Happy For the Stranger (Johnlock)

5

Pulling a comb through my hair I stare at my reflection, glancing over at the door where two sea-coloured eyes and half a nose peer through the gap between the door and the frame.

"Sherlock?" I say, not taking my eyes from the mirror, continuing to comb my hair, the trimmed suit hung loosely over the shower curtain/

"Fancy something to eat?" He says quietly.

"No, sorry. I have a date." I say, rolling my eyes. I do not want to go on this date. I'd rather have dinner with Sherlock.

"Date?" More of his appears in the doorway, along with part of his skinny body.

"Yeah, date. When two people who like each other go out, eat food, have fun." I say with a hint of a smile.

"That's what I was suggesting." He says, his face completely serious as his whole body appears in the doorway, obviously eyeing me with interest. His robe is untied and hanging open, his muscular chest showing, along with his abs and visible v-line, where his pants come down. I'm not gay. I'm not gay.

"Some other time, Sherlock."

I walk past him out the doorway, my arm brushing against his and a tingle flows through my whole body.

He follows me down the stairs and all the way to the front door, pouting the entire time.

"No, Sherlock, you can't come!" I say again as I turn around in the doorway. "I promise we can go on a 'date'" I put quotations around the 'date' so it's not subjective. After all, I'm sure that neither of us are gay. "Tomorrow. Ok?"

His outing stops and his face perks up. "Ok. Bye John!" He shoves me out the door and slams it.

Shaking my head, I hail a cab. It's one extreme to the next with that man.

Once the cab approaches the restaurant I check my hair again and pay the cabbie before stepping out onto the darkening street, only lit by the streetlights.

The girl is already sitting at the table, sipping a glass of wine, so I put on a fake smile and greet her before sitting down. She has long, pretty brown hair and actually doesn't seem to be that bad. Our order is taken right away, and she divulges into small talk. I hardly pay attention, as I'm busy thinking about Sherlock. Was he suggestive? Was I suggestive?

"John." My name is called and i snap out of my thoughts.

"What was that?"

She looks deflated and shakes her head. "Nevermind." She sips her wine again and I immediately feel bad. I start up another conversation, this time, not letting my mind wander, and pretending to be interested in the subject.

"Pst!" I hear coming from my left, but I ignore it when I hear nothing.

"Pssst!" Mary doesn't seem to notice it, so I ignore it again.

"Psssst, John!" Looking around, I know I heard something. A dark shadow catches my eye from under the empty table to my left. A dorky smiling face pops out from under the table cloth, accompanied by a head of curly hair. "John!"

"Sherlock?" I say, horrified. "What are you doing?!"