We were sat at a table in the far corner of the restaurant. I hadn't expected such a fancy restaurant and wasn't nearly dressed as nice as I should have been. As for Sherlock, he looked amazing. Without even trying he looked nicely groomed in his black slacks and purple shirt. That purple shirt, it was so... Unimportant... I interrupted my previous thought. Not good John, not good. The waiter came over and lit a candle in the center of the table. I soon became aware of the situation. The waiter believed we were here together... Romantically.
"Just friends" I assured him, although he had said nothing. The waiter just looked at me with a look that said "yeah right" and walked away.
"Why John?" Sherlock once again asked me. Before I had time to respond though he began talking again.
"Why do you always say that? Why do you always have to assure people we're just friends? What difference does it make? I don't understand John."
He sounded hurt and I wasn't quite sure how to respond. Luckily his phone rang and saved me from having to answer any of his questions. Lestrade, he mouthed to me. I shook my head in understanding and waited for the conversation to finish.
"They found him. They have the man in custody" Sherlock said with satisfaction. I stood to leave, feeling that there was no longer a need for us to be there.
"Where are you going" Sherlock's eyes questioned.
"Aren't we done here? They caught the man..."
"Oh" Sherlock responded in surprise
"John, you didn't think we were here for a case, did you?"
I felt stupid. What was I missing? Why else would we be here?
"Am I mistaken?" Sherlock asked.
"You told me a date was when two people went out together" he said in his most innocent voice. I was shocked... Sherlock?... Me?... A date? Surely that's not what he was implying. I felt bad though and returned to my seat. Sherlock sat silently, staring into my eyes. Then ever so slowly he extended his hand, grasping my wrist pulling me closer. What was happening? His head became closer and closer until his mouth touch the tip of my ear.
"Sentiment, my dear John" Sherlock whispered in a deep husky voice. I involuntarily shivered and by the time I had processed what had just happened Sherlock had already stood and left. I paused for a second, confused, but I knew what I must do.
