The Gay Case

Chapter 20

I just hope he says "yes."

//John POV//

"We're going on holiday."

What? Already? We've only been dating - if that's what you could call it - for three weeks! God, it has flew by.

"Oh, okay. When?" I stuttered, still shocked at the sudden fact.

"Tomorrow, eight pm. I have to go." He walked to the door and pulled hus coat and scarf from the back of it in an attempt to put then both on in one swift movement. He failed miserably.

"Erm, where to?" I am not jealous, just slightly curious... What? I'm a curious person. Hey, don't judge! I really am.

"Just to see Gary."

"Who is Gary?" Who now?

"George. Graham. Grant?" I shook my head. "The white-hair, works in Scotland Yard guy."

God, he can be stupid.

"Greg."

"Greg! I knew it. Didn't I say Greg?" Whatever, Sherlock. Say what you want, think something else. He shook his own head and turned back to the door. He was looking for his 'Death Frisbee.' By the way, thats his Sherlock hat, the deer stalker one. Either way, it wasn't there. I saw it before Sherlock did so I moved towards it swiftly, grasping it and putting it onto my own head, before tapping Sherlock on the shoulder.

"You have my Death Frisbee." He stuck out his bottom lip playfully. Damn, he still looks cute. I laughed and pulled him into a kiss. He took his hat back. Like, actually pulled it offvofvmy head, along with a big clump of my hair. Ow.

Tears sprung in my eyes when he ripped it out - it reallgy hurt. And now, I probably have a bald patch in the middle of my head. Yay.

//Sherlock POV//

I smiled at John, said a quick goodbye and left. I had lied to John. I know I had promised, but I really couldn't tell him this one. He'll find out in Ireland.

I got outside and flagged down a cab, which thankfully stopped. I told the cabbie the address I was going to and he took me.

To be honest, I'm surprised cabbies are still trusted after what John calls A Study In Pink. For some reason, I still do too. However, this cabbie was going the right route.

When we stopped outside of the shop, I tried to pay the man, but he said it was on him. He told me "Good luck, mate." And drove off. Thank God. Just at that very moment I got a phone call. I grabbed my iPhone and looked at the Caller ID. 'John.'

I picked it up, cautiously. What if he has followed me? Is he in trouble? Thoughts like these rung through my mind, as I heard his voice on the other end.

"Sherlock, where are you? You're not at Lestrade's, I just rung him." He sounded worried, but I couldn't tell him where I was. Instead, I said "Fine, you caught me. I'm shopping for Christmas." Considering it was only October, he believed me. Well, I do like to shop for stuff early, what with all this commotion around the holidays.

When he hung up, I turned my mobile off and walked into the shop behind me.

The one that's called H. Samuels.