It All Started For a Case - a Johnlock oneshot

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are not mine.

Inspirations:

"Sherlock, I had to buy this bloody tux. I'm not even going to ask your opinion."

. /tumblr_m6q9buP7yy1rvozloo1_

Words: 2512 words.

Please let me know what you think! What you like, didn't like. Things I can improve on.

It was a case that required them to pose as wealthy, high class restaurants reviewers. John was at first pleased at this, why not? Good food. Half the price and Sherlock would have to eat at least something to keep up the pretense. What not to like?

Then Sherlock sprung the catch, "John, you're going to have to dress up more then your usual formal ware."

John sighed and glared, he should have known it was too good to be true. Sherlock glared back and John knew he would be getting a suit.

"We will go shopping for proper attire for you tomorrow. I know a guy, get all my clothes from hi-"

"No." John cut him off. "No, Sherlock. I will not be going suit shopping with you. I can get my own clothes thank you."

"Don't be preposterous, John. You don't know what to look for, what is a good quality, what will hold, what the current fashions are and what designers to avoid. Of course I'm taking you."

John crossed his arms and looked at him with a stubbornness learned in the military. It was a look that said, 'No. You are wrong. I know better then you and you will listen to me.'

Sherlock relented. "Fine. But you have to let me okay it before we leave."

John nodded, it's not like he could get out of the without Sherlock seeing, he'd just put it off until the last second so Sherlock would have less time to insult him before they reached the restaurant.

And really, that's what it was all about wasn't it? He didn't mind his stature or his looks. Enough women found him attractive and he could get a date easily enough with a smile and witty, (at least to everyone except Sherlock), remark. But he hated it when Sherlock commented on his looks or height. Good coat and short friend indeed.

Well now was a chance to prove Sherlock that he could pull off a suit just as well as he could. And god damn it if he didn't get just as many appreciative stares as the detective when they went out.

Contrary to what Sherlock believed John did know how to dress up formal. He just never had the energy and then never had the chance to replenish his closet when he was home. He had very little desire to as well.

But now that he had too he might as well pull out all the stops.

He knew the type of suit that would flatter him. He had a hardly used pair of dress shoes at the bottom of him dresser and he dropped them off at the shoe repair and cleaners on his way to the store.

The bell dinged as he walked into the posh store, earning several distasteful glances as the employs and shoppers took in his old, lumpy and worn oatmeal jumper.

He walked up the the desk.

"Hello...sir. How can I help? Are you lost?"

John smiled with forced politeness. "No, actually I'm not. I'm here for a Mr. Brandson."

She looked her nose at him. "I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Brandson does not come help just any one."

John smirked, something he had not done in a while. "Just tell him that Dr. Watson is here. As he requested."

She sighed and consented, speaking into the radio at her shoulder. "Someone tell Bill that a Dr. Watson is here to see him."

John waited with a cocked ear. He heard some shouts and then running feet. "Doc!"

John turned and smiled at the man. "B-boy." They stared at each other for a few second before they both laughed and hugged.

"Man, John. It sure is good to see you! I've been reading your blog and phew! Is everything true?"

"Good to see you too, mate. Glad to see you walking without a limp. And yes. Everything is true. We're working on a case right now, actually. That's why I'm here."

"Thanks to you I'm not. Of course. Always with a purpose is you. That's the Capt. Watson I know."

The desk clerk was staring at them, forgotten.

"Right. Well. I need a suit. In fashion but also classic. Something that I can move in in case things get sticky."

Bill stood and appraised him. "Right." He was all business now. "You still the same size as you were back in the good ol' days?"

"Yes. Don't look it do I?"

"Good. I have the perfect thing. Come with me. You can try it one and be out of here in no time."

John nodded his thanks and followed him. Not 20 minutes later Bill and John were passing the snooty clerk.

"Thanks again Bill. Come by our flat when this is over and we can catch up."

"Sounds good, Doc."

"Good. So how much is this going to be?"

Bill looked like he had been punched. "Cost? It's on the house, John. After what you did. In fact, here." He reached behind a counter and pulled out a bag. The contents of which, when inspected by John, were several nice, high quality shirts and pants."

"They're all in your size. Take them, John. Without you I wouldn't even be here."

John clapped him on the shoulder. "You would have made it without me, B-boy."

"I would have had a limp and a much longer revoc time."

John nodded, consenting to the gift. "But only if you come around this saturday for tea. I'll make sure Sherlock has the bigger experiments cleaned off of the table."

Bill laughed and nodded. He clapped John on the back one last time and ushered him to the door. When John was several steps out of the door he said quietly, "God bless you, whoever you are, who made that man whole."

John picked up his shoes and hurried back to the flat, smirking. He knew he was smirking. And he hadn't done so this much since his army days. He was chuckling to himself as we walked up the seventeen steps to home.

"Sherlock? I'm back. Yes, I got everything I need and yes they will suit your standards."

"I doubt that, John. I have very high standards." Sherlock said dryly from his perch on the couch.

"Thinking about the case?"

John called down from where he was hanging up his new suit and putting away the extra clothes that Bill had given him.

"hhhmmmmm"

"Right." John nodded and went to make them some tea. "Oh, Sherlock. Listen to me for a sec, yeah?"

Sherlock slowly opened his eyes in a glare.

"Good. An old friend is coming for tea on saturday and I was all acids and body parts away and off the table. If possible keep them out of the fridge."

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes again. "Army friend."

"Yes. Army mate. Good man."

The next morning John made tea and didn't make Sherlock eat anything. He didn't want to push the detective and make him not eat anything tonight just to spite him.

Their reservation was for five and at three John stood up and said, "Right. Well I'm off to take a shower then. Be ready to leave by four-thirty."

Sherlock looked up from his microscope and watched John go into the bathroom. He waited until he heard the water running before rushing up the stairs and looked in the closet.

"Le Monde-Men's Formal Ware." He read aloud from the black bag protecting John's suit. "How the hell did John afford Le Monde?"

"I didn't pay for it, that's how." John said from the doorway. Sherlock spun around.

"Army friend?" Sherlock questioned.

"Army friend." John didn't elaborate and Sherlock didn't budge. "I saved his life. Now please leave so I can get dressed, and you better go get ready as well."

John shook his head and Sherlock watched as a drop of water dripped from his hair onto his left shoulder, soaking through the thin cotton tea that he was wearing. Sherlock left the room.

John sighed and striped off his shirt and dried his dripping hair with it, tossing it on his bed when he reached his closet. He got dressed slowly, taking his time. He looked at himself in the mirror and nodded, satisfied. Bill did know his style.

He brushed his growing hair off the one side and rubbed his chin. He hadn't shaved in five days and the slightly ragged look worked surprisingly well with the rest of the suit. He look at his watch, 4:20.

He took a breath braced himself to face Sherlock. He slipped on his shoes and walked down the stairs. "Sherlock?" He called. "You ready to go?" He walked into the kitchen and poured himself the last of the luck-warm tea.

"Yes, John. Let's go." Sherlock called, already in the hallway. John grimaced to himself and readied himself for the insults that were sure to come he walked down the stairs and stood at the bottom, waiting for Sherlock to look up from his phone.

"Well?" He finally asked. "Do I get the Great Sherlock Holmes approval?" Sarcasm was evident.

Sherlock looked up with was snarky comment but it died when he looked at John.

He was standing with his hands behind his back and the right leg crossed in front of his left. He was wearing a tan wide-spaced pin-striped suit coat paired with the same colour tan dress pants, minus the strips. With that was a pair of almost new black shoes and a tight black button up shirt with glaring white buttons. The shirt was buttoned up all the way but it worked for John.

Sherlock relized he was staring and willed his body not to blush, he knew he didn't succeed when John looked down with a slight tinge to his cheeks as well. Sherlock cleared his throat. "Good. That's…you….That will suffice." He swallowed, turned on his heel and rushed out the door.

John smirked after him, he knew he looked good but to make Sherlock Holmes blush was a higher compliment then he could have hoped for.

Sherlock, meanwhile, was having a minor panic attack. That….I never thought that John could look like that. I mean I know that he's attractive, no matter how many times I pushed the thought from my mind and tried to delete it. He is attractive but in that, with that suit that squared his shoulders even more and tailors his waist….I wonder what it would be like to take that suit off of him, I wonder how tight that shirt it. If it shows off the chest and abs that he must have after the army and running with me.

NO! Focus, Sherlock. Case. Focus on the case. Not on John. Not on how….sexy (double check-proper word context. . . .word context correct and accurate, continue) he looks in those clothes.

"Sherlock?" John's voice lifted him out of his mind. "We're here." They got out of the cab and John turned to Sherlock, straightening out his jacket. "How do I look?"

Sherlock stared at him, eyes flicking up and down his body several times more then necessary. "Good. Very….good." He said, voice slightly lower then usual.

John raised an eye brow. "Good. Thanks, I guess. So do you. You'll have the eye of every person in there." He reached up and straightened Sherlock's lapels, patting them down before turning and walking confidently into the five star food establishment.

Sherlock reached up and touched the place where John's hands were. He cursed and followed John into the restaurant, what am I going to do about this?

Do I love John? Of course I care about him. He's my best friend, my only friend. And he obviously cares about me. And I know I find him attractive, he does too. He said I looked good and I didn't dress much differently then I usually do.

But love? I didn't know I was capable of loving someone. But then again I never knew someone like John. John….John is special, I care about him. I probably love him. But does he feel the same? Well, let's find out.

Sherlock ran to catch up with John, who was talking with the waiter. The waiter was giving John sideways looks and as she lead them to their table people stared at the two very attractive men walking amongst them. John has an easy smile on his face and Sherlock glowered at anyone who looked at John anymore than a passing glance. Sherlock was glowering at the entire restaurant. John elbowed him in the stomach.

"Stop that. So who are we looking for?"

Sherlock began glaring less obviously and to make up for it reach out and took John's hand, making it clear that he was spoken for. A table of single ladies sighed, disappointed and went back to their meal.

Sherlock smiled with triumph and didn't notice that John was smirking at him. When they got to their table John let go of Sherlock's hand and pulled out a chair for him with a teasing smile.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Really, John?" But accepted the seat and watched at John sat down and ordered two glasses of Italian tea.

"So what was that, Sherlock."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Sherlock, it really doesn't work."

Sherlock cleared his throat and fiddled with the table cloth. "Everyone was staring at you. I wanted them to know that you were….unavailable."

John raised his eyebrows. "And am I unavailable? I don't currently have a girlfriend and it's not like I would go out with them tonight. We have a case."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, you are unavailable. You're my blogger."

John reached across the table and took Sherlock's hand. "And you're my detective. Now I take it the guy we're looking for isn't here?"

"No." He had known that the instant he had walked through the doors.

"Good. So I won't worry about having to pull my gun in here and we can enjoy our dinner. You will eat something, Sherlock. Don't give me that look, you will. Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while."

John smirked and winked. It was very reminiscent of when they first met.

Sherlock quipped back quickly. "You had better."

Things went well that first night. They didn't have sex but they did sleep in the same bed after some rigorous kissing. John eventually made Sherlock sit down and they talked about their relationship and what they were now. (Partners, John. You are my partner.) How they would introduce each other to people. (You're My Sherlock. And I'm Your John.) And if they were ready for sex with each other. ("I'm not a virgin, John. Despite what my brother wants people to believe." They were and stayed up late that night.)

They still argued. Still solved crimes. Everything was the same, except it wasn't.

"I love you, John."

"I love you too, Sherlock."

Sooooo? What did you think? Just a quick thing with little editing. Hope you enjoyed it, or it made you smile at least!

Love you for reading and reviewing!

-JC