A/N: I promise the next chapter will have a more original saying! But this scene is what I'd pictured, even before the Apple a Day. Enjoy a little bit of fluff this time! Yay, no punching! :D Review if there's a specific quote or saying you'd like me to use! c:

Word Count: 701

Idiom: "Just what the Doctor Ordered"


Something about the window of this Italian diner had caught Sherlock's eye. He looked at John expectantly and cocked his head towards the door. It had been two days since Sherlock had eaten a decent meal, due to several cases that presented themselves one after the other.

John seemed relieved that his boyfriend was finally going to eat something. He smiled before agreeing with the taller man. A small restaurant like this would be a great place for dinner. Sherlock reached for the door handle at the same time John did, but didn't let go of it when their hands touched. He then opened the door the rest of the way to let the shorter man in first.

The atmosphere inside was a bit predictable. Fluorescent lights, cheap checkered table cloths, and booths that looked like they'd seen war. Each table was outfitted with its own Parmesan, salt, pepper, and red pepper shakers. There was a spot for fountain drinks and plastic cutlery towards the back of the establishment.

Sherlock led John easily to the table by the window that had originally drawn his eye. It was a half-sized booth that looked like it had seen the most wear and tear. Probably because of the view the window commanded. There were hardly any buildings on the opposing street, and the night sky was quite clear from the vantage point. The moon, which was waning at the time, was visible. Even through the obnoxious lights, the scene was a beautiful one.

Before sitting down, John looked around for two menu's, but was called back to the table by Sherlock, who had found them successfully. They were printed on cheap paper, and were pressed on top of the ugly table cloth, underneath a rather thick piece of glass that was secured by several industrial strength nails. Sherlock told John that's how he decided this was going to be where they had their dinner. The combination of the glass, the screws, and the tired-looking booth meant the business was doing well and would, most likely, have more-than satisfactory food. John was impressed, as he usually was, even after the thought process was explained.

The server appeared and asked the two what they would like to drink. When they both tried to answer at the same time, they laughed nervously and insisted the other go first. Their server seemed rather annoyed. Eventually, John ordered first, with Sherlock ordering the same.

"Is this our first real date?" John asked, laughing at the thought. They'd been lovers for around a year now, and John couldn't recall any sort-of date they'd been on. His mouth was feeling unusually dry, so he took a sip of the soft drink he'd ordered. It didn't seem to help.

Sherlock looked him head to mid-chest before answering, "Is chasing murderous sailors not considered a date?" He grinned at his attempt at wit. John chuckled before taking another sip. Sherlock decided to do the same, before placing his hand across the table. John took the opportunity to seize it lightly. "No, I would consider this our second."

"Second? Am I missing something?" John asked, confusion drawing his brows to a line.

Sherlock's grin widened before he spoke again. "Obviously. You can't tell me you've forgotten Angelo's? We even had a candle." John let out a hearty laugh.

"God, I couldn't stand you then." Then, after a moment of thought, "Well, I could obviously stand you, but you were definitely annoying. And so damn interesting. Of course, you left me at the crime scene when we first," John was silenced by two fingers tilting his chin upwards. Sherlock's lips were on his own, and gone just as quickly. John almost wondered if he'd imagined it.

Sherlock's look of contentment told him he hadn't. The moment was so soft and unlike the usual Sherlock, that John was afraid the other might have a fever. Then the food seemed to materialize in front of them. John heard the server ask them if everything was alright, but Sherlock hadn't. Nonetheless, he answered, staring at John as he did so.

"Just what the doctor ordered."