Jim was always one for surprises, whether they be dangerous or not. Sometimes he would surprise Sebastian with a new gun, or Sherlock with a new case. He would shock the government by breaking into a highly protected building, and leaving a little note simply saying hello. If he was feeling in a better mood than usual, he would surprise Sherlock with a nice dinner or night out, though Sherlock was one to stay inside and work on recent cases which may are may not have been set up by the consulting criminal.
Luckily for Sherlock, tonight Jim was feeling more chipper than usual, and decided to take out the detective for an elegant, warm dinner. He had picked him up in a dark, expensive looking car around sundown, Sherlock having to only pull on his coat and tighten his scarf around his neck before he called out to John that he was going out for a while, already halfway down the stairs when the doctor asked where he was going.
The ride on the way to the restaurant was mostly silent, but it wasn't anything usual for the two. Sherlock glanced over at Jim here and there, in which Jim flashed a smirk back and even winked one time, making Sherlock shift in his seat and turn his eyes forward once again.
It wasn't long till they arrived at the restaurant, which was still in town near 221B. Sherlock could simply walk back to his flat if he wanted to. But of course, he stuck around and even took Jim's hand as he helped him out of the car, pulling his hand back and dusting off his coat out of habit.
They made their way into the restaurant, the chill from the outside weather ebbing way as they were encased in warmth. Sherlock sighed as he accustomed to the warmth, pulling off his jacket and his worn scarf, draping them both over his left arm and holding it up to his midsection. Jim couldn't help but watch as the detective pulled off his scarf, loving how the shirt underneath was, as usual, too tight and strained against the man's chest and stomach; the collar dipping to show his defined neck and dip of his collar bones.
"Sir, if you want to, the coat rack is over there near the door. You may hang up your coat there, if you please." The man behind the front counter spoke up, a kind, feminine edge to his voice.
"Thank you." Sherlock responded, doing as suggested and going over to the coat rack, draping his woolen coat and scarf around one of the open spots; back next to the consulting criminal in less than a minute.
"Table for two, please." Jim chirped, his hands buried in his pockets and lips curved up into that natural smirk.
"Of course, sir—please, follow me." The waiter nodded, grabbing two menus before taking off into the restaurant, the lights dim and candles illuminating couples' faces as they sat and flirted at their tables. Everyone wore elegant dresses and suits without even a crinkle in the fabric; no ties crooked nor any lipstick smeared and mucked up.
The two men were placed at a medium sized booth near the wall, somewhat out of the way of the other customers. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at this, though he held his tongue and sat down; one leg crossed over the other, watching as the waiter placed the menus in front of them.
"Is there anything you'd like to drink?" The man asked, pulling out a small notepad and pen seemingly from mid-air.
"Water." Sherlock simply stated, keeping his posture.
"Whiskey for me, please." Jim nodded, leaning back in his seat as he idly looked over his menu that was placed in front of him.
"I'll be back soon, you two look over the menu and figure out what you want." And with that, the waiter was off, leaving the two men pretty much alone in the back of the restaurant. Their surroundings were maroon-colored and soft, the only light illuminating the two men's faces the candle on the table and the dim lights hanging from the ceiling placed around carefully to distribute just enough light to the correct places. Even though they were in a public place, there was a feeling of intimacy strung between them.
"You look ravishing tonight, my dear." Jim crooned, his eyes traveling over Sherlock's broad shoulders and the skin revealed on his neck, able to see the detective's sharp collar bones and the dip of his neck that he would willingly shower with sharp nips and rough kisses. But right now he couldn't do that, since they were in public. Usually that didn't stop the man, but he would save that kind of intimacy for when both of them were completely alone.
Sherlock reacted to compliments and such as he usually did, narrowing his eyes. Though there was a slight smirk pulling at the side of his bow lips, showing that he enjoyed this sort of attention from the dangerous man.
"As do you." Sherlock's voice was a low baritone that hit Jim deep in the chest. Oh, how he loved listening to the man talk. He could sit and listen for hours if he had the opportunity to. Jim hummed in response.
"Sherlock," Jim started, looking the other man right in the eye. The world around them seemed to cease to exist at the moment as they deduced (and seduced, in that matter) each other; Sherlock's eyes still narrowed in suspicion. "I have something for you."
Sherlock looked partially surprised, though he knew that Jim had something for him. He saw the man toying with something cube-shaped in his pocket as they traveled to the restaurant and escorted to their table. It was definitely a piece of jewelry, which Sherlock found odd since he wasn't one to wear things of the like. He did admit to having certain tastes in certain situations, but in everyday life, he had sort of a uniform. Tight dress shirt, dress pants, polished shoes, and his woolen coat and scarf.
"What is it?" Sherlock asked, though he had an idea of what it was already. He just wanted to hear it from the criminal's lips in his voice directly.
"Ah, ah, ah." Jim wagged one finger in the air before his free hand rested on the table in front of him. "Patience, Sherly." The detective grumbled to himself as if he was a child, though he held his tongue.
"Hold out your hand. Palm down."
Sherlock did as told, holding out his hand and showing off his slender, pianist fingers and neatly trimmed nails.
"Eyes closed."
He closed his eyes.
He could hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of a small fabric covered box opening, his ears straining at the sound and trying to deduce with his eyes closed. He didn't have to wait long to find out what the surprise was, because he felt the cold kiss of metal against his ring finger, circling the digit and being pushed down until it rested perfectly on him.
"Open." Jim's voice was nearly a whisper. Sherlock could hear the smugness in his tone.
When he opened his eyes, he saw what he expected—a ring. Of course he knew it was a ring, but he was surprised by the look of it. It was a circular piece of smooth metal, all round edges and shine. There was a few deep-blue crystals embedded in the ring, shining off the dim lighting around them. Sherlock didn't usually enjoy surprises or presents. Only if it was a brand new case that was tough to sift through would he be grinning and pulling on his jacket in no time, bounding out the door and on his way to the crime scene.
"Do you like it, honey?" Jim asked, breaking the comfortable silence that fell over them.
"…Yes. Yes, It's…attractive." Sherlock didn't know quite how to word his response. "It fits like a glove."
"Of course." Jim nodded. "Custom made. Just for my Sherly." He had a loving edge to his voice, though it still held that threatening tone. It was if he was talking to a little kid, crooning at them and speaking in ridiculous voices to amuse them.
"What does this mean, then?" Sherlock suddenly spoke. "Are you…proposing?" His eyes narrowed even more if it was possible, looking Jim right in the eye; his hand garnished with the ring lowering down to the table to rest there gently.
"Oh, no, no." Jim shook his head. "Just a little gift from me to you. Can't I get my good little boy presents now and then?" He chuckled, still lounging slightly in his seat. Sherlock shifted a bit, swallowing thickly at the words the man chose. "You've been in good behavior lately, and that's your reward." He didn't say how he wanted John to notice and get jealous, to bombard the detective with questions and demanding answers. But Sherlock seemed to read that in Jim's mannerisms and clever eyes.
"Ah, yes, yes." Sherlock looked down at the ring once more, admiring the way light danced over the deep, navy blue crystals and blended into the light colored metal. The metal was no longer cold, warmed by Sherlock's body heat. "Thank you."
Jim raised his eyebrow once more, humming as if he expected something more.
"Thank you, Daddy." Sherlock couldn't help the light dusting of blush that rose to his pale cheeks.
"Good boy." Jim purred. "Keep behaving well, and you'll get more rewards just like that."
Sherlock nodded, feeling belittled and warm under Jim's gaze.
It was then that the waiter chose to come back, and as they ordered their food and got their drinks, Jim felt content. Sherlock couldn't stop staring at the ring, but he still spoke up when the man asked him what he would like to order. After scribbling in his notepad, he was gone as fast as he arrived.
"Oh, I'm going to spoil you, honey." Jim couldn't help but hum, his smirk widening.
