It Could be You

Chapter 4

Sherlock waited nervously behind the front door of 221B Baker Street; He'd been there since 6:45 and he fully intended to wait until 7:00 pm and open the door casually when Carter knocked. He'd practiced breathing calmly. He didn't want to appear too nervous nor too detached. He didn't want to botch this up.

He'd changed clothes at least a half dozen times finally opting for a dark blue button up shirt, no tie, and a jacket. Because of the warmth of the day, he'd decided to forgo his usual armor and leave the Belstaff at home. If he wanted to give this relationship a try, he'd have to be less prickly and standoffish. He hadn't spent two years watching John woo his insipid dates not to have learned something from him about interacting with the object of his desire.

Speaking of desire, Sherlock had spent the ensuing hours thinking about whether or not Carter might want to be physical with him. He'd showered, of course, shaved and put on his best cologne. He'd taken some care with his hair and even trimmed his nose hairs for god's sake. He hoped this nervous, jittery part of the relationship would last only a mercifully short time. He doubted he could sustain the illusion of good humor indefinitely. But, for the sake of seeing Carter smile at him again like he'd done that afternoon, Sherlock would try.

The casual knock startled him out of his reverie. He straightened and counted to ten. He did not want the man to think he'd been lurking behind the door to spring out at him like a Jack-in-the-box. Then, he opened the door and found Carter waiting on the pavement. If anything, he looked delicious in a white cashmere jumper and worn denims that appeared to have been tailored just for his spectacular physique. Sherlock couldn't help but look him up and down.

Carter nodded and grinned, "I pulled out all the stops. Just for you, Sherlock," he said spread his arms and gave a little twirl. The denims hugged his ass like a glove and Sherlock drug his eyes up to meet Carter's. They were green, Sherlock noted. How had he not noticed that before?

"You looked good in your café clothes, but I have to say this suits you better," Sherlock said and stepped out to meet him.

"God, you look like you stepped off a runway," Carter said. "But you always do."

"Hmmm, always?" he asked something about the idea nagging in the back of his mind.

"Yes," Carter said and fell into an easy step next to Sherlock. "Lead the way."

The next hour passed quickly. Sherlock ordered something he'd only pick at, and Carter tried the Pad Thai. He'd spent his time researching how to make a first date go well. One website suggested being a good listener if the other person liked to talk. So, Sherlock consciously spent the hour listening to Carter's descriptions of his firefighter training. He asked specific questions and nodded in encouragement.

In return, he described the case he and John had solved that morning and Carter listened in rapt attention and Sherlock was rewarded with that look he'd been craving since that afternoon.

"I've got a confession to make," Carter said finally.

Sherlock waited for him to continue, "And, that is?"

"I've read about you in the papers. I mean I knew what you did before I met you today. I've been amazed by you for a while now. I just never thought I'd get to know you. I've seen pictures of you. It's kind of like meeting a famous person you've heard about in the news or on the Telly but never really concentrated on until you met them face-to-face. It's a bit surreal."

"I've held off deducing you, you know," Sherlock said.

"Why?" Carter asked. "I half expected you to have done it already."