It was a cold night in London. John and Sherlock were preparing to go out.
"Sherlock?" John called up the stairs. John was standing at the entrance to the flat waiting for Sherlock who had been getting ready for what felt like hours. "What's taking you so long?"
"I'm perfecting my disguise. I hope you are doing the same"
John looked in the mirror. He was wearing a white shirt, a gray suit (slightly too big for him), maching gray trousers and waistcoat, a pale blue tie and black leather shoes. In his own opinion, he thourght the grey (as Mrs Hudson would say) drained him but this was what Sherlock had asked him to wear so this was what he was going to wear. Sherlock was involved in a case and insisted upon attending some posh party. "Sherlock?"
"Yes?" Sherlock was stood right behind John. John jumped slightly, surprised.
"How did you get there?" John asked turning to face Sherlock.
"I walked? You can be very unobservant sometimes John" He said smiling as he picked up his black bag (Containing all his nescesarry gear) and his coat.
"Cabs waiting" John said and followed Sherlock out of the door. When they were sat in the taxi, on their way to the party John looked over at Sherlock. Sherlock was wearing a white shirt too, he had a black suit similar to his usual everyday wear, close fitting to his chest. He was also wearing a similar gray waistcoat bringing out his gray eyes, it was tighter than John's. He had long black trousers, reaching down to his shoes and he was also wearing a black bowtie which he was tugging at, odviostly uncomfortable for him as he usually wore his shirts without a tie and at least two buttons undone. His skin looked paler than usual, Sherlock had put make-up on his skin to cover up all the little grazes and scratches that he had accuired while running around London. John could'nt help notice the beautiful contrast between his pale skin, his dark curls, his gray eyes, his black suit. Sherlock had always been a man of extremes. It was quite common that he would chase someone through the busy streets of London non-stop for long periods of time and then collapse on the sofa in Baker Street and refuse to move. He would just lay there and ask John to pass him things ever so often.
No I can't get distracted by how gorgeous Sherlock looks tonight. He is relying on me to help him.
John shook the thourght out of his head and looked back over to Sherlock who was giving him a questioning look. Then his eyes widened slightly and he reached into his bag and drew out two roses. He tucked one into his own jacket and then reached across the cab to place the other one in John's. John caught his breath as Sherlock leaned closer to him, his long slender fingers adjusted the flower in the pocket.
"Trust me, everyone will have one"
Sherlock looked up at his face and sighed.
"You cant go in looking like that" he said. He lifted his hand to Johns face and brushed away a speck of dirt from his cheek.
"Are you ok John? You seem very hot. You could always go back to the flat if you don't want to do this"
"Nonsense" John said, forcing a smile, his voice was shaking slightly. Sherlock was still leaning in towards John's face, his worried eyes staring into John's. John glanced away, embarassed.
"Good... Thank you" Sherlock said, sitting back in his own seat again. John looked out of the window, determined to divert his thourghts for the rest of the journey.
They had almost reached the house
"Stop here" Sherlock said to the driver. "Right John, we will have to walk to the house. A cab pulling up outside might look a bit suspicious. Do you remember the plan?"
John nodded.
"Here is your invite, Mycroft got them for me"
"Ta" John said and reached for the door.
"Wait" Sherlock said as he grabbed John's wrist, pulling him back slightly. John looked down at his hand. Sherlock's long fingers were holding his wrist gently. John was very tanned compared to Sherlock, something he had'nt noticed before. He looked back up to Sherlock's face.
"Take this, don't use it unless you have to" He handed John an identity card out of his bag.
"Anderson?" John asked.
"Well it was either that or Miss Donovan, I am Lestrade. Be careful to remember them."
"Right ok"
"Lets go then" Sherlock said, reaching over and handing the cabbie a handful of change. John watched as 'Lestrade' stepped out of the car, he took one graceful stride and turned around to peer back inside.
"Are you coming?" He asked.
"Yeah, sorry"
This is going to be a long night if I keep having these thoughts about Sherlock.
John tried to keep his distance from Sherlock as they walked up the gravel drive. The house was huge and as Sherlock had said, everyone was wearing similar clothes to themselves. There invites were accepted and they walked inside. There were women wearing long dresses, their hair tied up in complicated styles. There was a full orchestra sat at the far end of the hall. There was a huge glass chandalier hanging from the celing and a huge marble staircase reaching up to the floor above. There were people up there to, milling around and socialising. John watched as Sherlock was enveloped by the waves of people. His head was heald high and he was taking long steps, scanning the crowd.
Quite short, not too fat, thick rimmed glasses and short grayish hair.
John had been given specific instructions by Sherlock. If he was to see a man fitting this description. Had to text Sherlock. John glanced around the room again, just in time to see Sherlock disapearing out of the door.
"Champagne?" A man asked his from behind.
"Thank you" John said, taking a glass from the silver tray. John walked around the room, slowly, trying not to look to suspicious. The man was a murderer, Sherlock had been tracing him for weeks and he had found him, supposedly attending the party that night. Sherlock's theory had been seconded by his elder brother so John had high hopes in finding him. John had allowed Sherlock to take his gun, Sherlock had promised not to kill anyone, only threaten them if it was really neccesary. John felt a bit awkward walking round on his own, everyone else knew each other.
I want to be with Sherlock again, safe back in the flat, not walking around some strange mansion with a murderer in it.
At this thourght John looked down at his drink and carefully put it on a nearby shelf.
The quicker we can find this man, the quicker we can get back to Baker Street.
John decided to look for the toilets, at least that way he could hide from everyone while he made sure his outfit blended in ok.
The murderer could always be in the loo's.
John started to make his way across the floor when there came a screech from the room next door. John and practically everyone else in the room turned and started making their way towards the door but John was fast enough to get there before everyone else. There on the floor was a man, the man John had been looking for lying on his stomach on the floor. Blood was pouring from his nose and his glasses had ended up a good meter away from his face. Sherlock was straddling the man's back, holding his arms down.
"Anderson?" Sherlock shouted, not looking away from the man. It took John a few seconds to process the name before he ran towards Sherlock.
"Wait" A large man put his arm in front of John, blocking his path "Are you the police?" He asked.
"Yes" John said, he drew the card out of his pocket and flashed it at the man. He pinned the man down while Sherlock drew a pair of handcuffs out of his bag and cuffed the man.
"I arrest you for the murder of Leon Starr, James Lennon and Greg Mercury and attempted murder of Paul Marine" Sherlock said. John pulled out his phone and called the real Lestrade.
"We've got your killer. Number one Matthew Street. Please be quick!"
Then he helped Sherlock hold the man down who was still struggling. John looked at Sherlock, his head was bowed, looking down at the man and he had curls covering some of his eyes. He was breathing heavily and he had more colour in his cheeks. He looked up at John and smiled, chuckling quietly to himself before turning his gaze back to the killer. Lestrade arrived shortly and took the man back to the police station, insisting that he needed to speak to them in the morning.
John and Sherlock walked outside, no longer welcome in the house after causing such a drama. Sherlock called a taxi.
"It's going to take a while to come, its late and there are few on duty." He said.
"Oh" John replied "It's a cold night"
"Yes" Sherlock said "Your shivering. Did you forget your coat?" He asked.
"Yes, I did. I'm fine though"
"Take my coat" Sherlock said.
"No, you'll get cold"
"I've got a better idea" Sherlock said. John gave him a questioning look. Sherlock walked up to him and wrapped his coat around both of them, his arms pulling John closer. John looked up.
"Is this ok?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh yes" John replied "More than ok"
Sherlock pulled John around so that their chests were pushed together. He leaned down until their foreheads were pressed together.
"Did you know?" John asked.
"I didn't know, I suspected" Sherlock said, leaning closer. John pushed up and caught his lips on Sherlock's who dropped his head further down, making it more comfortable for John to kiss him. John tilted his head slightly to find the perfect angle. This was more wonderful than he had ever dreamed. He closed his eyes and let the kiss deepen, forgetting everything around him but Sherlock. Sherlock pulled away suddenly and smiled at John.
"Taxi's here" He said.
"Wait a sec" John said and pointed to the bag slung over Sherlock's shoulder. "Is that my coat?"
"It is your coat John, but I decided that you didn't need it" Sherlock said. John smiled at him and shook his head slightly. "Lets get back"
They walked to the cab, hand in hand. Sherlock sat close to John and pulled the coat around him, holding him close all the way back to the flat.