"Should I call cab?" John asked as he was getting ready.

"I thought we could walk, since it's only a few streets away." Sherlock said while tying his blue scarf around his neck.

"Where are we going exactly?" John asked, appearing in the living room.

"A new place I found. Called 'Crusaders', it's four star, not too expensive, but not too shabby. I thought we should try it."

"Alright, excellent. Just give me a few minutes and we can go." John said as he left the room again.

Sherlock locked the door behind them as they stepped out onto the street. Sherlock led the way briskly, his coat swaying, as John tried to keep up.

"A bit excited, are we?" John panted as he arrived at Sherlock's side.

"A bit, yes. I'm quite hungry too."

John grinned. Now that he thought about it, so was he.

A few moments later, they arrived out front of the restaurant. They proceeded inside to be met by a hostess.

"A table for two under 'Holmes'." Sherlock spoke to her.

"Follow me," she smiled at the couple in front of her.

"When did you book it?" John asked.

"This morning."

"But we didn't know we were coming here til a couple of hours ago." John replied, puzzled.

"You didn't know." Sherlock tried to hold back smile.

"So you thought you'd just presume I'd say yes, did you?" John smirked.

"I didn't predict, I knew you would."

"You never cease to amaze."

After placing their orders, Sherlock and John settled in their seats, accompanied by a drink each.

"So, what does TARDIS stand for?" Sherlock asked.

"What? Why do you ask?" John looked up, surprised.

"I'm making conversation." Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

"Well, it stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."

"When is that show on again?"

"You like it?"

"I was quite enjoyable."

John grinned, pleased that Sherlock approved of his taste in television programs.

"I mean, it's unrealistic, but enjoyable. Oh, here's our meals, I think." Sherlock sat up eagerly.

Sure enough, plates were placed in front of the two mean, adorned with steaming food.

"Thank you very much." John said, licking his lips.

The waitress disappeared, and John eyed Sherlock's meal. "Filet Mignon? Expensive taste you have."

"Well, it's okay when I'm buying it." Sherlock replied, gracefully slicing into the meat.

"So you're saying if I was buying the food, you would order something cheaper?" John questioned.

"Yes, I mean, that's just decency, isn't it?"

John giggled.

"What?"

"Well, I don't know, it's just a bit strange hearing you talking about decency."

"Why? Are you saying I'm not decent?" Sherlock looked offended.

"Well, you do keep body parts in fridge."

"True."

Molly looked up from behind the menu she was reading. There they were, Sherlock and John, having a meal together. They were smiling and laughing; any outsider would think they were together.

She'd come to the restaurant for dinner of course, but the main reason was to check up on the boys. She wanted everything to work out for them. If they remained friends, so be it, but who knows? They might even end up together. Molly didn't go out much, mainly because she didn't really have that many people to go out with. Even tonight she was at a solitary table.

After she order her meal, she was deep in thought until she heard a familiar voice.

"Molly?"

She looked up.

"Greg, hi!" she said, surprised to see the detective inspector in the same restaurant too.

"Dining with anyone?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat opposite her.

"No, just me." she replied.

"Same with me; I just wanted a good feed." Lestrade grinned.

"Well, um, would you maybe… oh never mind." Molly blushed.

"No, what were you going to say?" Lestrade smiled kindly.

"Well, I thought that maybe since we both weren't here with anyone that you might like to sit at my table…"
"Sure, that would be great!" Greg replied. "Do you want a drink? I was just going to get one for myself."

"Oh, yes thanks." Molly smiled.

As the night when on, Sherlock and John consumed more drinks, and Sherlock was getting very giggly, much to John's amusement.

"You don't drink much do you?" John laughed. Sherlock was obviously drunk.

"I drink everyday John, don't be ridiculous."

"I mean alcohol, you sod. Look at you; we might have to leave soon, before you do something stupid."

"Yes! Let's leave now, it's getting a bit boring."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, not you! The place. You could never get boring John." Sherlock giggled.

"Alright, leaving now." John slid his seat back and grabbed Sherlock's wrist to tug him up.

The finally got to the flat (Sherlock's wobbly stride cause them to take longer than usual) and Sherlock pushed through the door as soon as he managed to get the key in the keyhole. He started to climb the steps, but he tripped and landed on his stomach across the steps. John rushed forward and ceased his arms.

"C'mon, up you get. I think you should have some water, and then bed."

Sherlock refused to move. "I'll just sleep here. I can't be bothered moving."

John sat next to his friend. "I don't think that'll be too good for your back, come on."

"No! I don't want to move!"

"Fine, I'll just leave you there then, shall I?" John asked as he got up and started to walk up the rest of the stairs.

"Yep. Goodnight!"

John went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. After sculling it down he got a thought. He filled up the glass again, and turned to go back to the staircase, but he bumped straight into Sherlock.

"Woah! Next time, clear your throat or something." John exclaimed.

"Sorry John." Sherlock said, like a child in trouble, and he wrapped his arms around John and hugged him.

"Uh, what are you doing?" John asked, his arms trapped awkwardly at his sides.

"Thanking you."

"What the hell for?"

"For being my friend."

"Okay, um, you're welcome?"

"Now, look after me."

"What?"

"Get me drink."

"What happened to sleeping on the stairs?"

"It was uncomfortable."

"Okay, I'll get you a drink, but only this once. I don't want you to break something." John said, and he turned to get to the sink.

Sherlock walked into the lounged and collapsed on the sofa. He took his mobile phone out of his pocket and composed a text.

Thanks for the suggestion, Molly.

- SH