a lovely date for a murder, don't you agree

[deductivedetective]

Neither of them called it a date. Sherlock may not have been the most socially up-to-speed person, but he knew what this was; what John was asking. He humored him and agreed, not pressing the matter. It wasn't unusual for them to to be together anyway, even before this. In fact, catching them without the other was even more odd.

It wasn't too fancy, anyway. The Chinese place down the street was good, and authentic (according to Sherlock's verification), and reasonably priced for two men sharing money. The atmosphere wasn't romantic, at least. Sherlock imagined the pressure on John would be lessened if just for that reason, even if he didn't understand the big deal.

"Eating in today for once, eh, Sherlock?" the host asked with a polite smile as they entered. "Two, then?"

"Yes, thank you," Sherlock said, looking at John. "Any plans after this, by the way?"

Comments

[deductivedoctor]

John tugged off his coat before he sat, hanging it from the support of the chair. "I hadn't really thought ahead," He admitted, retrieving one of the yellow paper lunch menus from the center of the table. "It's a bit out of the way, but I suppose we could stop by the park... I would suggest a film, but I'm not sure if a cinema is the best place to bring you knowing how you talk to the telly."

[deductivedetective]

"I never could sit through those things," he said, draping his coat along an unoccupied chair at their table. "A walk may not be out of the question, though."

He perused the menu, even though he already had it memorized. It only took a second for Sherlock to decide and push it away, interlocking his hands and simply watching. Nothing particularly exciting was going on, and while that usually had him on edge, he was trying to suppress it. At least for dinner.

[deductivedoctor]

Before John could answer, the waiter had appeared again to collect their orders. John gave Sherlock priority, skimming the menu quickly while Sherlock put in an order. He ended up deciding on a chicken lo mein. After jotting down a few notes, the waiter dropped off a couple waters, and turned promptly to head back into the kitchen.

"Right," he nodded. "Walk it is, then."

[deductivedetective]

There was a brief smile, and a small pause before Sherlock spoke again.

"So," Sherlock started. "What do people usually talk about on these things?"

[deductivedoctor]

"Normally it just involves to people asking each other questions, getting to know each other better," John said. "But... Really I feel like I already know more than I want to."

[deductivedetective]

"Too much, perhaps," he agreed with a grin. Sherlock likely knew too much about John himself, with his ability to read and observe. "I guess we can skip that part."

[deductivedoctor]

"Beyond high school I've never really been able to keep a girlfriend for more than a month or two," John admitted. "I'm not too sure what's customary to talk about once two people actually get to know each other."

[deductivedetective]

"I'm sure it degenerates into dull things, like how work was, or the weather," Sherlock said, disinterested.

[deductivedoctor]

"Now that's not exactly fair," John said. "We talk about work all the time. Actually, a good majority of our conversations involve you complaining about not having it."

[deductivedetective]

"Yes, well, at least our work is interesting."

[deductivedoctor]

Before John could offer any kind of counter argument, their waiter had returned, so John just rolled his eyes. Along with lunch, the waiter had wordlessly brought along a lit candle. The same arrangement had followed them to a few restaurants previously, particularly at ones Sherlock was familiar with, but it was noticeably more awkward for John now that he couldn't deny he wasn't Sherlock's date. John just gave a disgruntled smile as a thanks. Keeping their relationship away from public eye was difficult when half of London already assumed they were an item. John began to pick out the meat in his dish once the waiter had left for the kitchen again.

"So," he said. "Are you actually going to eat something today?"

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock pulled a small soup toward him that the waiter left.

"Sort of, I suppose," he said, picking up a spoon and wiping it clean with his napkin before dipping it into the bowl. "Maybe some dim sum after this, depending."

[deductivedoctor]

"That'd be for the best, yeah. I don't think I've seen you eat anything since Monday."

[deductivedetective]

"Little things, here and there," he admitted, sipping his soup carefully. "Whenever Mrs. Hudson brings something."

Sherlock was beginning to sound distracted. He was listening to something else; someone else. A pair of businessmen a couple tables away, who were talking over some beers. They were being discreet, but Sherlock was piecing together what little bits he could hear - boring mumbo-jumbo about banks and money. He sighed quietly when it turned out to be so unimportant.

[deductivedoctor]

"You can't sustain yourself on that alone," John argued. "And she only brought four biscuits yesterday. I know because I ate all of them."

Noticing Sherlock's straying attention span, John looked in the direction Sherlock seemed to have taken interest in, afterward turning back with a bent brow. He layered his arms over the table, pulling his mouth into a slant. "If you could, just for five seconds, not worry about getting a lead to a new case--"

There was a cracking sound from the corner of the restaurant that cut John off.

A man had fallen, taking his chair with him, onto the tile floor. He was coughing sporadically, taking raspy, dry heaves between each fit. There was a puddle of blood pooling beneath his head, where it trickled out from his mouth. Many of the customers near him, as well as a few of the waitstaff, had flown into a frenzy of exclamations and phone calls. John was the first to leave the table, quickly stationing himself at the man's side.

[deductivedetective]

The detective was quick to follow the doctor - maybe too quick, as though he knew something was going to happen. Or at least had his suspicions.

Sherlock brow sank in concentration as he stooped by the man's other side. Rather than analyzing the man's condition, he seemed to be searching him for clues; the why rather than the how. Ever so swift to jump on a lead for a case.

"No, no- hang in there!" Sherlock started to nearly shout. "Who did this?"

The man was unresponsive, though, choking on blood, his body shaking violently as he held a hand to his throat. He clutched at John's sleeve, shaking his head. He seemed to be mouthing 'why?' and 'help me', until suddenly, he stopped doing anything.

"I called an ambulance!" the waiter shouted in a panic. "T-they should be here soon! Oh god, is he dead?"

[deductivedoctor]

John eased the man over on his stomach so the bile and blood wouldn't suffocate him. He tucked two fingers around the man's wrists to check his pulse, and again at the turn of the man's neck. Carefully, John propped the man up on the support of his knee, beginning to push on the man's back. "He's not going to make the ambulance," John mumbled once under his breath, afterward answering aloud "He's been poisoned. Everyone just... stay calm, don't move. Don't touch anything."

"Oh my god! It's in the food, isn't it!?" A woman cried from her table. "We're all going die!"

"Miss! Please! I am the manager here! I can assure you our staff would do nothing of the sort!"

"I knew I shouldn't have eaten Chinese!"

"Help!!"

John held a grimace as the unrest grew among the witnesses. Even among the chaos, he seemed keen to tend to the body. With a furrowed brow, he did his best to ignore the excited crowd and restore the man's breath, which had long since slithered away. The paranoia of having eaten from the same restaurant hadn't escaped him completely, but he didn't focus on it-- The poison was obviously fast acting, and no one else seemed to be showing symptoms. But what, exactly, was different about this man? It certainly seemed strange that only one person would have been poisoned... unless there was a chef with a particularly nasty grudge.

It wasn't long before sirens gathered outside the doors and around four paramedics burst in with a stretcher to carry the man off with. By the time they had the body in place, they were carrying off a dead man, John was sure of it. He stood once the man was secured in the vehicle, looking on with others as the ambulance sped off, sirens flaring. A couple paramedics had remained stationed at the door.

"All of you, please remain in your seats," said on of the paramedics. "By request of the police, do not leave this building."

John looked confused, "How did the police..."

There was a buzz from his pocket, and, subsequently, Sherlock's.

Where are you? -GL

[deductivedetective]

"Everyone just shut up!" Sherlock yelled. The clamor calmed, but only momentarily. "You," Sherlock pointed at the restaurant owner; one of the many men who owed him. "Throw out all the pork. It's been posioned."

There was more panic amongst the people, but one of the paramedics had the sense to edge people away from the scene, and try to talk them into a calm state. It worked a little.

"This has happened before," Sherlock began to inform John, pulling out his phone. "Lestrade had a feeling something was off about some similar cases. Looks like he's finally on to something. About time."

Kam Wok, on Derrington Street. Man down. Poison.
-SH

[deductivedoctor]

John could not be sure whether to be more aghast with the murder scene that had just unfolded in front of them or the fact that Sherlock had knowingly picked a restaurant he suspected to be poisoning its guests, so instead of making any normal expression he just stared at Sherlock, brow like a hard ledge over his eyes. "You knew about this?!" John shot as an aside, hissing the words under his breath.

You actually guessed the next restaurant they'd hit? We just got a call from that area. I'll be there soon. -GL

[deductivedetective]

"I guessed," he corrected, texting Lestrade. "Don't worry, I wasn't about to let you order pork."

Began to narrow down the other restaurants by their supplier. All from the same place. I think our next step should be deliveries.

-SH

He tucked his phone back in his coat, beginning to study where the man had been dining. The victim was eating pork - just like the others. Now it was just a matter of narrowing down the type of poison, and how the poison may its way into the meat. There had to be tampering somewhere down the line.

[deductivedoctor]

"Very reassuring," John said.

Police surrounded the building within minutes. They roped off the area with tape, uniformly lining up all the staff and guests for questioning. Lestrade showed his face not long after. He checked in with a few of hia men before recognizing Sherlock and John in the center of thee room. Extending a courteous nod to a few police he had been chatting with, he excused himself, making his way over.

"So you think it's the supplier? Any leads beyond that?" Lestrade pressed. "We've got a
few bodies you could look at. Same story with each of them, though. Seems to be quite a cocktail this guy's mixed up. We've identified at least three different poisons already."

[deductivedetective]

Sherlock gave a curt nod to Lestrade in greeting.

"No, had it been the supplier half of London would be dropping dead. It's gotta be somewhere along the line. That's why I suspect the deliverymen, and what lead me here.

"And yes, I'd like to see the other victims if possible. And get me samples of all the poisons."

[deductivedoctor]

"Best you hurry down. And no tampering with the bodies," Lestrade said, scribbling a few notes down on a clipboard. "That's evidence."

"I guess we'll be off then," John sighed out. So much for dinner. He wasn't exactly disappointed that a case had decided to rear its head. Far from it, in fact. The means that Sherlock had introduced him to this particular case, however, was questionable. And he was still hungry.

[deductivedetective]

The corners of Sherlock's mouth lifted in the telltale excitement of a case to crack.

"No time to waste. We should also check on this delivery center," he said, handing John and Lestrade two business cards. 'The Southbay Delivery Boys.'

[deductivedoctor]

Despite having four bodies lined up in front of him at the morgue, and the fact that seeing a murder would destroy the appetite of most men, John seemed to have no problem eating the burger he'd picked up along the way. And although all their victims had fallen to various meat-related poisonings, John felt considerably safe because he reasoned that fast food wasn't really made of real meat at all. He watched Sherlock inspect the bodies, answering questions when he was needed and confirming symptoms when asked about the poisons.

Molly, who observed them from the lab table, had offered them some information and some paperwork-- as well as a polite "You're not allowed to have food in here, you know," Which John had just nodded along with and ignored.