A Study In Double Dating
Chapter 1: Detective's Best Friend.
It had to be a woman. Obviously.
New Scotland's Yard had a new intern for the day, and it just had to be a woman. Commonly, it wouldn't really matter to Sherlock one way or the other, if it wasn't for the fact that said woman had not ceased flirting with a certain doctor, and she was taking his attention away from a certain detective. How was Sherlock supposed to amaze John with his incredible wit and fascinating intellect if he didn't even had the ability to hold his blogger's admiration for a minute?
The brunette finished rambling on his deductions, not even sparing a breath of silence for the rest of the Yard to catch up. As soon as he was done explaining exactly how a math teacher had managed to completely exsanguinate his wife's new paramour with just a set of tweezers, he went to stand beside John, catching the final half of a conversation to which he hadn't been eavesdropping since the beginning.
"Perhaps you could accompany me." A lock of honey-blonde hair was twirling around her slender finger in a flirtatious way; and judging by the state of her nails she was only looking for a man focused and stable enough to appease her mother's insistence in her settling down. Probably inviting him to a high profile social event involving dinner and some sort of publicity stunt. Easy to get your picture taken and then have proof to show your family next time they come visit from the country. It was painfully obvious.
He decided he could spare his friend the tediousness of the date, and the embarrassment of declining. Honestly, people could be so stupid at not saying "no" just to not seem rude. "John is obviously not going to want-" However, he was interrupted before he could finish his sentence.
"It would be my pleasure." John answered using that tone of voice he always partook while trying to woo a lady. Why in the world would John want to spend an evening dining among some pretentious dim-witted aristocrats?
"I was invited due to my dancing, and I need a plus one." That's right, she was a part-time Jazz dancer with hopes of becoming something big in choreography after she finished her delayed dance studies at uni. A major and internship at something as criminology the only thing that could convince her mother of letting her pursue something as "ridiculous" as dancing for money once she had graduated.
"Are you talking about the Gala of Talent hosted in Kensington?" Another member of the team, whose name had already been deleted from the detective's mind, asked in awe and the dancer giggled. "Mate, that's huge." He finished now turning to John.
"That sounds lovely." John asserted. Are these people really interested in all this? Because the idea didn't seem the least bit appealing to the boffin, who already had a case and the catching of a murderer scheduled. Which reminded him, John technically already had plans for the weekend, and if pursuing a maniac to stop him for killing more people wasn't a good excuse for calling off a date Sherlock didn't know what was.
The doctor must have remembered this at seeing the detective standing expectantly next to him, because after sighing he turned around and said. "Actually, I'm sorry but I think I'm going to have to pass," He started nervously. "Because of the case, and you know, Sherlock and I are partners."
After this, there was a pregnant silence passing through the whole crime scene as everyone took in what he had said. John, at first, didn't seem to grasp what got everyone so surprised, but a few seconds later his brain caught up with the situation and he shifted uncomfortably in his feet and rushed to minimise the damage done. "I mean, at- at crime solving. We solve crimes, like this. Like this case." Him stuttering did not make the situation less awkward, and the detective could only gloat in the fact that Lestrade seemed as relieved in the fact that John was going to be available to help solving the case as he was.
"Don't worry I understand," She gave a half smile and a strange look directed to Sherlock like it was all his fault. But it wasn't, John Watson preferred bringing a criminal behind bars than going out on a date which would have been boring anyway. That's just who John was. "Maybe after the case is done." You didn't need to be a consulting detective to deduce she was highly disappointed.
John swallowed thickly at the thought of having to turn down a lady in front of the whole team of Yarders. But he really shouldn't, she was a tedious woman after all, and they all were nosy idiots whose opinion shouldn't matter to John in the slight-less. Instead, he said, "Yes, maybe."
"Well, yes. We better wrap everything up." Lestrade said trying to ease the tension, and John seemed thankful for it. Which is completely irrational since he had nothing to be ashamed about. "We'll get this to the labs and you do whatever is it you do to figure out where the dirt came from." He said now addressing Sherlock. Couldn't he at least see that it had been from his own garden? Today's idiocy should be a record.
He only scoffed and turned around. "Come along, John. We have mud to examine." He walked away not bothering to wait and see if he was being followed. John would catch up, he always did. At the corner of his eye, he saw Jessika, the dancer, slip her number inside John's shirt breast pocket and ask him to call her once the case was over. Sherlock felt a distinct feeling at the gut of his stomach, but it obviously was just the thrill of the chase. After all, the game was on!