapter 1:

As spring slowly turned into summer and John was still attending his disastrous therapy sessions with a person that diagnosed him the second he walked in with a cane. During today's session John once again refused to say a word, but Watson stubbornness made him attend the appointments, leaving him to stew in silence for an hour every week. In the end today he got another mark in his file saying Trust Issues but that was not right. John trusted his men he led, he trusted his superiors in the army, he trusted his sister to drink, and he trusted his parents to continue to ignore him as they have done since he left at the age of sixteen; John just didn't trust the person who judged and diagnosed him before he even sat down the very first time they met. After today's session John felt nostalgic and decided to go to the Market visitor car park, while walking through he heard his name being called.

"John, John Watson" John turned around to look at a round faced man pointing to himself "Stamford, Mike Stamford. We were at Barts together." A younger, more Muscular version of the man before him with a slight obsession of James bond flashed in Johns mind, though where the muscle left the Bond apparently did not.

"Yes, sorry yes, Mike hello." John offered his hand.

"Yeah I know I got fat" John automatically said no but was ignored "I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at, what happened?"

John frowned before gesturing to himself "I got shot." That simple statement created a deafening silence full of awkwardness and Confusion on Mike's part it seemed he couldn't believe that John was still alive. John felt guilty for the silence and saw the café he used to go to as a student of Barts. "Sorry" John didn't know what he was apologizing for but it seemed right. "Did you want to get a Coffee?"

"Sure" Mike seemed happier but growing tenser with not knowing what to do. So John and Mike got their beverages in silence and walked back towards the park to claim an unused bench. John automatically surveyed the grounds and pieced together that Mike, being near Barts, gave him another opportunity to, maybe, end the nervousness caused by Johns in ability to control his feelings.

"So you still at Barts then?"

"Teaching now," John nodded. "Bright young things like we used to be, God I hate them. What about you then, just staying in town until you get yourself sorted?"

"I can't afford London on an Army Pension"

"Ahhhnd you couldn't bear to be anywhere else, that's not the John Watson I know."

"Yeah well I'm not the John Watson you know" Anger surged through John reminding him that the John Watson people knew wasn't an invalid and to bring that thought home his left hand started to tremble.

"Couldn't Harry help?" John laughed at this, Mike met Harry twice. The first time was one terrible reading week when Harry was dumped by her high school girlfriend; the second was at Graduation where Mike and Harry got too drunk forcing John to take care of them.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen." Mike felt a sudden sense of duty to find a solution for his old friend.

"You can find a flat share or something?" Mike said while thinking of Sherlock, who had run of Barts due to his family's contributions to the Chemistry programme, the school going so far as to name the Chemistry wing after the Holmes family and giving Sherlock his honorary Degree after he Dropped out of his own Ivy League University.

"Come on, who would want me for a flatmate." Mike laughed at the odd sensation of déjà vu. "What?"

"You're the second person to say that to me today" Mike explained to his explosive friend.

John's interest was piqued. "Who was the first?"

Mike grinned like the cat that caught the canary "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, I'll introduce you now he should be in the chem labs now." Mike was up and on his way to St. Barts leaving John to follow him. John was in Awe of the changes made to the facility making him almost walk into Mike when he stopped in front of a door. Mike quickly knocked and let himself in, holding the door open for John he kept glancing at the man standing over a lab light. John took a cursory glance of the room and ignored the man at the lab table in favour of remembering what the room used to look like.

"It's a bit different from my day"

"You have no idea" Mike responded still far too intent on the other man in the room he seemed almost star struck by him in John's opinion.

"Mike can I borrow your phone, there's no signal on mine." The man sounded bored with words and John finally gave him his full attention.

"And what's wrong with the land line" Mike hoped it wasn't' down their I.T. guy had died that week and a replacement hadn't been found yet. Mike was pretty sure that Sherlock was experimenting on the man's body as well.

"Mmmno I prefer to text." John frowned his mind was frantically working out why this man was so familiar.

"Sorry it's in my coat" Mike mumbled after patting down his pockets. Recognition Struck John like lightning. "Here, you can use mine." John's phone was out before he finished talking.

"Oh, Thank-you" Sherlock looked to mike knowingly. John stood stunned and stared at the healthier version the man who considered him an angel. John often thought of his last night in London remembering the supposed good luck kiss and John did feel lucky after completing his first two tours of duty without injury.

"That's an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike introduced waving in the general direction of John. As John handed his phone over and not finding any recognition on the Sherlock's face, John smirked realizing he had a slight upper hand in this meeting. Though if Sherlock had figured out his life story while high he wondered what the man could do clean and sober.

"Afghanistan or Iraq." Sherlock demanded interrupting John's thoughts.

"Sorry?"

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" John noticed the difference in the man immediately this Sherlock was quicker and needed a less hands on examination, maybe John and Sherlock were on even ground in this meeting.

"Afghanistan how did you…?" John was interested in the thought process he had heard it once before but John thought he would never tire of listening to the quick logic involved in the unique process, but Johns question was cut off by Sherlock.

"Ah, Molly, Coffee thank-you." John glanced at the person named molly who seemed to hover beside John. "What happened to the lipstick?" After this question John remembered why he was called an angel that night all those years ago. Maybe Sherlock really did want to find a flat mate and, John agreed, that listing of someone's life story was a sure fire way to scare off most people. Sherlock interrupted John's thoughts once again. "How do you feel about the violin?"

"Sorry?" John looked around, finding that Molly had left without him noticing.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking sometimes I don't talk days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other."

"Who said anything about flat mates?" John asked trying to get the man to say aloud his thought process.

"I did, I told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flat mate for, and now here he is just after lunch with an old friend clearly home from military service in Afghanistan, wasn't that difficult a leap."

John was encouraged with that response and decided to ask once again about Sherlock's previous conclusion of his past "How did you know about Afghanistan?" Sherlock ignored the question once again and reaffirmed John's suspicions about how Sherlock's reasoning was treated.

"I've got my eye on a nice little place in central London together we ought to be able to afford it, well meet there tomorrow evening seven O'clock. Sorry got to dash forgot my riding crop in the mortuary."

John was stunned at how idiotic the man still was it seemed the more brilliant he got that slight idiocy was fighting to keep him within reach of the rest of the human race, so John prompted the man. "Is that it?"

"Is that what?" Sherlock seemed to be going over the conversation while staring intently at John, almost asking for an explanation.

"I don't know where we are meeting in central London" John said, making Sherlock frown.

"Oh, right of course" Sherlock was still frowning and examining John like he was another species. Sherlock was expecting a more volatile response after ignoring John's inquiries. "The address is two-two-one B Baker Street." Sherlock relayed the address and was out the door before John could utter another word.

"You handled that better than most" Mike looked pleased with himself.

"Well I am not like most now am I? I will see you around Mike; I better let you get back to work." Mikes reaction to being reminded of work was immediate apparently he forgotten about his class and was fifteen minutes late; and John was left to show himself out of St. Bartholomew's Hospital.