You're An Idiot, Sherlock Holmes (OC x Sherlock)

Drugs bust

"Northumberland Street's a five-minute walk from here," Sherlock says as we cross the street. 

"You think that the murderer would be stupid enough to go there?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. 

"No, I think he's brilliant enough," he answers with intrigue in his voice.

"Wait, sorry-?"

"I love the brilliant ones, they're all so desperate to get caught," he continues. 

"What, for appreciation?" I say with a laugh.

"Yes! And the applause!" I wasn't being serious, but okay. "At long last the spotlight for them. That's the frailty of a genius, Jane, it needs an audience." He looks around. "This is his hunting ground. Right here, in the heart of the city." He makes a full three-sixty while still walking forward. "Now that we know his victims were abducted, this changes everything. All of his victims have disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go." His hands make exaggerated movements. "Think!" he suddenly exclaims. "Who do we trust, even though we don't know them?" I look around for some sort of clue. "Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?" At this point, I'm not sure if he wants me to suggest some people or if this is one of those rhetorical question sessions he has with himself when he's thinking out loud. 

"I dunno," I say finally, making myself sound like an idiot for no reason. "Who?"

"Haven't the faintest," he answers, turning the corner and making his way to a restaurant. "Hungry?" 

I follow him into a dimly lit restaurant, where we're immediately directed to a table by the window. 

"Twenty-two Northumberland Street," Sherlock states as we sit down. He was able to face the window, while my back got the view. "Keep your eyes on it. He has killed four people." His eyes haven't left the window. 

"Sherlock!" a waiter says walking up to us. Sherlock shakes his hand and gives a small smile. "Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free." He hands us our menus while quickly glancing at me. "On the house, for you and your date."

I instantly look up. "I'm not his date," I say, furrowing my eyebrows. 

"This man got me off a murder charge!"

"This is Angelo," Sherlock explains, looking back out the window. "Three years ago I proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking." My eyes go wide in surprise. I've been doing that a lot recently, don't know why.

"This man cleared my name!"

"I cleared it a bit," he corrects. "Anything happening opposite?"

"Nothing. but for this man, I would have gone to prison."

"You did go to prison."

"I'll get a candle for the table," Angelo says, changing the subject. "It's more romantic." 

I sigh in frustration. "I'm not his date!" Angelo had already walked away, so saying anything would change nothing. 

but why is it that I've had to correct Angelo saying it's not a date while Sherlock hasn't said anything? Either he's so focused on this case that he won't bother correcting a little misconception like that, or- no, not possible, I won't let my mind go to that scenario. It's basically nothing, I shouldn't let myself go there. The way Sherlock looks in his dress shirt, how he's sitting at our table, the way the lighting from the cars outside makes his face- okay, I need to seriously stop with this.