Beside You- A Johnlock Fanfiction (BBC Sherlock) *UNDER HEAVY EDITING*

Chapter Eight- Strawberries, Darling

There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.

-   F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

A/N- I’ve never actually been to The Ritz before, so I’ll probably get a lot of things wrong. I’m just researching it on the internet and looking at pictures to try and get an idea.

Another two things:

1. I don't know how the hell I came up with this strawberries thing, yes, I know, it's slightly weird but FLUFF. Come on, you know you love the fluff.

2. The Great Gatsby isn't out on DVD yet but this book is currently set at the end of this year, when it will be! It's an amazing film, and the book is incredible too, but SO MANY FEELS. Seriously, give that man an Oscar. WARNING- HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE FILM AT A POINT IN THIS CHAPTER.

Sherlock
I couldn’t help but smile at the amazement on John’s face- he’d clearly never been anywhere like this before. I was obviously going to change that.

“So what kind of room do we have?” John asked.

“Superior Suite.” I replied, and laughed as his eyes widened again. “Christ, Sherlock, how did you get...?”

“John, I’m related to the British government. The name ‘Holmes’ opens a lot of doors, even here.”

“Clearly in Baskerville, too."

“Don’t remind me of Baskerville, John… I was such an idiot there.”

“Just because you got something wrong? Sherlock, you’re human,” He reminded me.

“Yes, I know that,” I replied. “It’s just… my behavior towards you was horrendous while we were there, and you were so mad at me. Ugh.” I shuddered.

I looked down at the carpet as we walked towards the bar. I felt John squeeze my hand. “Sherlock, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly the big friendly giant towards you either… You were afraid. We were all afraid.” 

“That’s okay… I blame myself.”

“Don’t you bloody dare, Sherlock.”

“John…”

“What?"

“The big friendly giant. Really?” I scoffed at him. He narrowed his eyes and then we both laughed.

We got to the Rivoli Bar, and John gawped again. It was quite spectacular, of a glorious art deco style. I led him to some seats underneath a painting and he sat down, and I ordered a bottle of their finest white wine at the bar. I walked back to John and sat down next to him. He was sitting up very straight and properly. I did the same, and placed my hand on his, which rested on his leg.

“Sherlock, this is… Wonderful. Thank you.”

“That’s not a problem- I suppose we should also be thanking Mycroft.”

“That we should. At least let me get the drinks.”

“No."

“Sherlock!”

“Two hundred and twenty pounds, John. You can ‘get’ the napkins.” His jaw dropped again. I chuckled.

“Like I said, only the best for you.” I patted the wallet in my front pocket.