LET'S DO THIS THING

[aphelionix]

While by no means a device to get Sherlock to shut up, the telly did manage to at least make him sit in one place. (Unless he was particularly into one of the cheesy soaps on, in which case he'd jump out of his chair and yell at the actors.) He had recently gotten into another disagreement with his brother, as well, and it was a good distraction. It kept John from getting caught in the middle, holding each brother at arms length away from each others' throats.

There was the occasional text Sherlock would look at and ignore, going back to the telly. Lestrade didn't have any good cases for him. He put his phone back in his pocket, huffing with disappointment.

"John. Want some tea?" he said, making the motion to look over his shoulder, despite not looking away from the screen.

Comments

[aphelionix]

"John," Sherlock whined, standing up. He had that expression about him that said he knew he did something wrong, but wasn't sure why it was. With a sigh, he started pulling his coat on, heading for the door.

[pugsmuggler]

John simply looked back on Sherlock with confusion. "Where are you going now?"

MISERABLE

[aphelionix]

"I thought you weren't talking to me," Sherlock stated, smiling halfheartedly as he disappeared out the door.

I HOPE YOU ARE NO MISERABLE NOW

[pugsmuggler]

John just breathed a sigh as he heard the door slam. "I don't care. I don't care."

awww john cares

[aphelionix]

The flat was silent for a good hour. The night had since closed in, dimming the rooms down to the few warm lights their apartment had. Sherlock hadn't shown up yet; hadn't called or texted. Mrs. Hudson had come by to check up on things. It was too quiet, and that was never a good sign - she was reluctant to believe things were okay. But otherwise, things were calm.

About five minutes past the hour, a text came in on John's phone.

Downstairs. Speedy's Cafe. Right now. -SH

[pugsmuggler]

John paused before texting back. He thought about asking "why," but really, it was rare to go so long without so much as a bother from Sherlock, so John, against his better judgement, decided to grab his coat and go.

He was at Speedy's Cafe within seven minutes.

[aphelionix]

Downstairs at the cafe, Sherlock was sitting with a woman at one of the tables, a small candle flickering between them. Once John came into view, Sherlock smiled and stood. The woman followed suit, watching the other man.

"There you are. John, this is Suzanne. Suzanne, John," he proceeded to introduce, allowing no questions or accusations from his flatmate. "I once got her out of an unfavorable trial. I can't believe I never introduced you two. Silly of me. Go ahead and acquaint yourselves. I forgot something upstairs."

And as quickly as John arrived, Sherlock left. Suzanne smiled warmly at John. She was just his type, Sherlock knew; long, brown hair that curled at the ends, a femininely wise face, and held herself confidently.

"Nice to meet you," she said. "Mr. Holmes ordered some biscuits. He said we should go ahead and eat without him."

[pugsmuggler]

"Oh, um," John spared a passing glance to Sherlock as he left the cafe, though his attention quickly came back to the woman. His shoulders stiffened, and with a slight air of awkwardness, he smiled, claiming the seat across the woman with a spot of hesitance. "Yes, nice to meet you as well. Suzanne."

you can skip past the date if you want

[aphelionix]

Not long after Sherlock had disappeared, some violin playing started to sound from the window upstairs. It certainly set a mood - a candlelit dinner with romantic music, at night in a quiet cafe. Suzanne looked delighted by the atmosphere and company. She wasn't afraid to ask questions about John, or answer any he might've had in return. It'd be hard to guess, from this night, that Sherlock had any misunderstandings about romance; but if anyone knew better, it was John. Sherlock just knew how to observe.

[pugsmuggler]

Eventually, John joined Sherlock back in the apartment, a pleasant expression on his face and a receipt tucked away in his front pocket (apparently he'd offered to pay for more than just biscuits). He hung his coat over the couch arm as he entered, heading straight for his laptop.

[aphelionix]

"Going to blog about it now?" Sherlock said from the kitchen, preparing tea.

[pugsmuggler]

"No," John replied. "But I am going to submit what I was writing earlier."

[aphelionix]

With a sigh, Sherlock brought a cup of tea to John, sitting down with his own. He was in his sleepwear and a robe now.

"I suppose the world can survive another dramatic retelling of my genius," he said. "I trust you and Suzanne got on well."

[pugsmuggler]

"Yes, very well," John agreed. "Thank you."

"You, made tea?" he added in surprise, turning his glance to follow where Sherlock had sat.

[aphelionix]

"Yes?" Sherlock turned on the TV, attention elsewhere - at least, outwardly.

[pugsmuggler]

John shook his head, and as his glance fell back to the screen, he scooped up the mug by its hilt and took a sip. "You keep on surprising me."

[aphelionix]

A corner of Sherlock's mouth lifted, and he sipped his own tea.

"Good."