A/N: Well don't you all look so lovely today! Special Thanks to: Ashjen2010, AsamiAkihito, Raeya, Cassandra Y, BlackPetals23, and RexUnplugged for the reviews-they were lovely rays of sunshine as I was forced to wake up to yet ANOTHER blizzard this morning!
It did occur to me that I should give you all a warning for impending smuttiness. Unfortunately, there isn't any this chapter (just much hilariousness and adorable moments), so if you would prefer me to add such warnings, let me know! Otherwise, I'll add it when I remember.
Sherlock's POV
Date attempt #3
Sherlock knew he was a genius. He could pick a computer programmer out of a crowd, just by looking at his tie. He could manipulate nearly everyone around him to do his bidding and make it seem like it was their idea. No criminal could get away with any crime. No murder would go unsolved as long as Sherlock got to study the scene before the imbeciles at Scotland Yard mucked the evidence up. He could, and often did, deduce individuals down to every virtue, every sin, every want, and every desire. There was nothing Sherlock Holmes could figure out within seconds.
So it was quite curious for Sherlock to resort to searching "date ideas" on the computer.
"Of course I want date ideas for couples, what other options are there?" Sherlock exclaimed with annoyance. "Ah, yes, 50 date ideas. Let's see if Redbook is slightly above the national abysmal intelligence."
"Gah! I don't want bloody ads, I just want to get this over with as fast as possible!"
"Learn to dance? Um, no."
Sherlock glanced up at the door. John was at work and wouldn't be back for hours. Mrs. Hudson was having lunch with some friends, girl's luncheon, she calls it. Sherlock rolled his eyes, knowing that the girls' luncheon always included an excessive amount of spirits. Turning his attention to Billy, Sherlock surmised "Good thing they're out. I believe Mrs. Hudson gets nervous when I start talking to you."
Billy said nothing, which isn't unusual for the skull. Sherlock smiled at his favorite confidant and began clicking through the article.
"Be a little silly? How is partaking in shared interests silly? Clearly, I'm getting nowhere on this one. Better look at the next to be sure. A Drunch? That's it. This website has officially failed."
"Alright, this one seems a slightly better. They did agree with John that it is better to do something that allows for conversation. Bowling? Last time I went bowling, the employee tried to force me to wear those horrible shoes. Then I deduced his internet port addiction and was promptly thrown out. Hiking?" Sherlock stopped to consider.
He immediately thought of all the scents from the local wildlife. In the city, Sherlock was fortunate that animal smells were generally covered by the scents of industrialization. The last thing he wanted was to wolf out in front of John because a squirrel wanted to be cheeky. "Better skip that one."
"The Aquarium? I suppose John would grow tired of me constantly correcting the workers there, again."
The more Sherlock clicked around, the more he realized how fruitless his efforts were turning out to be. "No, no, god no, boring, are you kidding me? Ice skating?! Morons."
Sherlock slammed the laptop down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is hopeless."
To refresh his brain, Sherlock made his way to the kitchen where his latest experiment was laid out. Soon, he was completely focused on examining the effects toenails had in various substances. Idly, he reached for the chlorine mixture and frowned into the beaker. "I wonder if I have enough to create a hot-tub like solution."
Going through his supplies, Sherlock found the correct ingredients and began to mix. He then set the new solution onto a Bunsen burner to heat up to an appropriate temperature. It was then that Sherlock heard the chiming noise coming from his mobile. Distracted, Sherlock studied the picture Lestrade sent. He thought for a moment before sending back a reply.
No. Those shoe prints look too steady. If she would have been walking through the puddle, there would be indications of slipping. Clearly, the mother walked through the kitchen before the incident occurred, which matched up with her statement, not the uncle's though.
Satisfied, Sherlock put his phone back down and returned to the kitchen table.
Only to find it on fire.
In Sherlock's defense, it was quite a small fire. The solution on the burner boiled over the beaker and managed to catch alight on the flame. It then proceeded to spill over to the notebook that Sherlock had been using to record his findings. Sherlock, unflappable, quickly set out to smother the fire. It was fixed within mere moments. Honestly, there hadn't been much damage. Just a little smear, ok, a large burn mark on the centre of the table. But it could have been much worse.
Too bad, John picked the wrong day to leave work early. Once Sherlock handled the fire, he looked up and noticed John standing by the door. He had been in the middle of hanging his jacket up on the hook when he saw the flames.
Definitely not a date. Must save this.
Sherlock grinned crookedly. "Not good?"
John studied Sherlock silently. Sherlock tried to appear nonchalant but grew nervous the longer John stayed quiet. He tried to deduce as much as he could. John is breathing deeply and in measured amounts. He's upset, but trying not to yell. His hands are not flexing or rolling into fists, so he doesn't have much longer until he is calm and rational. Conclusion? He's waiting for me to offer a solution first. Sherlock brightened with realization. "This table was quickly becoming decrepit. I say we stop at a shop and get Mrs. Hudson a new one? She'll be happy to think that we are making improvements to the flat."
Sherlock saw John move into a regular breathing pattern, but still did not respond. What else am I missing? "I'll pay, of course."
"Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?" John pulled back his jacket and put it on.
Sherlock relaxed and tried not to stare at how much his brown coat clashed with his red and black jumper. He walked over to retrieve his Belstaff, moderately thankful for the foresight to have gotten dressed this morning. As they made their way down the stairs, Sherlock realized with a pang that they would be going out. "Is this a…"
"Nope. Absolutely not. Not even in the slightest." John declared, but still took Sherlock's hand.
Date attempt #4
"Well, I couldn't have done it! I'm too recognizable, thanks to your blog. Ferdinand would have seen right through my façade." Sherlock sneered as he followed a rather pissed off John down the sidewalk.
"The clubs are dark for a reason, Sherlock! One decent hat and a pair of blue jeans would have hidden your identity well." John shoved his hands in his pockets and picked up his pace.
"What does blue jeans have to do with this?"
"Because you never bloody wear them!"
"Well how would male strippers know that?!"
"Will you keep your voice down?" John shouted before lowering his own tone. "I've just gotten used to the idea dating you, but making me get a lap dance while you were sitting next to me because you thought I could get more information out of that man…." He trailed off.
Startled, Sherlock caught up to John, grasped him by the elbow and led him to an alley. John followed and leaned up against the brick wall, refusing to look Sherlock in the eye. Sherlock cupped John's face with his hand. "What are you uncomfortable with? Getting a lap dance from Ferdinand or knowing that I saw you?"
John opened and closed his mouth several times as if he was trying to speak, but no words came out. Finally, he covered Sherlock's hand with his own. "Honestly?" he asked.
Sherlock gazed deeply into John's eyes. The lines on his brow deepened as he nodded. "Of course, I would expect no less."
John licked his lips and Sherlock found he couldn't tear his gaze away from the man's lips. "Okay." John whispered. "The part that I was uncomfortable with was…"
"Yes?"
"The fact that Ferdinand looked more like Chris Farley than what I was expecting in a stripper." John smirked at Sherlock's blank expression.
He then brought out his other hand, which held his smartphone. "I took the liberty to pull up the Saturday Night Live clip. One of the American blokes in Afghanistan showed me once and I never got it out of my head."
As he played the video, Sherlock squinted at the screen. "That does look remarkably like Ferdinand. But why were you uncomfortable? Was it the extra weight?"
John, between chuckles, replied. "It was more an issue with the extra body hair and odor. Why did you pick him out anyway? It's not like he knew much."
Now it was Sherlock's turn to be uncomfortable. "Maybe I made a mistake, it happens, ok?"
"Oh my god, Sherlock." John laughed. "You didn't want me to talk to an attractive one! I was too busy with Ferdinand and it distracted me while allowing you to observe the others."
Sherlock crossed his arms. "Can you blame me? I thought at least three of them were going to throw themselves at you. None of them know that you're mine and I hate it."
John thought he'd never see the day in which Sherlock was jealous of the attention directed at him and suffered from a bout of low self-esteem because of it. He decided right then and there that he hated it. "How can I help?"
Lowering his head, Sherlock's face was hard to see through the curls. He muttered something that John could not quite hear. John pushed his hands through Sherlock's curls. "Sorry love, what did you say?"
"IsaidIwantedtoscentyou." Sherlock managed to get the words out before looking shell-shocked by the fact he actually admitted it.
"I've been doing some research on it. That's where you try to change my scent by rubbing parts of yourself on me?"
Sherlock smiled, his eyes crinkling with genuine warmth. "You've been researching?"
John couldn't help but smile back. "Of course I have."
"And you want to…?"
"Yeah."
"Tonight?"
Wrapping his hand around Sherlock's, John reached up and kissed him softly on the lips. "The second we get back to the flat."
They walked in silence for a moment before Sherlock turned to John. The doctor didn't even slow his pace. "Nope, not even close, not anything like a date."
Smirking, Sherlock draped his arm over John's shoulders. "Yet, I still am managing to get you into my bed."
A/N: Alright my lovelies, I have two options for you for next chapter! Sherlock scents John...do I make it funny and playful or should I use that M rating for all that it's worth and make something smut-tastic? Let me know with a review!
