The meeting lasted a few hours. So far they had: cases of blindness, electrocution and tastelessness; Ted was some sort of carrier; Owen had some lab results that he didn't go in depth about because most of the team didn't have the science background for it. The interviews Tosh and Gwen had been doing were discussed as well. There were a few jokes about interviewing the electrocution victims with a 'risen mitten' and lastly, arrangements were made to procure a few of the cadavers and any supplies Sherlock would need.
After the meeting Tosh, Gwen, and Owen were sent home, and Jack gave John and Sherlock instructions to a nearby hotel where they could stay for free under the name of Torchwood.
At this Sherlock scoffed.
"What is it?" Jack asked and John shot Sherlock a warning glance.
"You're hardly secret are you?"
"That's the thing though, we don't need to be too secret. Everyone's so blinded by ignorance, nobody sees what's right in front of them," Jack responded.
Sherlock paused for a moment and John could tell he agreed with the statement.
"Aliens? I'll believe you are an offhanded agency, but you don't really expect me to believe that you work with extraterrestrials. It's clear you're some sort of ragtag defense agency."
"We are a defense agency. Torchwood exists to protect and defend the country and the planet from alien threat, using any means at our disposal," Jack said with an air of mitigation. John thought he was impatient to leave.
"You must think me an idiot," Sherlock sneered.
"No, give it time. Tomorrow I'll have Owen show you a weevil, and maybe Ianto can introduce you to Myfanwy. By the end of the week you'll be a believer."
The hotel room was rather nice. It was three rooms- a bedroom with a desk closet and two twin beds, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. John and Sherlock checked in with no problem, the clerk at the front desk had been friendly. When he walked into the room John was tired and hungry and he figured they should order room service; they hadn't eaten for hours.
Sherlock hung his jacket in the closet and sat down on the bed nearest the window, looking around the room.
"I'm going to order dinner. Do you want anything in particular?" John knew better than to ask if Sherlock was hungry; he was now on a case and would deny food, ignoring the notion of eating or hunger completely unless John asked and encouraged him to eat regular meals.
"On a case!" Sherlock replied. He had flopped onto his back and was lying prone and staring at the ceiling. John guessed he was deep in thought, reliving the details of the meeting and trying to make connections that he and the others had previously missed.
"You still need to eat," John told him. He sat down on the opposite bed and flipped through the hotel service guide that had been sitting on the night stand next to the phone. He found the menu and began to decide what to order for them. He thought maybe they could have chicken pot pies with a side of vegetables.
"Steak and wine."
John looked up at his friend, and asked "Steak and wine?" as he raised an eyebrow. Sherlock almost never had input when it came to food - especially when he was on a case.
"Torchwood's footing the bill, so why not?" He asked.
"Alright," John smiled and picked up the phone to order their meal. When he set it down he looked at Sherlock who had sat up and was repressing a smile. A moment later they broke into laughter. "They're not very secret at all, are they."
"No." He responded trying to suppress another wave of laughter "Not very much."
"Well, dinner should be here in a half an hour," John said. "What?"
"Ianto and Jack are a couple." Sherlock said. "Also, Gwen is married, Ianto was married, and Owen is an idiot."
"Sherlock." John replied trying and failing to sound reproachful. They spent the next twenty minutes discussing the Torchwood team. Sherlock guided John through his deductions and then they tried to piece together more stories and background about the agents. It was more speculations and games than actual knowledge but they were both rather enjoying the conversation. They were finally interrupted by a knock at the door and the arrival of dinner.
The food was delicious and even Sherlock made decent progress at eating it. The wine was strong and they worked their way through the better half of the bottle. Sitting on Sherlock's bed they set the plates aside and lay next to one another.
"Aliens, John! There can't be aliens," Sherlock said covering his face with his hand.
"They seem pretty convinced," he replied with a smile, feeling relatively carefree. John didn't believe in the supernatural and extraterrestrial either, but then he wasn't nearly as skeptical as Sherlock. If aliens did exist they would find out tomorrow.
"It doesn't make sense. Don't you think that if aliens existed it would be more obvious?"
"I don't know." John yawned; he was growing tired from the long day and the wine. John looked at his lover whose brows were now furrowed in contemplation as he stared at the ceiling and felt a wave of affection.
"And this case, there has to be some sort of underlying biological cause, maybe it's a rare disease or pathogen but it must be- John?" Sherlock had noticed his staring.
"Oh, we'll find out soon enough. We have to be up early tomorrow. " He replied, his eyes landing upon Sherlock's lips for an instant.
A moment later their mouths met and Sherlock's warm lips tasted of the wine that was causing John's thoughts to circle pleasantly in his mind. John felt a light tugging at his lower lip and he opened his mouth allowing the kiss to deepen, his head swimming from lack of breath.
"Not tired." Sherlock sighed when they pulled away, resting his forehead on John's.
"No," Was all John could muster before he fell once more into another wine hazy kiss.