Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or characters thereof. I do not own the BBC version either.
There had seldom been a moment in Greg's life where he had been truly nervous. Proposing to his ex-wife was one of those times. Getting ready to pick John up was another. He fixed his jacket for the tenth time, debating on whether or not it was too casual. Finally, he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out the door before he could change. Again. Closing the car door was like locking himself into a dream. All that was running through his head was a chant of isthisreallyhappeninghowisthishappening? He started the car and headed to 221 B Baker Street with a pounding heart.
Loneliness was something he had simply accepted as life. Now it was being replaced with something warm and inviting and he didn't know how it had happened. It was incomprehensible to him. He was also terrified. He was afraid that this whole thing was a joke, a trick, and he'd end up sitting in his flat again, drinking a six-pack alone.
John was something that was hard to describe. He was brilliant in his own unique way. He was caring - it was beginning to become the only reason he was so helpful with cases. He was military and, hell, if that didn't turn Greg on. He set his shoulders as he parked in front of the flat. Before he could even open the door to get out, John skittered out the door, a mildly irritated expression on his face. He opened the door, climbed in, and slammed it shut behind him. After a brief moment to catch his breath, he turned to Greg with a grin. "Hullo," he greeted cheerfully. Too cheerfully. Greg narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"You okay? You don't have to do this…" There it was. He was actually admitting that he thought this was a joke. He was asking John to just admit it, laugh, and go back inside. Because loneliness had been his best friend for so long, he fully believed that it was his only option. His wife had thought so too.
John stared at him a moment in confusion and then muttered, "Greg, if you don't want to do this, that's fine. I know I was taking a gamble but… You seemed like a really decent guy who needed a good night out. This doesn't have to be anything but two friends going to get a drink, if you need." He looked a bit disappointed as he said all this and yet his voice stayed firm.
Greg couldn't help but let out an incredulous bark of a laugh. "I was afraid this was a joke. If you're serious, a nice date out is just what the doctor ordered." He winked at the blonde who blushed slightly.
"It is precisely what the doctor ordered," John said with a smirk. "And maybe a little bit of dessert after." Greg flushed this time and turned his attention to driving off to his already decided destination. They drove in silence for a bit and then John shifted in his seat. "So, I'm curious about that 'drug bust' you pulled the other day. Withholding evidence?"
Greg outwardly grimaced. "He's done it before. And the drug bust was a cover but I've done plenty to him in the past." He got a rather perplexed look to this bit of information. "I've had to deal with Sherlock through his druggie years up to now. His brother set me to be his babysitter and that involved breaking into his flat to search for drugs on a bi-weekly basis. When I finally threatened to lock him up and withhold cases from him, he started sobering up. I mean, yeah, I worried about his health but it wasn't really my problem. Until Mycroft. If he hadn't always been nosing into my cases and life, I probably wouldn't have cared about his methods to stay awake and alert."
John nodded to his words. "I understand. His methods are unorthodox but they worked for him. I don't think he had much going for him, though, and that's why he did what he did." Greg shrugged noncommittally. It took a moment before John quietly asked, "What do you mean by him nosing into your life?"
He actually had said that? Greg hissed angrily at himself and his hands tightened on the wheel reflexively. "Sherlock just does that. You must have noticed by now?"
"I have…" John murmured, watching Greg's reaction and deciding that he better drop it while he was ahead. "Listen, I asked you out because you looked at knackered as I felt. Let's enjoy the night, yeah?"
Greg pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. It was a prime place because it was casual-formal and if this turned in an awkward way, they could still pass off the night as friends. As he turned off the car, he grinned at John. "Yeah, of course, mate." They got out of the car and headed inside where they were given the choice of a booth or a table. After a bit of light bickering, they decided on a booth. Greg honestly wanted to just let himself go with the night. He wanted to be a risk-taker and just say, "fuck it" to everything. But he was too wary. Too scared, if he were to be honest. There had to be a bit of restraint, a way out if things didn't work the way he hoped they would. And that was how he was dictating his entire night. If this happens, can I still do that? If that doesn't work out, will this be an option? Can I make this less awkward this way? It wasn't his favorite thing to do but he couldn't shut his brain off.
About halfway through their dinner date, John decided that Greg was thinking too much and slid over in the booth until they were side-by-side. He then started purposefully bumping into the other, knocking the fork out of his hand several times before Greg started playfully shoving him. "I'm eating," he said lightly to which John just laughed, "You've been eating for ages. Aren't you done?"
Greg had not lived with Sherlock before but he could assume that sleep was not something that happened frequently at 221 B Baker Street. For John to be so enthusiastic and wound up hinted heavily at sleep-deprivation. Deciding the food was not worth whatever could come out of this, he set his fork aside and dropped a few bills on the table before grabbing John's hand and heading out of the place. They skittered to a stop in front of the car, stared at it, looked at each other, and then continued walking. The air seemed to sober up John a bit and they talked in hushed voices about their experiences between the military and the force. When they tired of that, John swung their hands a bit and offered, "This has been great. I haven't felt this stress-free for ages."
Grinning, Greg agreed. "We should do this more often. Bi-weekly?"
John snorted. "I'd like weekly, personally. Doesn't have to cost anything. Just no running. I do enough of that with Sherlock." He sighed and rolled his shoulder. "Speaking of, Greg… I was thinking… You're a really great guy. Hell, I'd go as far as to say the best I've met since I moved back to London. And I was starting to think… You've known Sherlock longer than I have. I think that things between us, if we wanted to keep them going, could go far. I mean, you'd understand best when Sherlock dragged me away and all that. Everyone else I've dated sees themselves as second best and it's not true. But… When Sherlock says come…"
"You damn well better come," Greg finished quietly and John nodded. It was only a first date and neither expected there to be more. In fact, Greg had kind of been betting that they wouldn't even get to bed together that night. He was resigning himself to the idea that this was just for fun, one night, and they'd go back to pretending nothing had happened the next day. For John to be suggesting that they have nights like these again, implying that something could come of this… Greg was a bit baffled. "So you'd want to date me because I can put up with you running off with Sherlock all the time? That's a bit shallow, don't ya think?"
John's body physically jolted with the suggestion that left Greg's lips and he looked up at the other with a deep frown. "That's not what I meant, but I suppose it did sound like that…" He worried his lower lip a moment and then tried again, "It was more of a side-thought. Something that would suggest things could really work between us."
After that, Greg couldn't give a damn about what he had meant. John was suggesting that this could go somewhere and they hadn't even finished this date. He was elated. He hadn't felt this way in what felt like eons. He jumped on the chance. He stopped their walking, turned to face John, cupped his face in both hands… And pressed their lips together firmly. There was a startled noise that bubbled up from John's throat before he rested his hands on his shoulders and kissed him back happily.
A/N: This is part two! I am drawing near the end. My first attempt at a Sherlock fic and I hope you like it, even if it is an odd pairing. And a horribly written first date. I hate working through first dates... :T I don't know why I decided to write this story this way. But way too late to go back now. It's nearly Christmas already!
Anyway, please review! :D
