Thanks to all you guys who already set a story alert even though I haven't started properly yet. I hope I can live up to your expectations. Otherwise just throw something at me. Fruit and vegetable would be nice because all I have here at the moment is a big bowl of sweets and I really just can hope that I won't die from a sugar overdose before I get this chapter done.

There were 20 date ideas on the list, so this will have 21 chapters (including the prologue) and maybe a 22 that suddenly popped into my head when I was singing in the shower this morning. Unless you say it's all crap and that will be if you give me just bad reviews or none at all. Then I will stop. But let's hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Now and then I will steal some facts from Atlin Merrick's Minutiae, which I highly recommend you should all read as soon as you are done here. I hope you don't mind, Atlin. Tell me if you do and I stop stealing from you. Promise.


Go on a search for as many good climbing trees as possible, climb as high as you both can in all of them, compile photo evidence.

Fun, in Sherlock's mind, was inseparably connected with fear and danger and so it was no surprise that he agreed to John's plan to go tree climbing in Hampstead Heath for the first of their so called fun dates.

Sherlock was terribly afraid of heights and so this promised to be rather good fun and may be even more fun afterwards. Adrenalin rush being by far his favorite aphrodisiac of choice.

So Sherlock doesn't have any complaints to make when they leave for the park on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Bet on it that he not just didn't have any complaints but would turn this into some sort of competition. They had agreed to enter the park at Whitestone Pond and had to make it from there to Kenwood House within one hour during which they had to climb as many high trees they could manage and take photo prove in the treetop.

It was an eager task because walking the distance alone through the park, not on the road would take them at least 25 minutes so whoever would manage more trees would win.

Sherlock was very confident he would. After all his height would be an advantage because the really good and high trees wouldn't have branches near the ground but when he stretched his arms he could easily reach at least 7 feet, John would never be able to climb the proper trees.

John was equally confident he would win. In the army they were trained to climb a pole. He had always been wondering what that would be good for since there were never any missions at Caribbean islands or other areas with palm trees on the list. Now he knew what they were good for. He giggled imaging the face of his training officer if he would know that a skill training worth thousands of Pounds of tax payers money would actually be helpful to a veteran to woo his boyfriend. Major Bings was an arrogant choleric homophobic sod. He would probably die from a stroke or something if he knew.

It turned out that Sherlock's obvious advantage due to his height was narrowed down significantly by his choice of clothing. Skin tight suit trousers and ankle long coat proved not to be the best outfit for competitively fast tree climbing. He managed to climb five tall trees though and took a nice picture on his Blackberry with him clinging to the topmost branches that looked almost too thin to bear his weight.

John's training advantage turned out to be not so much one since he had had his last training on a base near Kabul about three weeks before he was shot and neither a slightly dysfunctional shoulder joint nor a psychosomatic pain in his leg had been part of the training session. In the end he managed to climb five trees.

It was two minutes to the hour when John finally walked the path that led to Kenwood House. He was a bit out of breath had scratches on hands and a nasty one across his cheek where a twig had hit him while climbing down his last tree when suddenly something heavy dropped out of the tree above him and clung to his back. John slightly stumbled under the sudden weight but caught his balance quickly and wrapped his arms around the skinny legs that pressed into his sides.

"Hello Sherlock, nice to see you, too, but is there any particular reason why you want to feed me to your skull on our first date?" he asked and tilted his head just so he could take a look at Sherlock's face.

"There is no-one around except Mycroft's cameras and I used to do that when I was five." he smiled back at John.

"Yes, when you were five you might have been a little less long limbs and heavy than you are now. Off!" John demanded and shoved his lover down. "Jesus, did you get into a fight or something?" Sherlock's hair was tousled and leaves stuck all over his head, his trousers had a long rip on the back and his coat was crinkled.

"No, I got stuck when I climbed my third tree. Might have underestimated the inconvenience of my usual clothing. And don't dare to say 'I told you so'." John had to bite back a chuckle and tried to put on a blank expression. He of course failed spectacularly and doubled over giggling as mad.

"So how many did you manage to climb?" he asked breathlessly when they settled down on a bench overlooking the pond.

"Five, and you?"

"Also five. So who wins then?"

Sherlock looked at a loss for once and shrugged.

"Oh I know" John exclaimed and was already on his feet walking over to a group of primary school kids gathering around her teacher for a picknick.

"Would you mind to help us settle an argument?"he asked a group of boys that seem to have finished their sandwiches and ready to start a fight soon.

"My friend and I have a serious competition going who is the better tree climber. Look we got photos of us climbing trees and we need your help to decide who won." He sent an open and apologetic smile in direction of the teacher to make sure she didn't think he was trying anything unappropriated with her pupils.

After looking at the pics one of the kids asked: "Are you not a bit old to climb trees?" Sherlock grinned "I was actually asking him the same, you know." and ignored John's glare.

The boys bent over the phones again and finally decided. "He is!" pointing to John's phone.

"He looks cool. You look just silly."

At that Sherlock snatched his phone from the kid and took off with a petulant huff. John followed close behind, looking more than just a bit smug.