Don't Be...Dead

15- The Waitress

"Table for two?" the blonde waitress asked as we entered the small cafe.

"Err, yes please." She led us to a small table in the corner by the window and I was instantly reminded of the first night with Sherlock at the restaurant.

"What?" Sherlock asked, noticing the smile spreading across my face.

 "Nothing. Just remembering. Sherlock-"

"John, you should know, I haven’t had any real relationships before now. I don’t know how to proceed from here."

"Sher-" I stopped as our waitress returned.

"What can I get you?" I looked at the menu.

"Scrambled eggs."

"Sausage or bacon?"

 "Sausage."

"And to drink?"

"Coffee."

She turned to Sherlock. "And for you?"

"Coffee."

"And to eat?" she asked, noting this on her note pad.

"Just the coffee." She frowned but turned and left. I threw a disapproving look at Sherlock.

"Sherlock, you need to eat."

"Digesting slows me down, you know that. Besides, not hungry."

"Believe it or not, you are human and humans need to eat."

The waitress returned and set down two mugs between us. She turned and looked at Sherlock. "Hey, if you’re not doing anything later..."

"I am." Sherlock replied, placing his hand on top of mine. She looked at our hands, then back and forth between us.

"Oh. Oh! I’m sorry." her cheeks flushed red as she hurried away I looked at Sherlock for a moment, trying to keep a straight face before a chuckle escaped my mouth. Sherlock’s mouth turned up in a rare smile and he started to laugh. We tried to compose ourselves as she returned, hurriedly setting a plate down in front of me before moving away embarrassed. I shoved my plate under Sherlock’s nose.

"Eat."

"Not hungry," he said sliding the plate back over and grabbing the sugar for his coffee.

"You’ve already lost weight while you were gone. I’m sure Molly couldn’t bring you food every night." I folded my arms and stared pointedly at him.