"Do you play tennis?"

Sherlock looked up from his newspaper as John sat down across from him at the dining room table. A few weeks had passed since the incident with Irene Adler, and even though Sherlock was still a bit sore, he was mostly recovered. "Why?" he asked.

John shrugged. "Well, you remember Sarah, right?" he replied. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "... The girl I'm dating?"

Sherlock nodded. "Oh, right, her," he agreed, in a tone that made it clear he still didn't remember. "What about her?"

John gave him a look, but continued on. "Well, she's been organizing this couple's tennis tournament," he said. "It's tomorrow, actually. We're playing- Sarah and I, I mean."

Sherlock turned back to his newspaper, covering his face. "Marvelous," he commented dryly. "Have fun. I'll be sitting here." John cleared his throat pointedly, and Sherlock lowered the newspaper again with an exasperated expression. "What?"

"Well, one of the couples just cancelled," John told him. "And I told Sarah I'd find a replacement. So I was wondering if you and Max would want to play."

Sherlock looked at him blankly for a moment, and John could have sworn that he heard the cogs of his brain turning. "But Max and I aren't dating," he said.

John shrugged. "It doesn't matter, really," he replied.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Does Max even play?" he asked.

John shrugged. "She dabbles," he answered. "We took lessons together when we were younger. So, are you in?"

Sherlock was silent for a second, but then he sighed. "Fine," he agreed.

000

Max was at work when her phone rang.

She glanced over and saw that it was John calling. Sighing, she reached over and answered the call, tucking the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she continued working, sketching a new logo for a client. "Hey, John, what's up?" she asked.

"How long has it been since you've played tennis?" John said.

Max frowned in thought. "Uh, since I moved back," she replied. "So a few months. Why?"

"Sarah's running a couple's tournament this weekend and they need a sub," he explained. "I volunteered you and Sherlock."

She blinked in disbelief. "Sorry, what?" she asked.

John cleared his throat. "I said-" he started.

"No, no, I heard what you said, I'm just trying to wrap my mind around it," she interrupted. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she suddenly stopped drawing, turning her full attention to the conversation as a thought came to her. "You're not... you're not planning something, are you?"

"What do you mean?" John asked.

Max frowned. "Y'know, trying to set Sherlock and I up?" she said. "Like you used to back in school with every boy I fancied? Because I'm over it, really. I have been for a few weeks. I don't-"

"No, it's not like that," John interrupted. "I have purely innocent intentions, I swear. So are you coming...?"

Max bit her lip, thinking it over. Then she nodded. "Text me the address," she said.

000

The next day turned out to be a cool summer day, and the sun was shining brightly down on the tennis courts. By the time that Sherlock and John arrived at the park, it seemed like most of the other couples had already arrived. Sherlock's gaze found Max instantly; she was standing by the net at one of the courts, talking amicably to a couple there. As if she sensed him there, she glanced up and met his gaze. She smiled and, after saying something quickly to the people she was talking to, she headed over to greet them.

"John! I was wondering where you were!" Sarah exclaimed. The two men turned around to see Sarah jogging up to them, a smile on her face. "Hi, Sherlock, thanks for stepping in."

Sherlock nodded to her, his face expressionless, and John pulled her into a one-armed hug, giving her a quick kiss. "Sorry, the cab got stuck in traffic," John told her. "We're not too late, are we?"

"Well, I got here half an hour ago, but I was early," Max interrupted, finally having reached them. "Hey, guys." She glanced at Sherlock, taking in his appearance. "Uh... do you have a change of clothes?"

Sherlock frowned. "No," he replied. He glanced down at his outfit- his usual dress shirt and pants- then looked at Max. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, and her hair was tied up in a ponytail- clearly dressed for tennis. "It doesn't matter."

Max nodded, even though she still looked apprehensive. "Right," she agreed. "Okay, let's go, then." She nudged John playfully, then she and Sherlock headed off.

John waited until they were out of earshot to give Sarah a proper kiss. "Thanks for squeezing them in," he said. "I know you didn't actually need subs."

Sarah grinned at him. "It's okay," she replied. "I want them to get together just as much as you do." She threw an arm around his shoulders. "Now let's go kick some ass on the courts."

000

Meanwhile, Max had introduced Sherlock to their opponents, Rachel and Adrian. "They've been dating for four years," Max was telling Sherlock, but based on his expression it didn't seem like he particularly cared.

Rachel smiled at them. "And how about you two?" she asked. "How long have you been together?"

Max and Sherlock shared an awkward look. "Oh, we're not-" Max started.

"We're friends," Sherlock interrupted.

"Yeah, we're just subbing," Max added.

Adrian and Rachel shared a look. "Oh," Adrian said. "Right. Well, er, shall we get out there?"

Max nodded. "Yeah," she agreed. She glanced at Sherlock. "Are you ready?"

Sherlock picked up his racket from where it had been leaning against the bench. "Let's start," he agreed.

Rachel popped open the can of balls, and she and Adrian headed over to one side of the net. Max and Sherlock walked over to the other, Sherlock dragging his feet slightly. "Deuce or ad?" Max asked.

Sherlock blinked. "What?" he replied.

Max looked at him blankly. "... Right side or left side," she simplified. "You... you've played tennis before, right?"

He scoffed, as if that was a ridiculous question. "I'll take the right side," he told her, hefting his racket in his grip. Max nodded, then jogged over to the left side of the court.

On the other side of the net, Rachel bounced the ball, preparing for her serve. Max watched as she caught the ball and held it against her racket. "Love all, first serve," Rachel called.

They were all silent as Rachel took a deep breath to ready herself. Then she tossed the ball up into the air and served it over the net with simple elegance. The ball came towards Sherlock as he raised his racket in preparation for the shot. He swung...

... and he missed.

Rachel and Adrian shared a look, and Max glanced back at Sherlock. "What are you doing?" she whispered. Sherlock looked at her, almost sheepishly, and suddenly she realized the answer. "... you've never played tennis, have you."

Sherlock grimaced. "Never," he admitted.

Max blinked. "You've got to be kidding," she said. "Why did you-"

"Is everything okay over there?" Rachel called.

Max glanced over. "Yeah!" she replied. "Sorry!" She turned back to Sherlock and sighed. "We'll talk about this later."

As Max had expected, the first set was over quickly, without her and Sherlock even getting a score on the board. Max had held her own, but Sherlock had missed most of his shots, and those few that he hit either went into the net or were horribly, horribly out. Now, with the beginning of the second set, Max was preparing to return Adrian's serve.

The ball came flying over the net, and Max returned it with ease. She and Adrian hit it back and forth, baseline to baseline, falling into a comfortable rhythm as they read each other's moves. It was beginning to seem like the point was going to stretch on forever when suddenly Max stumbled over her feet. In an attempt to return the ball she flicked it up over the net, a weak return that ended up heading straight towards Rachel.

What happened next was so quick that Max wasn't entirely sure how it had happened. All she knew was that Rachel had smashed the ball back, sending it flying over the net at an impressive speed, and somehow- somehow- it managed to hit Sherlock square in the face.

He went tumbling to the ground.

000

"I'm fine, really. I'm fine."

"Sherlock, your nose is bleeding."

"I said I'm fine."

Max and Sherlock were sitting on the bench by the side of the court, their rackets propped up on the net. Sherlock was holding a handful of tissues to his nose to prevent the flow of blood from dripping onto his clothes, scowling out at the distance. Max's arms were crossed as she sat next to him, looking at him reproachfully out of the corner of her eyes every few moments.

"I need more tissues," Sherlock said.

Max raised an eyebrow.

He sighed. "May I have more tissues?" he amended.

Wordlessly, Max passed him her tissue pack, and he took it.

"... Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," she replied.

Neither of them spoke for a second, but then Max gave him a look. "Why did you pretend to know tennis?" she asked.

Sherlock scoffed. "Oh, please, it's not like it's a hard sport," he said.

Max looked at him in disbelief. "Says the person who got hit in the face!" she exclaimed.

He scowled. "I was still warming up," he grumbled. "I would've figured it out in a few more minutes."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," she agreed sarcastically.

They lapsed into silence, sitting there side by side under the sun. Max closed her eyes, feeling the breeze against her face and listening to the sounds around her- the gentle hum of the city traffic, the murmur of conversations blending together, the rhythmic sounds of the other tennis matches still going on. It was peaceful here, far removed from the chaos of the workplace or the dangers of Sherlock's crime scenes.

Speak of the devil, Sherlock shifted uncomfortably beside her. Max glanced over at him and saw that he was switching out his bloody tissues for new ones, dabbing at his nose in a succinct manner. He seemed to be unfazed by the injury- granted, in his line of work he probably had much worse- but she was still worried about him.

She had been upset after the whole thing with Irene- after all, she had been beginning to feel something for Sherlock, and then in just one afternoon she had realized that nothing would ever really happen between the two of them. It had been on her mind for the past few weeks, and then today, meeting Rachel and Adrian and being surrounded by all the other couples... it made her think of what she and Sherlock could have been, if only things had been different. She hadn't realized how much she had wanted that until now- how much she wanted things to be different.

But despite that, she found that it was nice to be sitting here with Sherlock, neither of them saying a word but enjoying each other's company anyway. It was alright to be just friends, she realized now. And she was glad that she was Sherlock's friend- there was never a dull moment around him, after all.

"You're not mad that we lost, are you?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

Max gave him a look, torn out of her thoughts. "What?" she replied in surprise. "No! I don't care about that sort of stuff."

He adjusted the tissues on his nose, seeming slightly annoyed that he was still bleeding. "You've been quiet," he said.

She shrugged. "Just thinking," she told him. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking the question. "You wouldn't want to know. It's nothing earth-shattering. Quite mundane, actually."

Sherlock turned away, his attention already moving onto other things. She watched as his gaze went to Rachel and Adrian. The couple was sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the court, talking amicably about something or other- most likely Sherlock getting hit in the face. "He's going to propose," Sherlock commented. "I'd give it a month or two."

Max raised an eyebrow, a grin on her face. "A thirty day margin of error?" she asked teasingly. "From the great Sherlock Holmes? I never thought I'd see the day." He gave her a look, and she nudged him playfully. "Just kidding."

Sherlock scowled. "Five weeks," he grumbled. "Happy?"

She laughed. "Happy," she confirmed. "Is she going to accept? The proposal, I mean."

He glanced at Rachel, reading her in his usual manner. "No," he decided. "She's not ready to settle down."

Max nodded, accepting his answer. "Well, that sucks," she mused. She gestured to a couple playing on the court next to them. "What about them?"

Sherlock followed her gaze. "Oh, they're already married," he said. "They're going to have four kids and live happily ever after." He scowled. "How boring."

They continued to amuse themselves with people-watching, going from couple to couple- after all, they had a lot of time to kill, since their match had ended prematurely with Sherlock's bloody nose. Eventually they had gone through everyone on the courts, including John and Sarah- Sherlock was convinced that they wouldn't last much longer, and Max was inclined to agree- and now they were back to sitting in silence, watching the other matches and relaxing under the sun.

"You never answered my question," Max said suddenly.

Sherlock glanced over at her. "What question?" he asked.

She gestured to the tennis courts. "Why you pretended to... well, to know how to do all of this," she answered.

He was silent for a moment, thinking on her question. "John asked," he said simply.

Max gave him a look. "Since when do you do what John asks?" she challenged.

Sherlock scowled. "Most of the time he asks for boring things," he replied.

She raised an eyebrow. "And this isn't boring?" she asked.

He scoffed. "Oh, it is," he told her. "Sports are always terribly dull. But I knew you were going to be here, and when you're here things are slightly less tedious."

She blinked. "I feel like that's a compliment, but I'm not completely sure," she said. "Was that a compliment?"

Sherlock smirked, an annoyingly smug smirk. "Oh, it is," he replied.

"Hey, Max, Sherlock, how are you two- bloody hell!"

The two of them turned around to see John there, looking at Sherlock's nose in shock. "Oh, hey Johnny boy!" Max greeted cheerfully. "How's your match going?"

But John was still hung up on Sherlock's nose, apparently. "What happened?!" he demanded. "I left the two of you alone for less than an hour-"

Sherlock scowled. "I'm fine," he said, repeating what he had been telling Max for the past few minutes.

Max shrugged. "It was pretty funny, actually," she commented. "The ball just came at him, and BAM!" She mimed getting hit in the face with a ball, then falling against the bench.

Neither of them seemed to appreciate her description.

"We're starting the third set after a quick break over there," John told them, gesturing back to his court. "We'll be done soon. Just... just don't get into any more trouble, will you?"

Max rolled her eyes. "No promises!" she called after him as he walked away.

She and Sherlock sat there in silence for a moment, but then she turned to him. "Sarah didn't need us to sub," she said. "I was talking to another couple and they told me that they were just called to play yesterday too. So they didn't actually need us."

Sherlock nodded. "John," he said in explanation.

"John," Max agreed.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, but then Max laughed. "I had fun," she said.

Sherlock glanced down at her, a hint of a smile on his face. "Me too," he replied.

She gave him a look. "But we're never doing this again," she stated.

"Oh, definitely not."