Summary: Sherlock and John are celebrating their anniversary at Angelo's when Lestrade needs their help. Cue clueless Sherlock to invite the team to dinner with them.
Rated: T...cuz it's my default rating, I guess.
This is a request from power0girl. The entire time I read the request I was saying out loud "this is good. Oh, this is good!" so it had to be written XD Thanks so much for reading my stories, chica, and I hope you enjoy the end product :)
Angelo's, perhaps, wasn't the nicest place to have a romantic dinner in celebration of their anniversary, but John figured that since it was only six months they could keep things a bit more casual. It was the one year he was worried about. Sherlock barely ate as it was, and when he did he was incredibly picky. John had already started checking out restaurants to reserve a table.
As it was, the younger man had picked at his food for a few minutes, then pushed it away and scooted down the booth to sit closer to John. Angelo's was pretty empty that night, and John suspected Sherlock had something to do with that. He smiled as the younger man crossed his legs and pressed his knee to John's. John reached out, pulled Sherlock's plate to him, and held the fork in front of his face.
"Seriously, John, I'm not very-"
"Eat. It's our anniversary; I won't have you passing out later from hunger. That would really put me off." John hid his grin as Sherlock sighed and took the fork, stabbing his pasta. He took a big, exaggerated bite before placing his fork down again and turning to his lover.
"Happy?"
"Almost," John smirked. The man rolled his eyes but smiled fondly at John.
John felt his cellphone buzz, signaling a text message, and cringed. He knew he should have turned the alert off. He turned and pulled his phone out, groaning when he saw what it said.
From: G. Lestrade
Did you get my text?
John rolled his eyes and texted a quick 'yes' back to him. He pushed his phone back in his pocket too soon, because mere seconds later he received another. Sherlock was glancing at him with amusement; he enjoyed John's annoyance more than he should.
From: G. Lestrade
Well...You didn't text me back.
To: G. Lestrade
Kinda busy right now, Greg.
With that, he switched the alerts off and put his phone away, smiling as Sherlock placed his hand on his leg softly. He sipped at his tea, listened to the music that was playing over the speakers, soft and lovely, and thought about how perfect this night was.
"It's not even over yet," Sherlock muttered. His forehead rested on the side of John's head and his lips brushed lightly against his cheek.
"Are you reading my mind again?"
"Hardly. The power of deduction, my dear Watson. You had that look in your eyes..."
John pulled Sherlock closer, his hand wrapped around the taller man's waist. Their food lay forgotten in front of them as they stared at each other, wishing to convey so many emotions without a single word.
"Don't answer that," John said quickly as he heard Sherlock's phone start ringing.
"Why not?"
"Because it's Lestrade."
Sherlock raised his eyebrow at John and reached for his phone, answered it despite John shaking his head.
"What do you need?" John rolled his eyes and went back to his food.
"I can't, I'm having dinner with John...No, this is important...I can't just leave, Lestrade...Then you'll have to come here, won't you?"
John's head snapped up, eyes wide, shaking his head slightly at Sherlock. Did he just invite the team to eat with them? Was he mad? Alright, that was a dumb question. He's Sherlock Holmes, of course he's mad! But this was ridiculous, even for him.
"See you soon, then." Sherlock ended the call and looked over at John, surprised by the angry set of his mouth. "What did I do?"
"Did you just invite them to come here on our anniversary date?" John talked slowly, trying to keep most of the venom out of his voice. He could see Sherlock back off just a bit; he may be fearless in many aspects of life, but he'd been on John's bad side before, and he didn't particularly enjoy sleeping on the couch for a week straight.
"They'll be gone before you know it, love." Sherlock touched his face softly and John sighed, leaning into the touch.
"Oh, gross, get a room," a female voice spat out. They both jumped and pulled away, turning to see Sally Donovan standing by the door, arms folded, looking disturbed.
"You're welcome to wait outside if you'd like, Sally," John said. He was already annoyed by their presence.
"No thanks." She sat herself down in a chair across from the table and stared at them. "Dinner with the freak, eh?"
"Sally, will you give it a rest for one night?" Lestrade strode in, Anderson behind him, and one other man John was unfamiliar with. He was fairly young, in his mid-twenties at most, with dark brown hair and green eyes. He smiled and nodded at the two men seated in the booth and leaned against the wall next to Sherlock. John was slightly annoyed when he kept giving Sherlock sultry smiles. He hadn't anticipated anyone hitting on his man on their anniversary.
"Alright, I'll cut to the chase so we can be out of here as soon as possible. Remember that foreign smuggling company with the excellent hit man? Well, you were right; they've started up business again. They found someone better to take people out, and those symbols are showing up again."
"How very predictable," Sherlock muttered. John grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed it lightly.
"Do you think you could come by the Yard tomorrow, check out the evidence and do your thing?"
"Why can't you? It is, after all, your thing." Sherlock smiled falsely at the Inspector.
"Because you want to do this. Come on Sherlock, we all know you get off on it." John was expecting Sally to say something rude to Sherlock. What he wasn't anticipating was Sherlock's response.
"Actually, no, I'm pretty sure I get off on John. Your deductive skills need some serious work if you couldn't figure that out."
Anderson groaned, Lestrade tried to hide his smile, and the random man against the wall suddenly looked very jealous. Sally was staring at Sherlock in shock, and John twitched in his seat.
"On that delightfully awkward note, perhaps we should be going now?" he asked Sherlock. The other man looking confused.
"But you haven't finished your dinner," he commented.
"Oh, I think I've had all I can take for one night," the man said with a sarcastic smile.
"Have we interrupted something special?" Anderson said, his tone patronizing.
"Yes, our anniversary." John watched with amusement as Lestrade's eyes grew wide.
"Sherlock! Why did you answer your phone if it's your anniversary dinner?"
"It rang," he answered, his tone suggesting he was talking to a small child.
"That does not mean you answer it. Come on!" John pushed his plate away and stood up, nodding to the team and storming out. He wasn't at all happy with the way his night turned out.
"Crap...he's mad at me." Sherlock pushed himself out from behind the booth and slipped his coat on, grabbing John's forgotten coat off the back of the booth.
"Someone's sleeping on the couch tonight," Lestrade sang, fighting back laughter. Sherlock rolled his eyes and left, barely managing to slip into the cab John was in before it pulled away. It was clear that John hadn't exactly intended for Sherlock to be in that cab.
"Oh yeah, he's definitely sleeping on the couch tonight."
Yay, it's finished! So yeah, I'm currently taking requests because Sherlock is eating up my life at the moment! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed :)
