Sherlock scampered down the stairs and into the kitchen with a spring in his step. A strange sight made him pause as he entered the kitchen.
"Morning." Joan turned away from the stove to smile at him.
"Morning…" He was surprised. She was never up this early and she most definitely had never cooked breakfast for him.
She turned back towards the stove, still smiling. She flipped the pancakes on the griddle and proceeded to scramble the eggs in the pan on the stove.
"Take a seat. The eggs will be done soon." She spoke with her back facing him. She glanced sideways as she heard him follow her directions and take a seat at the dining table.
He sat in one of the four seats and found that the table was made too. He still had a puzzled look on his face as she turned and scooped eggs onto his plate from the pan.
"How many?" She asked as she made her way back to the counter where the griddle was.
"What?" He asked, still puzzeled.
"Pancakes. How many?" She turned with a plate full of the fluffy cakes.
"Um…Two, please." He watched as she placed two on another plate near him and put two more on another plate across the table. She placed the rest of the pancakes in the middle of the table and retreated to the kitchen for butter and syrup. When she returned, Joan placed the toppings by the leftover pancakes and took her seat.
"Dig in." She smiled and started spreading butter on her pancakes.
They ate in silence for awhile before Sherlock finally gave in.
"Alright, I give up. What's this for?" He took another bite of his eggs and chewed as she replied.
"We haven't been able to find time to have a 'Welcome Home' dinner for you because of your anger-management classes and all the new cases needing your assistance, so…I decided a 'Welcome Home' breakfast should suffice." She half-smiled and took a bite of her last pancake.
"What about the dinner at Rye's Revenue?" He asked as he wiped his mouth clean.
"I thought that was a…" She trailed off as he raised his brows in question. "Nevermind." She stood and picked up his clean plate. She stacked it on hers and went to the sink to wash them off.
He took that as a sign to help so he started to clean off the table. He picked up all the dirty plates and took them to the sink where Joan was standing. He placed them in the sink and leaned back on the counter so he could speak face-to-face with her as she cleaned off the utensils.
"Date." He knew that was what she was going to say.
"What?" She almost dropped the plate she was cleaning in surprise.
"You thought it was a date." He explained as she kept her attention towards the plates. "And don't try to deny it either. Your silence and the way you're avoiding my gaze proves my hypothesis."
She placed the plate in the sink and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Yes. Okay? I thought it was a date." She dried off her hands and picked her book up from the dining table before heading for the parlor. She took a seat on the couch as Sherlock entered the room.
"I thought it was too…" He took a seat across from her and dropped his gaze from hers.
"You did?" She looked up in surprise. She slowly got up from the couch and sat next to him. She could see him tense up as she did so.
He stared straight forward and tried to relax but couldn't knowing she was so close to him.
"Sherlock?" She asked softly. Joan was going to go for it. She was going to see where this relationship was headed and if it was strong enough to be called a 'romantic relationship'. All he needed to do was turn his head and she would plant one on him…
A loud ring broke the tension and Sherlock jumped up from the couch to investigate the sound. Joan leaned back and groaned in defeat.
"Watson!" He called from the hallway after some time.
She got up lazily and walked slowly to the hallway. "What is it?" She was sick and tired of their 'moments' being interrupted.
"Gregson texted. He needs our assistance..." He watched as she closed her eyes and frowned. "What is it?"
She shook her head and went to the coat hanger to retrieve her coat but Sherlock beat her there. He held it out for her and she slipped into it with his help. She headed for the door and exited before Sherlock could open the door for her. She continued to descend the steps to the street to hail a cab. She saw one coming and raised her hand hoping it would stop for her. It sped past and she groaned. Another one was heading towards her and she again tried to stop it; it sped past without slowing down.
"Here, I'll make them stop." Sherlock walked up behind her and raised his hand for a cab and readied the whistle in his mouth that he had fetched from his coat pocket.
"I can do it myself, Sherlock." She growled and stepped in front of him.
"I'm just trying to help…" He started.
"I don't need your help!" She screamed in frustration as another cab left her in the dust. She looked down the road and saw one last cab traveling her way. As it came closer, she stepped out in front of it and held her hand out yelling 'stop!'. The cab slowed but still was headed towards her at a dangerous speed.
"Joan!" Sherlock grabbed her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her out of the way of the cab as she tried prying herself out of his grasp.
"Let me go!" She yelled as she tried wiggling free. The cab squealed as it came to a stop in front of them. He released her and she turned to face him.
"What the hell Joan?!" He was angry; she could tell. "What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?!"
She spun around and yanked the cab door open. She got in and slammed it shut as Sherlock ran to the other side to get in.
The cab ride was quiet and tense. Joan was irritated and knew that she had overreacted but wouldn't admit it to him.
"What was that?" Sherlock broke the silence. He had calmed down since the incident and was trying to understand why she had made such a scene. When she didn't answer, he looked over at her and saw that she was staring straight ahead with a vacant look in her eyes. "Joan…" He reached for her hand.
When she felt his hand grab hers, she looked up into his loving gaze. She felt herself calm down and when she believed she had control over her emotions, she answered.
"I'm sorry…I just…well, whenever I feel like we are having…" She looked down at their intertwined hands and continued, "a 'moment', I feel like you just blow me off…" She sighed.
"I'm sorry. I'm not used to 'romantic' stuff." He dropped his gaze and she squeezed his hand to show him it was okay. He looked back up into her eyes and smiled. "How about I make it up to you tomorrow night?"
"How so?" She asked as he let go of her hand and pulled out his phone.
"I'm going to make reservations for us at Tali's and then we can have a 'Welcome Home' date." He smiled and proceeded to call to make reservations. After he had had a short conversation with the man on the phone, he turned his attention back to her. "It's official. Dinner for two tomorrow night at Tali's." He smiled and took her hand in his again.
"Sounds nice." She smiled back and they held hands for the rest of the cab ride.
…
When they walked into the NYPD offices, they were greeted by Detective Bell.
"Where is Captain Gregson?" Sherlock asked before Bell could say anything.
"In his office." The dectective glanced at Joan in question and then back at Sherlock.
Sherlock pushed past Bell and pulled Joan with him. When they got to The Captain's office, they entered and Gregson stood up to greet them.
"Sherlock…What are you doing here?" The Captain looked at Joan and then at Sherlock like Bell had done.
"You texted us that you needed assistance." Sherlock replied, confused.
"I actually texted Joan…" He looked over to Joan and her mouth fell slightly open.
"But you meant both of us…right?" She asked quickly trying to make it sound less suspicious. She motioned for him to stop and change subjects. She stopped the motioning when Sherlock looked to her for answers.
Gregson was confused until he remembered that she had specifically told him to keep her interest in being a consulting detective a secret. "Oh…uh, yeah. I just thought you had a class today…"
Sherlock seemed to buy it and Joan was relieved. She did not want him to know.
"Joan, have you contacted your friend at the hospital yet about the chemicals?" Gregson asked.
"Oh, crap. No, I'll call her now." She went to the hallway to call her friend and left Sherlock with Gregson.
Sherlock decided to use this alone time to ask something he couldn't ask in front of Joan.
"Flirting with an anger-management student is illegal, is it not?" He asked as soon as Watson was preoccupied with her friend on the phone.
"What?" Gregson was taken aback. What was he talking about?
"My 'teacher' came on to me the other day…" Sherlock seemed really uncomfortable talking about whatever had happened.
"How so?" Gregson took a seat as Sherlock glanced out at Joan to make sure she was still on the phone.
"She was being very clingy and seductive…I read somewhere that professionals are not allowed to involve themselves with clients of that sort." Sherlock sat on Gregsons desk as he talked.
"Well yes…It could get her fired but not put in jail, Sherlock." Gregson leaned forward.
"Perfect. I can't keep going to these stupid meetings with dread about seeing her. I need a new teacher. Can you help?" Sherlock was desperate. He didn't like this woman; she was trouble.
"I can give you a wire and set some cameras up but that's it." Gregson knew that he could do nothing more seeing as this wasn't a live-or-die situation.
"That's all I need. Thank you." Sherlock was pleased and relieved.
"One more thing Sherlock, this illegal client relationship you read about…" He started.
"Yes?" Sherlock wasn't sure where this was going.
"Isn't what you and Joan have breaking that law?"
Sherlock was about to answer when Joan interrupted.
"My friend can test them right away." She smiled. She noticed something strange in the room; almost like there was tension between them. "Everything okay?" She looked from Gregson to Sherlock.
"Whenever is it not, Watson?" He got up and left the room in a hurry.
Joan turned to Gregson for an explanation but he had returned to his work and wouldn't look up at her. Something was definitely going on.
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