Happy For the Stranger (Johnlock)

18

  2 weeks pass, and the relationship between me and Sherlock continues to grow. We go on small coffee dates, afternoon walks, and I have officially moved all my things to the downstairs bedroom, and there is a new neighbour upstairs, where I used to be. I think she said her name is Molly or something and she is quite nice.

Sherlock doesn't like her, but whenever she comes downstairs, I invite her for tea, despite Sherlock's protests, and he then sulks in the corner the whole time.

She told me about her boyfriend Tom, and that's when Sherlock finally joins us from the couch. Once she leaves I glance at him knowingly.

"Is-is the reason you didn't like her is because you thought she was hitting on me?"

He lays his head on mis crossed arms and pouts.

"You were jealous! Sherlock!"

I burst out in laughter and l have to almost leave that room.

"Sherlock, you are so soft! I would never leave you." I cup his face in my hands and kiss him lightly.

"John?" He looks up, his mood changed. "Let's go for dinner tonight."

"We went for dinner last night." I say.

"We had takeout, that's hardly dinner. We're going somewhere fancy tonight." He stand up and walks from the kitchen, his robe flowing behind him and motions for me to follow.

I do and he leads me to the bedroom, where I see two black suits, wrapped and pressed. "Sherlock! Really? This is going to be very nice." I say, looking at the suits.

He smiles. "Reservations are at 7. I have some... stuff." He leaves the room and I hear the front door slam. Shaking my head, this isn't uncommon. He's not even wearing clothes, just his robe.

I used to chase him, beg him to come back and change, comb his hair at least, but every time he ignores me, so now I just let him walk around like that, embarrassing himself.

I drink tea, read the paper, watch telly, and wait for Sherlock to come home, but he doesn't. The clock is nearing 7, and I still have no idea where he is. My phone buzzes with a text from Sherlock.

Clos Maggiore. 7 PM. Reservation for Holmes.

I smile knowing that he hasn't forgotten, and is probably just running late and will meet me there. I smile at myself in the mirror, running my hand through my gelled hair, and brushing my suit. I look good.

Exiting the flat I say goodbye to Molly who must just be coming back from grocery shopping, judging by the plastic bags dangling off her arms.

"Have a good night Molly."

"You too John. You look nice. You going out?"

"Uhm, yes. Fancy dinner with Sherlock." I smile and straighten my suit.

"Have fun you too." She smiles and walks up to her flat.

I hail a cab and tell the cabbie the restaurant. As I near the destination I get more nervous and excited to see Sherlock.

I pay the cabbie and thank him, and when I enter the restaurant I tell him Sherlock's last name and the waitress smiles, motioning for me to follow him.

"He's a very lucky man." She says and winks as she lights a candle by the table.

She leaves, and I'm left by myself, fixing my suit and waiting for Sherlock to come. After a few minutes I look up to see that I've been joined at the table. Sherlock sits across from me, his black curls framing his face perfectly and his cheekbones sharpened, his sea blue eyes boring into mine.

"Wow, you... you look stunning."

I say taking his hand, and smile.

'Likewise."