Finally [Johnlock]

Resturant Part 1

Sherlock held open the door for John as they walked inside. It was a nice restaurant. Romantic even.

How long has Sherlock been thinking of bringing me here? John wondered. This is one of the most romantic restaurants I've ever seen. All these candles.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was deducing everything possible about this restaurant. He wanted to make sure it was good enough for John. If the first date blows then everything goes to hell.

Sherlock and John approached the host, a dark haired man, who seemed nice enough.

"Hello, gentlemen, how many are in your party?" He asked.

"Just us two." John said.

"Alright," the host said. "If you'll just follow me-"

"I would like your best seat in this restaurant." Sherlock said. The host looked at him in confusion. "Unless you would like your wife to know where you'll be disappearing to after this shift."

"I- I don't understand what you're saying, sir." The host said.

"Gambling?" Sherlock said. "I doubt you've really had your car stolen."

The host's eyes widened in shock. "How- how- how did you know that?" He stammered.

"Ring. Shoes. Scar." Sherlock said. "Simple. Your best table, please?" Sherlock flashed the host his smile. Not the smile he gives John, the smile that shows all of his teeth and contorts his face into something strange.

"Right! Yes, sir." The host said, panicked. "I am going to make sure the table is ready for you." The host scurried off.

"What the bloody hell was that!" John said. "Blackmailing a host into giving us a good table. Unbelievable."

"Are you impressed?" Sherlock asked with a grin.

"Well... Yeah, but it's not good to blackmail people." John said. "Especially people you don't know, and are using them to get a petty, selfish thing."

"I'm doing it for you, John." Sherlock said. God, I love him but sometimes he is so blind. Sherlock thought.

Upon hearing the words "for you, John", John's mind began to race. For me? Who would ever do anything for me? John thought. Why would he ever do this for me? He's in love with you idiot! Of course he's in love with you. But why? What does Sherlock see in me? That one thought bounced around John's head, even as John and Sherlock got led to their table. Even as they sat down in one of the most romantic places John had ever been. John and Sherlock were led to a quiet corner of the restaurant. There was an open table, small but perfect for two people, that was embellished with a candle and two roses. Sherlock and John sat down and were given two menus.

No matter the setting, the same thought kept arriving to John's head. What does the great Sherlock Holmes, worlds only consulting detective, see in the pathetic, PTSD-ridden, dull John Hamish Watson? Why does Sherlock love me?

John, however, didn't realize that while he was thinking he was also dead silent. Not only that, but he had a look on his face that seemed like Rosie when she was constipated.

"John, are you alright?" Sherlock asked. "Your expression would suggest that you are in a degree of pain."

"What? No, I'm fine." John said, shaking off his thoughts even though they never entirely left. "So... Uh... This is the menu?" John asked, picking up the menu in front of him.

"I don't know what else you think it would be, John." Sherlock said, with an obvious tone of concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." John said. "I was just thinking about something. I'm good now." John dived into his menu to avoid any more of this conversation.

Sherlock also looked at his menu, but periodically stole glances at John, sitting across the small table. Sherlock was concerned. More than that, Sherlock was afraid. Why is John acting so different? Sherlock pondered to himself. Sherlock was perfect at everything else, except understanding human emotions. Now the one time Sherlock needed to make deductions, it just made him confused. Does John not like our date? Did I push things too fast?

Before he knew it, Sherlock was deducing at paces unheard of. He recognized that three couples in his immediate eyesight had at least one cheating member, that one family recently had a death of a grandpa- no, uncle!- and were grieving. Sherlock's eyes were flying so fast around the room, Sherlock's head was so far into his deductions that he didn't even notice that John was speaking.

"Sherlock..." John said. "Sherlock. Sherlock!"

By the third "Sherlock", Sherlock eventually realized that John was talking.

"Sherlock!" John said.

"Yes, yes, what darling?" Sherlock said, in sort of a trance.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you just called me darling," John said in a slightly sarcastic tone of voice, even though he was blushing so hard he thought he would catch on fire, "And ask: Are you okay, Sherlock?"

"Um... Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Perfectly fine, actually. Why do you ask? Am I acting strange? I'm not acting strange. I'm perfectly fine. I assure you, John. I'm okay." Sherlock said without taking a single breath.

"To me it seems like you're having anxiety." John said.

"I'm a high functioning sociopath. I've never gotten anxiety." Sherlock said.

"You've never fallen in love either." John said. Sherlock's expression turned to a deadpan as he realized he was right. Sherlock looked at John, pretending to be uninterested. John knew that Sherlock was trying to trick him into thinking that Sherlock already knew this. But John knew he had won. John won a battle of wits with Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock didn't break eye contact with John, no not once. Even as Sherlock grabbed his glass of water and took a tentative sip. The blue eyes met the brown ones with a ferociousness that neither one of them dared break.

Then John did something unexpected. John changed his expression to one that strongly implied sex.

Sherlock, as he was still drinking water, had an explosion of feelings when John put on that face. In fact, Sherlock choked on his drink and hit his knee on the table. Hard.

John lost all control of his face and broke out into laughter. He was laughing so hard that half the restaurant turned and looked at him. John didn't care. John instead was thinking: OH MY GOD I CAUSED SHERLOCK HOLMES TO CHOKE ON HIS DRINK WITH ONE LOOK THIS IS AMAZING YOU'VE REALLY OUTDONE YOURSELF JOHN!

Sherlock, on the other hand, was more worried about another problem. All his blood was rushing south. Keep it together, Sherlock. Don't let John know, don't let John know that you got a boner because of a fucking look. Keep it cool, keep it cool.

So there sat Sherlock, desperately trying to cover up both his erection and his embarrassment, and John, who was busting a gut laughing.

The evening was going well.

--
Thank you all so much for reading!! It means the literal world to me. I'm gonna be doing these authors notes because it's fun and I want to make sure that I can better my story.

So, again, leave your thoughts, it would make my life.

Later! -Dillon