Bated by CrazySockGirl.
221B Baker St.
John had decided he would continue to ride his bike after he was done at work in order to know how well the padding worked when he procured his new attire. He refused to think about the idea of dinner with his new tailor. He would not admit he was unnecessarily intrigued by the man he'd met the day before. The man who made his breathing stop when he looked at him. No, John Watson was not one for carrying an infatuation with males. And yet Sherlock Holmes was all John could think about during his deliveries. It wasn't until he had arrived in front of 221B Baker St. that he realized he had been in his head not thinking about what he had been doing, this worried John and he fully didn't process that he was in front of Sherlock's home till he saw Sherlock open the door.
"Hello John, come in." Sherlock said. There was a lady standing not far from Sherlock. She appeared to be older than Sherlock, but not elderly. Not his mother and-
"Sherlock, I am your housekeeper not your landlady. Please let me do my job." the woman said.
" , you might be my housekeeper, but I would prefer to do some things on my own. Besides, my brother is the one who hired you to be my housekeeper. I would much rather you be here simply for the company." Sherlock said. Then he turned back to John and gestured for him to finish stepping inside.
John was not sure what to make of the two, but could tell that the woman did think highly of the man due to her not being all that serious about scolding Sherlock.
"I'm up the stairs." Sherlock said closing the door and stepping in front of John to lead him up the stairs. As they walked up the stairs Sherlock turned and whispered to John and said "She is also superb at helping me with my stitching when I take on too much work at a time. I don't know what I would do without her." His volume increased with his final sentence and he flashed a smile at John when they heard a contented humph from below. "Did I mention the biscuits? It's really just the biscuits." Sherlock said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"I heard that!" said from below with a smile clearly heard in her voice. With that, Sherlock turned back and finished climbing the stairs.
He waited for John to make the rest of the trek up before opening the door and following him inside his work room. It was bigger than what John had imagined, and more cluttered as well. He saw the outfit Sherlock had made for him and immediately went over to it. It was one of the nicest outfits he had ever seen made for the sole purpose of being ridden in to deliver packages.
"Sherlock I-" John wasn't sure what to say and even if he had when he looked at the man behind him he would not have remembered. The man now in front him was beaming and clearly quite sure of his abilities.
"Try it on, I need to make sure it fits you the way it needs to. Then after that you can ride your bike and tell me how it feels. I'll be right outside. Most of my customers prefer that." Sherlock stepped out of the room leaving John a bit stunned and with a feeling of deja vu. Pulling himself together, John striped and tried on the new clothes. It was all he could do not to vocalize his satisfaction in not having any trouble getting the clothing on. When he was dressed he opened the door ready to commend Sherlock for his amazing work. He stopped upon opening the door and stared at the tailor.
"Problem?" Sherlock asked, lowering the cigarette away from his mouth.
"No not really. It's just, I didn't take you for a man who smoked." John said. "Anyway, this outfit is magnificent Sherlock! I had no issue getting it on. I can't thank you enough."
"Well John, you can at least see if the padding works with your bike, before you start thanking me. Then, if you have not made plans, I would like to restate the offer I made yesterday for dinner." Sherlock said with a voice that was a bit more passive than previously. He had disposed of his cigarette by this point and was now inspecting the outfit on John to make sure the stitching was right and not pulling. That it fit him in all the right ways. It made John slightly uncomfortable being looked at so closely by the man who had consumed his thoughts most of the day, but shook it off knowing that he should not be worried when there was another task to be done.
"Oh, Sherlock this is magnificent!" John yelled at Sherlock as his rode up and down the street. He could barely feel the metal against his shoulder, it registered only as a faint pressure. John stopped riding and parked his bike getting off and walked over to Sherlock. John was breathing hard. He hadn't been able to ride so fast on his bicycle for so long that he had forgotten how much fun it was. "Thank you Sherlock I don't know what to say." John said.
"Hungry?" Sherlock asked.
"Starved." John replied, still unable to remove the smile from his face.
Before they left for the restaurant, Sherlock had John change back into his old clothes so he could make the final changes. John was still so excited for his new clothes and just being around Sherlock. When they arrived at the restaurant they were greeted by a gentleman who seemed to know Sherlock. He was a loud sort of man and had a kind face.
"Sherlock! Anything you want I make for you and for your date." The man said.
"I'm not. I, uh." John said not wanting to offend the man now sitting across from him, but not wanting things assumed about himself.
"This man got me out of making an utter fool of myself at my wedding." said the man, clapping Sherlock on the shoulder.
"I helped a bit. John this is Angelo. On his wedding day he almost went out with his tuxedo falling apart showing his pants." Sherlock responded.
"If not for this man I would have been an utter embarrassment to my fiancée of the time, who is now my wife." Angelo said with a bit of a laugh.
"Yes, well."Sherlock muttered as he picked up the menu.
"I'll get a candle for the table more romantic." Angelo said and walked away. This made John look more like a fish out of water than he had been before, but with a small hand gesture from Sherlock he calmed down. John was not sure why he did, but this man had that effect on him.
"So, Sherlock, how long have you been a tailor? You seem to be the only one who will take someone with an issue with his or her limbs." John asked once he had ordered his food. He was also curious as to why Sherlock had only gotten water, but it was not his place to ask.
"I am the only one who takes on case such as yourself. I have been in the business since I was fourteen. When I was younger I would just try and make clothes and things from my fathers ties and socks. It wasn't until I had gotten to all of his socks that my parents finally gave in and started purchasing cloth for me to use." Sherlock responded. "What about you, John? What made you want to be a doctor, and then a carrier when you could no longer do the former?"
"Well I always wanted to help people growing up and the best way I could find to do this was to be a doctor. After the injury I wanted to still help people in their daily lives and with my arm well I can only do so much..."
John was still not used to talking about his injury. He realized that with Sherlock it was much easier. John would have continued, but Angelo had returned and was whispering in Sherlock's ear. Angelo had a sad look on his face when he looked at John before he left again. Sherlock was only sad in his eyes, the rest of his face carried no emotion.
"It seems that I am being summoned." Sherlock said with a voice that was tighter than John had ever heard it.
"Who's summoning you?" John asked, more disappointed than he would like to admit.
"One of my clients is due to be traveling soon and their neighbors cat got ahold of a large portion of their cloths and I need to determine whether I am to fix or recreate the clothing. It seems that our... dinner is to be cut short."
Sherlock stood up from the table, but before he left and John was able to stand up he said one last thing, Sherlock asked but turned away before John could respond. Perhaps Sherlock was able to read his answer solely from how his face changed. Regardless, "I do apologize John. Perhaps we can try again another night or possibly brunch in a fortnight?" John was left with half a plate of food, a candle, and an empty seat across from him. John was not as happy now as he had been two minutes ago.