Just a Fluffy Johnlock

The Outing

A/N: Hi! This story was originally meant to be a one shot, but people seem to enjoy it ( I don't know why XD) But, I don't want to let y'all down so I'm deciding to make it longer. Hope you like it!

After John and Sherlock left Mycroft's office and Sherlock had given a snide nod the Blonde secretary who had (God forbid) made John feel uncomfortable, they stood outside the building just breathing in the warm spring air.

"Hey, Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?"

"It's a really lovely day and I'm sick of being stuck in the flat, do you want to grab lunch somewhere? Unless you're too upset... Oh my god, Sherl, I'm so sorry. Your father just died, you probably just want to be alone, I'm so sorry... I'll call Molly instead... I- how rude of me..." John's face flushed with crimson and he put a hand to his forehead, avoiding looking at Sherlock.

"Lunch sounds great." Sherlock whispered as a small smile etched up his face. John looked really cute when he was embarrassed.

"What?"

"John, My father was never around. He left when I was 10. I only knew he wasn't dead when he came to my graduation. He never loved me. And I would never mourn him. So lunch sounds great." Sherlock said very seriously, grabbing John's shoulder on the last scentence.

"Oh- Okay? Where do you wanna go..?" John stuttered, surprised and a little scared by his friends sudden streak of passionate emotion.

Immediately snapping out of his festering anger toward his father, Sherlock grabbed John's wrist and started full speed down the street.

"SHERLOCK! Where are you dragging me?!" John screeched, his shoes skidding on the pavement as Sherlock charged down the sidewalk, hardly pausing to give a fleeting " 'Cuse me" to other pedestrians he nearly trampeled.

"Cafe. Nice atmosphere. Outdoor. Deli. Two blocks down." Sherlock said choppily over his shoulder. Then, deciding that it would be more efficient, and the fact that he had always wanted to, Sherlock spun around and picked John up. He proceeded to put John on his back "Piggy Back style" and continue running. John continued to scream garbled noises of disagreement over Sherlock's shoulders most along the lines of "Put me down you crazy Wanker" and "I hate you" .

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to poor John, Sherlock skidded to a stop in front of a petite cafe and hoisted the smaller blonde off his back and on to the ground.

"Well, it's about time..." John mumbled, brushing himself off. When he looked up, Sherlock was beaming proudly at was possibly the tiniest restaurant he had ever seen. Really. It was. It was also on the corner of Wake Street and Dole, and had three small metal tables outside, and large open windows right underneath a yellow flashing sign that read "Henrietta's".

Sherlock looked excitedly at John with large eyes that reminded John of a young boy who had found a new toy he wanted.

"So? What do you think?"

"It's kinda small, don't you think Sherlock?"

"Well... I suppose. But... it's nice. I mean if you don't like it we can go somewhere else..."

John immediately regretted insulting the cafe, when he saw the look in Sherlock's eyes flash into embarrassment as they turned down and were shaded by shaggy dark hair. Sherlock almost never got that excited about anything besides murder and John had already made him upset once today about his Dad.

"No! It's fine. It's perfect. I'm sure it's perfect." He said touching the others arm, "Let's get a table."

Sherlock grinned and showed John into the clean, brightly lit Deli. Inside there were 5 tables with yellow, floral table clothes and small vases of daisies on each one. In a refrigerated case next to the counter, there were lots of sandwiches, and a few types of cake.

Behind the counter was a small, older woman, probably around 50, with purple cat eye glasses and orange and grey hair. She smiled wide and greeted Sherlock and John in a very strong Boston accent, unusual in London.

"Sherlock dear! It's wonderful to see you! And you must be the infamous John, eh? I've heard a lot about you!"

Sherlock blushed and coughed while John smiled and introduced himself. "Oh really? I hope all good things!" he laughed. "Well, yes I'm John... and you are?" (How could Sherlock be friends with someone so nice and loud?)

"Ah! So nice to meet you sweetie. I'm Henrietta Goldberg, but you can call me Henrietta or Mrs. Goldberg."

The lady beamed as she leaned across the counter and gave John a rather strangling embrace.

"Anyways, Mrs. Goldberg me and John had been looking for lunch... Do you have any chicken salad left, it's always very good." Sherlock interrupted.

" 'Course sweet heart. On the house, obviously for my little Sherly." John stifled a giggle.

As the two sat down outside with their lunch, John laughed mid bite and leaned over to the darker haired man.

"Good sandwiches."

"That's why I like it here"

"You seem too know the lady well..."

"I worked there during college, Mrs. Goldberg had me make desserts. She's fairly close to me."

"That's really interesting... Sherly."

John burst out laughing.

"I knew you would get hung up on that... I tell her not to call me that. It's what she called me when I worked there because she thought Sherlock was too cumbersome to say..." Sherlock scoffed.

"Sorry, Sherly." John giggled.

"It's alright Jawn." Sherlock smirked and laughed.

After laughing lots and paying Mrs. Goldberg, Jawn and Sherly returned to 221B just in time for John to catch the new episode of his favorite American show, Supernatural. Plopping himself down in the couch John tuned the TV to CBS and turned up the volume.

"Not this mindless American dribble" Sherlock said distastefully at the Television, sitting on the couch, crossing his legs. "The older brother annoys me. He's rather brash and dumb like Anderson. But he is pretty I suppose."

"That's Dean, and I think you'd like him if you gave him a chance. He's very clever, like you." John retorted, turning up the volume.

"Psh. Whatever." Sherlock said dismissively. (He would never admit it, but he loves Supernatural and has watched all the episodes behind John's back. John knows because he always knows what happens in the next episode, but has never called him out on it.)

After Supernatural ended, John turned the TV to some bad, old movie. Neither really watched it and John eventually fell asleep and flopped onto Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock's eyes went wide. not wanting to disturb John, he gently picked him up and laid him across the couch, scanning his sleeping outline, watching his steady breathes. Sherlock whisked a blanket over John and whispered to himself, when he thought nobody else could hear, what he had always wanted to say to his dear John.

"I love you."

A/N: Ay! So that's another chapter! I hope you liked it, I tried my best. I think this story will be a good one, I have lots of ideas for the next part!