To Make Life Worth Living

~11~

"So, why do you need me to come with you again?" John asked, straightening his tie nervously. The taxi lurched through the traffic on the way to the fancy restaurant. Summer was practically over so they chose not to walk.

Sherlock peered across at the smaller man, "The suspect is dining here tonight. I need to get in close to observe and I couldn't go alone without drawing attention to myself." He spoke quickly.

John nodded but Sherlock's words didn't go much to easing his tension. If this was a real case then he didn't want to do something wrong or mess up. It'd been years since he had done any sort of covert operation. Basically since he was invalided from the army. He shifted on the leather seat.

Sherlock was peering out of the rain speckled window, completely oblivious to John's discomfort. Outside it was dark, night had fallen a couple of hours ago, the lampposts cast an orange glow on the streets as the taxi rushed past. The detective stared unseeingly into the world beyond the window.

The restaurant was fancy, a true 5 star affair... So much so, John wouldn't usually even be able to afford the air inside. Sherlock had assured him that his government big brother had something to do with getting a place at such an establishment. He must have pulled some strings.

The cab pulled up outside and Sherlock was out in mere milliseconds so he could sprint around to hold John's door for him. It was a strange gesture but John thought nothing of it- more entranced by the shear size of the restaurant. It was an old London red brick building but with a Morden twist of huge windows stretching up several floors. John's jaw was slack as he peered up to the top of the building.

"Do you like it?" Sherlock inquired, casually. His eyes focused on the smaller man.

"It's amazing, Sherlock." John murmured sincerely.

"Let's go." The detective grabbed John's hand to haul him towards the entrance of the building.

---

The waiter gave them their menus before leaving to give them time to deliberate. John's grey eyes immediately began scanning the room around them with intent.

"So, who are we looking for?" He whispered, eyes still roaming.

"Wha-?" Sherlock suddenly remembered his ploy and played along, "Oh, Don't worry, John. I specifically chose this table as I knew I'd be able to survey the area. You are just acting as an excuse for me to be here. I would stand out if I were sitting here alone."

"So you don't need me to help?"

Sherlock couldn't tell if John was upset or not so he assumed not.

"Just enjoy yourself!" Sherlock grinned.

---

His lips were permanently curled into a smile, Sherlock's mouth was aching as a result. The detective wasn't accustomed to grinning at people all that often but tonight he couldn't really resist. Just watching John talking about his son was making him happy.

"But I don't know. He's a good kid really. What about you? Do you have kids?" John asked after a lengthy monologue. He'd grown tired of the sound of his own voice, something Sherlock would never experience.

Sherlock snapped out of staring and smiling so he could actually answer, "I'd never really thought much about it. I'd always assumed I'd have to spend years just struggling to find someone to be with let alone have a child."

John nodded thoughtfully, "I knew the feeling."

---

It was only when they were both back in the taxi and shuttling back to John's small flat to relieve the babysitter, Greg, that John suddenly remember the whole reason they'd headed out there in the first place. He felt kind of guilty that he'd been selfish and hasn't helped Sherlock more.

"Did you find the person you were looking for?"

Sherlock gave him a soft smile before turning back towards the window and muttering, "I certainly did find him."

John thought the tall man's answer was cryptic but he'd grown used to all sorts of bizarre behaviours from Sherlock, especially since they'd been hanging out at least twice a week now. As they'd grown closer John had been adjusting again to having someone close by.

It'd been a while since Richard had to leave but everyday since he'd felt a bitter loneliness consuming him. Sherlock, with his quick wit and sarcasm, had acted as a light against the eternal darkness.

At one dark point, it was only Hamish that made his life worth living. Now, he could say that maybe Sherlock also made each day better.

Lost in his thoughts, John didn't notice the plethora of times Sherlock ducked his head and peaked at the other man through his hair like a shy school child. He wanted to see inside John's head to know if his feels would be retuned.