#and while he never had 'bumbling idiot' energy in canon...

[adrianastrix]

Re-reblogging this because Sherlock canon spans multiple decades. When they first meet, Watson is young (if I remember correctly without having to walk three steps to check, he gets drafted to the Afghan War straight out of residency) and spry, except for a debilitating gunshot wound.

Then, some years later (I would eyeball it as 10-to-15 years; again, too lazy to get up and check), Watson meets an old friend and reveals that they were both rugby athletes in top physical condition in university days (so yeah, jock Watson confirmed), but now both have been couch potatoing for long enough to be at least pudgy.

This means that Watson can be sexy like Jude Law and sexy like a hamster in canon. Any Watson bod can be canon, depending on when the story happen. AND if you want Watson to be heavily built since his young days, it's fine too, because rugby is one of those sports that benefit from "meat wall" kinda athletes.

The only thing that it's hard to muddle is their age. They are supposed to be more or less the same age when they meet, but Sherlock might be sliiiightly younger. If you want to, you can stretch their age gap a little without breaking believability until they are a good ten years apart:

I get the feeling that Sherlock never truly graduated university, but he did attend to it to get some training he needed for his detective job. Depending on how much he wanted to study before dropping off, he could've attended just a couple of semesters and be as young as 18-19 when meeting Watson (but I would argue that he is more likely 22-ish in the first book).

On the other hand, we know that Watson is young when meeting Sherlock, he says as much. But there's nothing saying he entered uni as a 17-18yo. He could've done a 'grand tour' right out of high school (a sort of gap year that young men would use to travel Europe and maybe beyond), entering uni at 19-20. Add on top of it 5-7 years of uni and residency (at best, assuming he didn't fail anything important), plus around six months of war, and it's not too farfetched for Watson to be as old as 28 when meeting Holmes (with 23 as the lowest possible age for him, without him being a teen prodigy or something, but I personally feel 25yo energy in first book!Watson).

A 10 years gap isn't "young Holmes, elderly Watson" but depending on how each of them age and style themselves (bushy beards and premature grey hairs make you look a lot older; being beardless, thin and not wrinkling much makes you look deceptively young), they could visually become this in 20 or so years after their meeting, to Watson endless annoyance.

Doyle Canon: This is Dr. John Watson. He has managed to have multiple love affairs on three different continents. He is a love machine. A sex god, if you will. Able to woo multiple Victorian ladies.

80% of Sherlock Holmes Adaptations: This is Dr. John Watson. He looks like a hamster.

[winterscribe]

Chapter 1 Scene 1

I decided I’d start sharing parts of my fic The Wise do Dare to Dream on Tumblr to keep me interested in writing it. I’m not planning on posting it to Ao3 until the whole thing is finished which may not be for awhile (I’m a horribly slow writer) Feel free to give constructive feedback- this is technically just the rough draft, I’m going to go back and do the second draft when the whole fic is done so I can fix anything that contradicts and flesh out stuff.

Warning for Canon typical child abuse.

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September 27th 1985

Mrs. Petunia Dursley of Number 4 Privet Drive was perfectly normal, thank you very much- and proud of it. There may have been a time in her life when she had been jealous of her freak sister, but she’d long ago abandoned such childish nonsense. Besides, where had Lily’s magic gotten her? Dead at twenty-one, leaving behind a daughter that inherited all her freakishness. Clearly magic meant little enough, especially as it seems Little-Miss-Perfect hadn’t even had friends willing to take in her little beast. No, instead Petunia had to raise the nasty brat, exposing Dudley to such unnatural freakishness. She’d be damned if poor Dudders suffered the same bitter disappointment she once had. He’d grow up knowing there was nothing special about Heather Jane Potter, and any abnormalities she displayed were just that- abnormal, awful, and certainly nothing to envy.

Petunia finished her tea and shook off her thoughts. Bad enough she had to live with the child, she hardly needed to think about her while the freak was at school. Glancing at the clock, Petunia smiled. She had just enough time to prep the roast for dinner before she headed out to weed the garden. Amanda, the next door neighbor, was having a garden party- likely the last before the weather made such things impossible. Ordinarily Petunia would be a quest herself, but she’d had some shopping to do in town and hadn’t anticipated being back in time. When she realized she’d finished up early enough she’d briefly considered attending, but it occurred to her she was in a prime position to overhear any juicy gossip that might have been withheld otherwise. Few things brough Petunia as much satisfaction as knowing a prime bit of gossip no one knew she had.

Watching though the kitchen window as the smartly dressed ladies made their way through Amanda’s yard to her enclosed gazebo, Petunia gave herself a mental pat on the back for her timing. If she’d gone out before, the ladies would have seen her working. Now they’d be tucked away out of sight, unaware when she joined them. Even better they’d likely be finished all the boring pleasantries and be started in on the scintillating conversation that kept them all coming back regularly.

Sure enough, by the time Petunia settled in to ‘get rid of a few weeds before it’s time to make the gravy,’ the ladies were discussing the absence of poor Mrs. Barbara Hansford. Disappointingly no new gossip was added. Mrs. Hansford had missed the past few gatherings allowing ample time to discuss the dramatic details of her divorce. It seems no new intelligence had been gathered by any of the present ladies. Such a pity Mrs. Hansford’s divorce wasn’t proving to be as entertaining as her husband’s illicit affairs. Daniel Hansford was either a bumbling idiot incapable of subterfuge or a cruel husband who didn’t care if news of his many mistresses made it back to his wife. None of the ladies cared which it really was, but it made for a lively and interesting debate. Unfortunately Mr. Hansford was either shaken by his wife confronting him and demanding a divorce or he was behaving so Mrs. Hansford’s lawyers wouldn’t have any more ammo. He hadn’t been seen with a new woman since news of the divorce circulated the neighborhood a month and a half ago, a record breaking length of time for the unrepentant cad. Again, none of the ladies cared, except that it deprived them of a prime source of entertainment, a crime which far eclipsed his dreadful dalliances, (though of course, none of the ladies would ever dream of saying so out loud.)

“Is Petunia not joining us today?”

“No, I’m afraid not, she said she was rather busy today.”

Petunia hardly dared to breathe lest she miss a single word that came next. Juicy gossip about neighbours was one thing, a chance to know (and fix if needed) her reputation was priceless information.

“I wonder what was so important she missed this? It’s not like Petunia Dursley to miss a chance to gossip.”

“She said she had some shopping to do in town.” Strangely the ladies all giggled softly at the statement.

“Shopping in town? Probably doesn’t want to be seen entering the kind of stores she can afford.”

“Oh, Maria, hush! That’s an awful thing to say!”

“Come on Janice, it’s just the truth. I can’t say I blame her, it must be so embarrassing to be so poor you have to dress a little girl in her male cousin’s hand-me-downs. I’ve never seen little Heather in a stitch of proper clothing, not even when she started school. What little girl isn’t dressed in a skirt for their first day at least? Hmm?

“Petunia says she’s a wild hellion of a girl, just awful. If they’re that tight on funds it makes sense not to waste money on clothes the girl will just ruin.”

Natalie Ethsman gave a judgemental sniff. “Honestly who’s fault is it if Heather is a miserable little beast? It’s all well and good for Petunia to let Dudley run amok- he’s a healthy boy with energy to burn. But girls need to be taught their place and it really says something about Petunia that she can’t seem to get Heather under control.”

“I agree completely. It’s one thing to be a bit - tight in the belt- shall we say? It's another thing entirely to lack basic manners. It’s dreadful to think what’ll become of Heather if Petunia doesn’t take her in hand. She’ll become a tramp like her mother was. You’d think Petunia would do everything she could to prevent that.

“Exactly. It’s not much of a problem now, and it’s still early enough to turn around, but in a few years? If Petunia doesn’t do something to make Heather a proper lady the girl will get herself in “trouble” and there’s a risk it’ll be one of our boys in it with her.”

After a few mutterings of agreement the ladies changed topic, complaining about the disgraceful rise in teenage pregnancy. Relieved, Petunia quickly gathered her tools and headed inside to regain her composure, horrified at what she’d overheard. They thought the Dursleys were poor? God anything but that! It would have been better if they’d caught Vernon having an affair! That was normal, expected almost, and it would have made Petunia a sympathetic figure at least. But this? Poor? Because they refused to waste more money than they needed to on the little freak they’d been saddled with? Worse still, they judged Petunia based on Heather’s lack of manners? Something must be done, immediately. Vernon would agree of course. While neither of them wanted to spend Vernon’s hard earned money on the ungrateful brat, they couldn’t have the neighbors thinking they were poor. They couldn’t let the little freak rob them of their reputation.

Changing Heather’s behavior would be more difficult than changing her wardrobe. She was a mouthy stubborn little girl who enjoyed running rampant through the neighborhood getting as filthy as any boy and leaving her hair a tangled rats nest. Bringing her to heel would be a challenge, but Vernon would have plenty of ideas for “incentives” to convince her. If nothing else withholding food would be effective, but they tried to use that sparingly- their reputation would never recover if they were investigated for child abuse.

The only real problem was Petunia would have to keep her in the house, meaning she’d actually have to deal with her. At least she’d have a break from the beast during school hours, but it was still an unpleasant thought. Oh well, sometimes sacrifices had to be made to maintain the perfect reputation. She’d just have to come up with something to keep the brat out of her hair as much as possible.

Absentmindedly pulling the roast out of the oven Petunia continued pondering the problem. They would need a way to show that they had succeeded in correcting Heather’s behavior. Glimpses of Heather on her way on and off the bus wouldn’t be enough, and confining her to the house would only show that they were trying something new but wouldn’t show their success. There had to be a way…

Slowly an idea began to take form. When they’d first moved here, Petunia had held regularly dinner parties, using the guise of wanting to get to know the neighbors without imposing on them. It had made her quite popular and cemented her position as one of the more prominent ladies in their suburb. She’d only surrendered the coveted position of hostess once she’d gotten pregnant with Dudley, as expected. After all, pulling together an event worthy of their influential neighbors required a great deal of effort; meticulous cleaning, elaborate meals, and hours spent shopping for the perfect outfit. A small child, especially one as precocious as her precious Diddums, demanded far too much time and attention to properly plan such an event. Now that Dudley was in school she had the time to devote to pulling everything together, but she couldn’t just have a dinner party. The role of hostess provided the perfect opportunity to show off one's wealth without appearing to be a braggart. As such you had to have either high enough social status to host an event, or an acceptable enough reason to justify the ladies gathering at your house rather than one of the more prominent ladies. Otherwise, you’d find yourself sitting amongst expensive food in an expensive dress with no one for company. Worse you’d likely be snubbed for a time, as punishment for your audacity.

Petunia shuddered to think of what would have happened to their reputation if she’d tried to host an event with their reputation as is. She’d been thinking that her previous popularity as hostess would allow her to return to the top of the ranks in short order as long as she choose a suitable reason. However, with their reputation fallen to such a low point, it would have been disastrous. It was very fortunate she’d overheard what she did and could do some damage control before trying to host a party. They’d even given her the perfect excuse. Once they got Heather whipped into shape as a proper young lady, they could invite the ladies over to demonstrate their success. All they’d need to do is come up with a suitable excuse for Heather’s miraculous breakthrough. If all goes well Petunia might even be able to use it as an excuse to reclaim her role as one of the prefered hostesses. All she’d have to do is give a line like “Oh, we want to give Heather the benefit of observing the behaviour of such distinguished, well mannered ladies and give her plenty of opportunity to learn how to be a proper hostess.” The ladies would eat it up with a spoon.

It would take a bit of time of course- damage control doesn't work overnight-  but with a bit of effort Petunia might be able to make the Dursley’s reputation better than it ever was.