BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock x Reader | A Date

Description: John convinces Sherlock to take you on a date, and you happily accept.
Warnings: Fluff, Swearing.
Word Count: 1070
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John's Point Of View

"How long have you and Y/n been together?" I ask Sherlock.

"Several months, why?" He responds.

"And you've never taken her on a date?"

"I have, plenty of times." He scoffs.

"Taking her to crime scenes does not count."

"Oh."

"So, never then?"

Sherlock doesn't reply.

"Why not?" I ask him.

"I'm not one to 'date' as you so call it." He responds.

"But you're dating Y/n."

"Not dating, she is simply my girlfriend." He says, walking away to the kitchen. I get up and follow him.

"You should take her to dinner." I state.

"Okay—"

"And not Speedy's. Somewhere nice." I cut him off.

"Fine."

"I'm serious, Sherlock. She deserves it."

"Alright, alright. I'll ask her when she arrives home." He says.

"Good. I've got to run, tell me how the date goes!" I say, walking out the flat.

Your Point Of View

"Sherlock! Can you help me?" I yell up the stairs, carrying multiple bags of groceries on my arms. I hear the door open and close, and out comes Sherlock, looking rather fancy in his purple shirt and dress pants. He grabs a few bags and helps me lug them up the stairs. We reach the flat and I start to put them away, Sherlock helps as well.

"So, what are you dressed so nice for?" I ask, putting the last item away.

"Dinner, I want to take you to dinner tonight, Y/n." He says, smiling.

"Like a date?" I poke at him, he hates the word.

"Yes, like a date." He rolls his eyes.

"Well then I gladly accept. Just let me get changed." I say, kissing his cheek as I walk to our room.

I put on a nice blue dress, and brush my hair. I quickly put on a little bit of makeup, then walk back out the the living room.

"Shall we?" I say. He nods and puts on his coat. We walk outside and hail a cab, Sherlock gives him the address of a particularly upper class restaurant. There's a gentle rain outside, the drops hit the window and roll down slowly, it was quite relaxing.

We arrive at the restaurant, and walk in together, hand in hand. The place was lovely, there were beautiful sparkling lights everywhere, a sky light in the ceiling, allowing us to look at the starts and the small raindrops littering the glass. We wait to be seated, the restaurant wasn't extremely busy, but it was fairly packed.

"This place is amazing, Sherlock." I say in awe. He smiles in response, hanging both our coats on the coat hanger inside the door. After a few minutes, a young lady in a waitress uniform walks up to us, smiling.

"Hello! Table for two?" She asks.

"Yes, please." Sherlock replies.

"Alright, right this way!" She says, motioning us to follow her. She leads us to a table in the middle of the restaurant, next to an adorable little tree. We sit down and she pours us both glasses of water before leaving. Moments later a man walks up with a bottle in his hand.

"Champagne?" He asks.

"Oh, yes!" I say. He pours Sherlock and I both generous glasses, and leaves the bottle with us, along with two menus. I look through the menu, and there's so much good food, I can't decide on which to get. I notice Sherlock isn't too interested in the menu, must be his 'work first, eat later' rule.

"Aren't you going to choose something?" I ask him.

"I'm not all that hungry." He says.

"Yes you are, choose something, Sherlock, there's so many choices!" I smile at him. He opens up the menu and begins to look.

Sherlock always listens to me, it annoys John.

I decide to go with the lemon pepper orzo pasta with roasted chicken.

"Have you chosen?" I ask him.

"Yes, the uh, lemon pepper orzo pasta." He answers, closing his menu.

"You have good taste, I chose the same thing." I giggle. He laughs a bit too. The waiter walks up shortly after.

"What can I get for you this fine evening?" He asks.

"We will both have the lemon pepper orzo pasta, please." Sherlock says to the man.

"Wonderful choice!" He smiles, nodding to us then leaving to the kitchen.

"So, no good cases recently?" I ask Sherlock.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, you're taking me on a date, you must be bored, no?"

"John said I should take you to dinner. You deserve it, putting up with me must be a challenge." He jokes. I laugh at the true statement.

"You've got that right, but it's worth it, Sherly." I say fluttering my eyes.

"Why must you call me that." He rolls his eyes.

"It's a nickname!" I laugh.

"What's your nickname, then?"

"Whatever you want it to be." I say. He taps his chin for a moment, thinking.

(Here you'll have to think of a ridiculous nickname based on your name. The abbreviation for your nickname is y/n/n)

"Y/n/n." He says, smiling a devilish smile.

"Oh god." I say. We both laugh, harder than we have in weeks. We straighten ourselves up as I see our waiter approaching with two plates.

"For the lady," he says, placing the bowl in front of me.

"and for the gentlemen. Bon appétit!" He says, setting Sherlock's in front of him, and walking away.

The dish smells amazing, to say the least. I take my fork and immediately dig in, as does Sherlock.

(Time skip)

"Have a wonderful evening!" Our waiter says as we leave the restaurant. The brisk air hits my face and I wrap my jacket around me. Sherlock takes my hand as we walk the streets of London, in search of a taxi.

"Thank you for tonight, Sherlock. It was the best evening I've had in a while." I say to him.

"It's my pleasure, I have to treat my lady every once in a while." He smiles.

Shortly after, a cab pulls up and we get in, making our way back to 221B.

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This was difficult to write, I've never been on a legitimate date so I had to google what the fuck you talk about on them.

May we meet again.

- SW -