This is set in a S3 which Mary is not a part of. Just a bit of fluff, hope someone likes it! Reviews are appreciated. I might make a series of Johnlock one-shots, let me know what you think.
John's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket to find a text from Sherlock (of course).
Need help, come to the flat at 14:00 –SH
John sighed. It was 12:30 now, he had about an hour left at the clinic because he had taken the early morning shift. How Sherlock knew this was beyond him. He typed a response and put his phone down on the desk to continue working on the medical records he had been reviewing.
What do you need help with? –JW
It didn't take long before there was a reply.
Going on a date, I haven't got anything to wear. You're good with women, right? –SH
John read the text over and went to hit reply before doing a double take. Sherlock? A date? John just sat there for a moment, completely baffled.
Sure, why? –JW
We're going shopping, you're helping me find something –SH
John was left to wonder who had replaced Sherlock's brain with a teenage girl's while he finished up at the clinic. As he got off the Tube at the station nearest Baker Street, he felt an odd twinge in his gut. Uneasiness, perhaps? It was a bit like the way he had felt when Irene Adler had convinced Sherlock to decode that email those years ago. It was a strange feeling, a strong one that John wasn't used to.
John let himself into 221B and found Sherlock just putting his coat on. 'Ah, John! Let's go,' he said, and John turned around and followed Sherlock back outside. Sherlock hailed a cab and they both climbed in.
'So… a date,' John said, glancing at his friend.
'Yes,' Sherlock said. He was staring out the window.
'Care to elaborate?' John asked.
'What more is there to say?' Sherlock shot back.
'Well, who are you going with? Where are you going?' John asked.
Sherlock gave John a sideways smile. 'You'll see,' he said.
They got out of the cab at the mall and walked in through the automatic doors. 'Which shops do you recommend?' Sherlock asked, looking around.
'I dunno, what are you looking for? Where are you going?' John repeated his previous question.
'I was thinking of a nice little outdoor café, perhaps the cinema?' Sherlock said.
'You hate the cinema,' John replied.
Sherlock smiled. 'I can make exceptions.'
'Don't spoil the ending for her though,' John said.
'How about here?' was Sherlock's reply as he walked into a men's clothing store. He wandered among the racks for a few minutes, shuffling through hangers and occasionally holding something up in a mirror. John went over to look at a rack of hats.
Suddenly Sherlock was at his side, picking up a black fedora from the hatrack. He went over to a mirror and pulled the hat on. 'What do you think of this one?' he asked, looking over his shoulder at John in the mirror.
John was only a little speechless. The hat was perfect – Sherlock looked distinguished and elegant. It was as though the hat was made for him. John realised his mouth was open and quickly shut it.
He wasn't fast enough though. A smirk made its way onto Sherlock's face. John blinked and in that moment, Sherlock was standing quite close to him. John tried to ignore the way his heart stopped for a second, then started up again at twice the speed. Words failed him.
'Well?' Sherlock said. 'If I were to guess, I would venture to say you like it.'
That hat was not helping John's tongue untie itself any faster; in fact it seemed to tie the knots into impossible tangles. Even if John's tongue had allowed him to speak, he doubted he would have been able to find any words to say. His brain seemed to have shut down. There was just one thought running through it over and over again: What is going on?
John felt Sherlock's hand on his own. Finally his throat seemed to unstick. 'Don't you have a date?' he managed.
'I didn't say with who,' Sherlock said, with a crooked smile.
And then John's brain turned completely to mush.
Sherlock was kissing him. Right there among the clothing racks. And John kissed him right back.
When they surfaced, Sherlock's pale cheeks were pink. 'Buy it,' was all John could say.
As they walked out of the shop, Sherlock laced his fingers through John's. John had never been one for public displays of affection, but this just felt right. They sat down on a bench outside to wait for a cab. 'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,' Sherlock said.
John laughed. 'Oh yes I do.'
'Since the first day we met,' they said together, and then looked at each other. They started to laugh.
John wiped his eyes and asked, 'So was that your goal with this?'
Sherlock's mischeivious smirk returned. 'It was an experiment.'