Chapter 2

At seven o'clock a big black car with tinted windows pulled up in front of 221b Baker Street. Jim texted Sherlock: 'I would come up and get you, but I'm not sure your pet would be pleased.'

John was out on a date anyway, so it wouldn't have mattered much. Sherlock slipped on his coat and scarf. He hadn't dressed any differently than he would on any other day, almost out of spite. He exited his flat and opened the car door, not even looking inside before he slipped in.

Jim was waiting, dressed in one of his best suits. He smiled appreciatively at the sight of Sherlock. "Cute as a button, aren't you?"

"Aren't I just? Do the 24 hours start now?" He crossed his legs and rested his hands at his side, looking out the window.

Jim looked at the stopwatch in his hand. He pressed the button. "Now!" he said and signalled to the driver. The car pulled away from the curb and snaked its way through the busy London streets.

"Splendid." Sherlock kept his voice as nonchalant as he could. "What are we to do?"

"Oh, I have big plans. I think you'll be surprised, but I doubt you'll be disappointed."

Sherlock hummed. "But you're not going to tell me anything." He was quite excited about this whole thing, though he wouldn't admit it.

"Don't want to spoil any of the surprises." Jim leaned forward and picked a chilled bottle of champagne from somewhere in the front seat. Then he found two glasses, filled them and handed Sherlock one. "To a night of possibilities," he said, raising his own glass.

Sherlock looked over at Jim, raised his glass silently, and then sipped it. He nodded in approval of the taste.

The car pulled up in front of British Museum. Almost two hours after closing time, the building was dark and silent. Jim got out of the car and then reached in, to offer Sherlock his hand.

Sherlock smiled to himself for a moment before taking Jim's hand, letting him help him out. He didn't speak, though; he hadn't felt the need yet.

Jim led him around to a small door on the side of the building. It had a sign that said 'Staff only, no entrance' and a complicated looking keypad next to it. Jim let Sherlock's hand go and positioned himself, so he was obscuring the keypad from view. After a moment of fiddling, the door clicked and opened. "Stay here," Jim winked and slipped inside. After only a minute he popped his head out. "Okay, come on in."

Sherlock followed Jim in. He was curious and it showed.

"Tonight, no doors are closed to us," Jim declared, giggling at his own theatricality. Again he took Sherlock's hand and led him through the dimly lit corridors and galleries. "Don't worry about security. They won't be bothering us." Sensing a possible objection he added: "And no, they have not been harmed or threatened. Let's just say they've gotten a bit of a raise and some extra free time tonight."

Sherlock smiled "How thoughtful of you." He let Jim lead him, having no intention of resisting. He had lost the game and was going to let Jim have his fun. And he wasn't complaining. Jim was, after all, the most interesting person he knew.

In the gallery currently showing Spanish renaissance art, a table had been set for dinner for two. Jim gestured for Sherlock to take a seat, poured the expensive vintage wine and uncovered the plates, revealing delicately arranged fine French cuisine. Sherlock raised his eyebrows, impressed. "You have great taste, if you don't mind me saying." He hadn't been expecting something so romantic and was slightly caught off guard. He considered lowering his guard altogether, but was doubtful that was even possible.

When Sherlock was seated, Jim sat down as well and unfolded his napkin, placing it carefully in his lap. His table manners were impeccable when he wanted them to be, and tonight he was aiming to impress.

Sherlock took a bite of the food in front of him. He was expecting the best, and of course, it was. "So what brought you to come up with this?" He gestured loosely around, referring to the whole situation, the setting, the food, the wine.

"Oh, I've been wanting to do this for ages." Jim sipped his wine. "I just didn't have anybody special enough to share it with."

"Are you aiming to flatter me?"

"Is it working?"

Sherlock smiled. "Of course."

"Then yes, I am." Jim shot him one of his rare completely genuine smiles.

Sherlock too sipped his wine. "So, ages?" he smirked as he put down his glass and observed Jim. He paid close attention to every small move the man made.

"Are you asking me how long it's been since the last time I had a date?" Jim seemed amused by the question.

"Only if you've been waiting to take me out, since the last time you dated."

"Well," Jim squirmed a bit. "Can't say I have. You see, I've never really dated."

"And you're doing so well!" Sherlock mused. "Can't say I have either, though..."

"See? We're perfect for each other." Jim smiled. "Are you done? I've got so much more planned."

Sherlock looked at his half filled plate. Then he nodded. "I'm done whenever you say I am. 24 hours, remember?"

"Oh," Jim pouted. "Don't be like that. You make it sound like I'm forcing you."

"No, no." Sherlock shifted uncomfortably. "Whatever you want, yeah? That was the deal." He smiled softly.

Jim relaxed a little, but was still not convinced. "Would you rather we ended this now?"

"Not at all. I find you far more interesting than anything else I could be doing."

Jim beamed at him. "Good, the best is yet to come." Once again he held out his hand to Sherlock.

Sherlock took the hand, wrapping his own around it gently. It was rather nice having someone interested in impressing him. And Jim was definitely succeeding.

They took a different route through the museum but ended up at the same door. Once again Jim told Sherlock to wait and disappeared inside. This time he was gone for almost five minutes. When he returned he was carrying a memory stick. "Just had to clear the security footage. Keeping a copy though."

Sherlock laughed in relief. He had gotten slightly nervous waiting, and had started thinking that maybe Jim wasn't being sincere and this was all a game or something. "A copy of us?" He blushed slightly and looked away, not wanting to embarrass himself.

"Of course," Jim took Sherlock's hand, raised it and pressed a gentle kiss to the palm. Then he led him to the waiting car.

Sherlock blushed even more at the kiss and again let Jim lead him. He had been excited about this the moment Jim mentioned it earlier that day, but he hadn't anticipated how much he would be enjoying it. Perhaps it was the thrill of being with Jim, his enemy and not knowing where he was taking him or what they were doing.

This time the car stopped in a small alley in a classy shopping district. Jim got and went to get something out of the boot of the car. Then he waited for Sherlock. "Are you coming?"

Sherlock stepped out of the car and looked around. "Well... this is... pleasant?"

"I hope you don't mind some exercise." Jim looked at him over his shoulder, as he set down the alley at a brisk pace.

Sherlock's long legs allowed him to catch up and keep pace with Jim. "Of course not." He was used to running around, after all. It was rather odd for a date, but he knew he wasn't going to be disappointed.

Jim stopped underneath a fire escape looking up at the half-raised ladder. "This is a bit embarrassing," he grinned sheepishly. "Do you think you can reach that? I'm not quite... tall enough."

Sherlock looked up and reached to pull it down. "Don't be embarrassed." He actually thought it was quite adorable.

Jim shot Sherlock a grateful smile and then scampered up the ladder. He went all the way to the top and then climbed nimbly up a drainpipe to the roof of the building. He looked down, expectantly.

"I'm guessing you want me to follow." Sherlock called up before starting the climb.

"If you think you can make it," Jim called back with an impish grin. Then he settled down and opened the black leather bag he had brought.

Sherlock walked up behind him, and peaked over his shoulder. "What's that?"

Jim held up a rather standard glass cutter and pointed at a skylight. "You want to do the honours?"

Sherlock considered. "Not particularly, but if you'd rather I did it..."

"I don't mind." Jim went to the window, but before he set to work, he pulled something small, almost like the remote for a car alarm out of his pocket. Holding the button down, he moved it along the frame, humming to himself. "There we go," he said, picked up the tool and cut a circular hole in the glass.

Sherlock watched as he worked. "Reason we're breaking in is...?"

"You'll see." Jim stuck his hand through the hole and fiddled with the latch. Carefully he opened the window, and then stuck his head and shoulders inside. When he came back up he was smiling eagerly. "Better let me go first. These alarms are a bit tricky." He pulled a rope out of the bag and secured it to a heavy pipe running along the roof. Then he went to the window and lowered himself inside.

Sherlock waited until Jim called and then followed. He looked around. "Well, this is interesting."

They were in an office on the top floor of one of London's most expensive jewellers. Jim beamed with pride, hoping Sherlock would be impressed.

Sherlock smiled at him. "What exactly do you have in mind, Jim?"

"Stop asking and just watch." He once again took Sherlock's hand and let him from the office down the stairs to the showroom. In the dim light all the display cases glittered and flashed with the precious stones and metals inside them. Jim let Sherlock to a glass pedestal in the middle of the room. Secure behind bulletproof glass lay an expensive looking fob watch, with an intricate lotus design and the name 'Fibonacci' on the front. "It takes two years to produce these," Jim explained. "They are currently sold for just under 1.5 million pounds."

Sherlock got very close to the glass and examined the watch. "It's lovely." Two years of work! Someone put a lot of care into this. He moved around the pedestal to look at it better and hummed to himself.

Jim fiddled with his small remote and then pressed the button again. There was a quiet whoosh of air and the top of the glass case slid to the side. Jim reached inside and carefully removed the watch.

Sherlock watched, not incredibly surprised that he had the ability to just take the watch. Seeing him actually do it was somehow impressive, though.

Jim turned and gently attached the chain to Sherlock's jacket before slipping the watch into his shirt pocket. He mumbled something about it working better with a vest. He then got on his toes and kissed Sherlock's cheek. "Don't worry, you can return it in a day or two. Just say you got the watch but the culprit escaped. You'll be a hero. Or you could always... keep it."

Sherlock smiled softly as Jim's lips touched his cheek. "Since it's a gift, keeping it would be best..." He wondered why he even considered this. The right thing to do would be to place it back in its spot, but he didn't touch it.

Jim glanced up at the security cameras. "Five minutes until they kick back in. We better get going. Feel like running?"

Sherlock smirked. "Not much of a choice."

Jim led him down to the ground floor and over to the glass doors. Using his remote he quickly had the automatic bars out of the way. He took off his jacket, wrapped it around his arm, and with a wicked grin smashed his elbow through the glass. The alarms wailed. "Let's go."