"I finlly get to get rid of this sling today," John announced happily once he'd settled down at their table.

"That's great!" Mia replied with enthusiasm.

"Well yes and no," John warned, "now the real work begins... I've been through all of this before."

"Physio?"

"Yes. It's torture. Not because it hurts, but because it takes so long and you just want to go back to normal as quickly as possible."

"Well your patience will be worth it. And then maybe you could avoid getting shot again?" she added playfully.

"Yes, I've learned my lesson," John replied with a grin. He loved the way she made him feel – just seeing her made his day, every day.

They settled into lunch and she began chatting about her morning. John found it difficult to concentrate. His mind kept wandering back to the conundrum of this evening's pending event. John was nervous – extremely nervous... that much was obvious to him. He was nervous to the point of illness and had no way to alleviate the sickly feeling deep down in his stomach. All he could think about as he looked across the table at the beautiful woman who was chattering on about her best friend's upcoming wedding, was that, in a just a few short hours, that beautiful young woman was going to be leaving him. It happened without fail every, single, time: John finally gives into his girlfriend's request to meet his mysterious flat-mate – about whom he not only keeps a blog, but also manages to talk about incessantly – she has one conversation (if a few sharp remarks from Sherlock can be called a conversation) and she runs for the hills.

Only a few short weeks had passed, but already John had begun opening up to Mia. He told her things both about the war, and himself, that he'd never told anyone – not even his therapist. It was so much easier to talk to Mia. He had, in her, a truly compassionate ear. She sat quietly and listened and actually seemed genuinely interested. With Mia he didn't feel as though his sanity was being judged – as he did with his therapist – and he didn't' feel as though he was wasting her precious time with tedious details – as he did with Sherlock. He felt that he had found exactly what he needed... a true confidant and friend. What was even better, was that Mia treated him that way too. She had told him all about her life, about being the only child whose parents had very high expectations, about feeling alone, and about her dreams and ambitions.

One day she'd opened up and told him how – though she had a few close friends – she'd never gotten this close to anyone this quickly before. "I don't understand it, John, I just feel that we click somehow... do you feel that way too? It's ok if you don't, you can be honest." She was always saying thing things like that; encouraging him to be honest and really meaning it. She never got upset at something he'd been honest about – only about things he'd been dishonest about. After their third date he'd lied and said he liked the movie, she called him on it and told him to never do that with her. "You can't build any relationship on lies, not even little ones..." She'd told him, "If you don't tell me exactly how you really feel, those little things will begin to add up. Then what you're left with is a big problem."

John had taken her views on honesty to heart and even used it a couple of times on Sherlock. To his surprise, the sleuth did correct the offending behaviour (John made sure that Sherlock knew that the return of body parts to the fridge was 'not good') – though initially the comments were not well received.

In answer to her question about feeling the same connection she did, John had wholeheartedly told her that he did feel that same way and that he enjoyed the feeling.

They'd covered all kinds of likes and dislikes in the first two weeks of their acquaintance and found that they had different, though also similar, tastes in everything from music to movies to food – it was the perfect mix. It was a different kind of dating: seeing Mia every day for a casual lunch rather than twice a week for a formal date added a very nice dynamic to the relationship, it was like one on-going conversation and he looked forward to those lunches more than anything else. This style of dating was also nice because it kept John from feeling guilty about leaving Sherlock.

The lunches were at a time that John usually spent away from 221B, so it wasn't interfering with their lives at home at all. It was a good thing, because at the moment Sherlock was driving him nuts. The man would continually disappear in the early morning and not tell John where he'd been. Experiments now littered not only the kitchen, but also the living room. He desperately needed a case. He had never, EVER, gone this long without one and John was beginning to fear his flatmate was going to do something desperate. John felt that he was needed at home and he was glad that his outings with Mia could still happen. Everyone was happy. As much as he loved spending time with Mia, she was by no means a replacement for Sherlock. Despite his erratic and annoying behaviour, John still looked forward to going home to the crazy detective. Even though there were no pressing cases, John didn't mind running around London with Sherlock in the evenings practising the science of deduction and listening to Sherlock insult people. He had managed to do one small favor for his flatmate and begged Lestrade to give Sherlock some cold cases to toy with. It wasn't really Sherlock's thing, and usually irritated him to no end because in his mind: "The detectives who worked on these cases were complete idiots! No wonder it didn't get solved! They didn't keep any of the relevant evidence!" but at least it kept his fantastic mind occupied. These thoughts of Sherlock brought John back to the moment at hand... Mia was going to meet that genius lunatic tonight. Sherlock had been pacing the flat like a caged animal for weeks, he'd set up copious amounts of experiments, and even found John's gun and shot the wall a couple of times – again. What would he do tonight when he had a new person around to toy with?

He sincerely hoped that Mia would be different from the others – that she would be able to stand Sherlock in small doses and stay with John. Though he didn't like to admit it to himself, he felt that she was an important part of his life now and that he needed her. Not like he needed Sherlock, but she was still something quite special, and he didn't' want to lose her yet.

John found himself wildly trying to think of an excuse... any way that this dreaded meeting could be avoided... but nothing feasible came to mind. Nope, she's going to have to meet him, he thought with a sinking feeling, Well, better to lose her now – before I've fallen in love with her – than to wait too long. After all, Sherlock is a big part of my life. If she wants to be with me then she'll have to be able to put up with him too... If she really likes me she'll be alright with that... John shook his head at his own ridiculousness, who am I kidding? No woman is going to be willing to play second fiddle to Sherlock...

"So you won't come?" Mia asked looking both surprised and hurt.

"What?" John asked snapping back to reality. "I'm sorry?"

"I just invited you to be my 'plus-one' to Allison's wedding," she explained, "You shook your head."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said honestly, "I must have gotten lost in my own head. Of course I would love to go with you!"

"Oh, good. I'm glad," she said with an enchanting smile sounding relieved. Her pale, sea-foam green eyes searched his face.

John smiled in return and reached across the tiny round table to take her hand in his. Mia's heart fluttered at the contact as John settled his beautiful blue eyes on hers. She loved the laugh lines around his lips and the way the light shone in his eyes. She also loved the feel of his gentle touch as he laid his strong hand over hers and squeezed it lightly to let her know that he was now listening.

"So," she said after a moment, "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," he lied, "Probably nothing I need to worry about."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you though," John said and leaned across the table to kiss her cheek.

He loved the smell of her perfume – vanilla and brown sugar. It was so faint he could only smell it on the rare occasions he got close enough to kiss her.

Mia was fantastic. She was everything he was looking for: she was smart, sweet, funny, relatively laid-back, caring and easily forgiving. She was also passionate about life and work and loved complete honesty – she never pressured for information because she would rather that John not tell her anything than tell her a lie. John found her completely fascinating – not to mention unbelievably attractive – there was just one small problem... she wouldn't let him get close to her.

Late in the evening on their first official date – dinner and a movie – John had escorted Mia home, paid for the cab, and walked her up to her doorstep. Seizing the moment, while they stood there looking at each other in the dull light of the street lamp, he'd leaned in slowly to kiss her. As he leaned in, though, something had seemed off; she looked... alarmed by the gesture and, at the last moment, turned her head ever-so-slightly so that the kiss landed neatly on her soft, warm, cheek.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

"No, it's fine," John had replied, trying to assure her despite his confusion. Did she not like him? Had he misread the signs? Bad timing?

"It's just that... I've never really dated anyone before," she confessed. "And, I'd rather not kiss you on our first date... I'd like to get to know you a bit more first."

"What?" John asked in complete shock, taking a step back from her. He'd hardly heard the second part of the statement. His mind had frozen after: 'Never dated anyone before.'

She looked a little shocked and hurt by the reaction, but John couldn't help it. "How old are you?" he asked outright. The question sounded far more accusatory than it should have.

"Twenty-eight," she said defensively, looking at him now with an unreadable expression.

"And you've never dated before? Never?" His first thought was that it was some kind of joke. This couldn't be happening. It didn't make any sense, she was beautiful and sweet and... really? Never?

"Never," she repeated, "I'm sorry if it's a problem." She said, not really sounding sorry at all. She wasn't ashamed of her inexperience, but she was hurt by John's obvious problem with it.

"No, it's not that," John said gently – trying to make amends for his outlandish reaction, "It's just... very difficult to believe."

"Why?"

"Well, I mean... other than the obvious... most people at least attempt some form of dating – no matter how trivial – in high school... and then university, well, you know what university is like..."

"Ok," she said with a sigh, "Well if you call that dating then I suppose I have a little... I just mean that I've never ever been in anything close to a serious relationship. I wasn't allowed to date in high school, so, of course, I rebelled and snuck out with a boy on lunch hour at school and hung out with him in the locker bays, but it never went anywhere other than a very awkward first kiss. In university I was a workaholic so I never really bothered with dating, I went to the cinema a few times and that's it. To be honest though, no one was every really interested – I wasn't exactly gorgeous – and the two or three boys that I did go out with were sweet but... not really my type... I've never been into insecure guys and I will never understand anyone who is that obsessed with comic books and videogames." She said with a shrug. "And now, well, since I've been in the working world I just haven't found anyone I really took a liking to... except for you of course. So I'm counting this as my first real experience with dating and I don't want to mess it up by getting physical right away."

"Oh, I see," John replied, not really sure that he did understand her logic.

"And what did you mean by 'besides the obvious'?" she asked then, referring back to something he'd said earlier.

"I mean, well," John had stumbled, "You're beautiful," he confessed. It was the first time he'd actually told her what he'd been thinking since the moment he set eyes on her.

Her fairy-eyes softened and a light blush powdered her cheeks making her even more attractive. She leaned in and brushed her soft lips against his cheek, "Thank you John," she added.

The moment had been so intimate, so charged with deep emotion. Her body, for a moment so close to his, had had John practically trembling with desire. At that moment he'd wanted more than ever to kiss her. He felt that the feel of kissing her would be unlike any other romantic experience he'd ever had, but he managed to keep himself under control.

"It's the truth," he responded breathlessly. John had no idea a simple compliment meant so much. He was going to have to remember to give them more often.

"I'm sorry if my... inexperience... is a problem for you," she had added quietly, this time actually seeming a little upset with herself.

"No, it's... it's ok," John said honestly. "You're actually not the only person I know who's nearly thirty and has never been on a date." His mind flashed to the anti-social genius with whom he shared a flat.

"I'm glad to hear that," she said with a relieved smile.

"I'm sorry if my reaction seemed a little... harsh," he fumbled.

"No, it's fine," she replied gently.

"Ok, well, we'll just take things slowly," he said, taking her hand in his.

"And you're really ok with that?"

"Yes, of course," John replied. It wasn't what he was used to, but maybe that was the problem. Maybe he needed to have a relationship that didn't get physical immediately. Maybe getting to know her before being physically intimate with her would help them both. John had never had a truly meaningful relationship. Already – after only a couple of lunches together and a first date – he felt like he cared more for her than he ever had for any woman this early in a relationship. He just never really put himself out there to get attached. There was no way he was going to let this treasure slip away without trying his best to fall in love with her.

"Good," she said then, "because I really like you, John."

John's heart warmed in response, "I really like you too," he'd stated, being painfully honest. He'd watched her go into her apartment and then returned to the awaiting taxi.

John had learned quickly after that, that Mia's pace was very slow indeed. Hand holding, back rubbing, a casual arm around the waist... these gestures were fine. They were the kind of comfortable, casual, touch that John was allowed to give without hesitation. Kisses, though, kisses were special. It was a new dynamic that John wasn't quite used to. Kisses were given sparingly, but somehow they meant so much more. Mia kissed him when he said something sweet or when she was feeling especially close to him – though occasionally spontaneous, they weren't ever casual. Every one still sent shivers down John's back and left him burning for more. How could he get desensitised when she didn't kiss him enough to allow that to happen? It reminded him of Chinese water torture and he wondered how long it would take before she would be comfortable enough with him to do more than just kiss.

"So, is there anything I should know before I meet Sherlock?" she asked him then.

"You've read the blog," he said, "So you already know that he's a lunatic."

She smiled, "Yes. But one you seem to care an awful lot about," she added without jealousy, "I want to make a good impression."

"That's kind of you, but honestly, you don't have to worry about it. Sherlock always makes a miserable impression."

She didn't reply, but her eyes laughed at him.

John sighed, "I guess all you really need to know is to not take any of his remarks personally, and to ignore most of what he says."

"Ok," she said uncertainly, "You really think he's that terrible?"

"Oh I know he's going to be that terrible. He's Sherlock, it's what he does. He's not a people person."

"Then why do you put up with him?" she asked with evident curiosity.

"Because..." John faltered, "Because he's my friend. He helped me a lot just after I got back and... it's difficult to explain." I need him, sounded too intense. He couldn't go around telling his girlfriend that he needed his male and potentially homosexual flatmate. Somehow he just didn't think that would go over well.

"Ok, just one more thing..."

"Yes?"

"Why hasn't he been working on any cases recently? You haven't updated in weeks."

"Oh, I don't know to tell you the truth. He's been acting a bit weird lately... ever since the explosion – "

"What explosion?" she asked in alarm.

"Oh, I forgot that this isn't in the blog..." John sighed, "Sherlock is blind. He lost his sight a little over four months ago in an explosion."

"What?! Is he alright? How is he dealing with it? Wait... four months ago... but you were only shot a little over two months ago..." he could see her trying to do the math and figure everything out.

"Yes, he's gotten accustomed to it and he still works on cases."

"But how can he do what he does when he's blind? I thought he relied on his sight for most of his deductions?"

"He did, but as you're soon going to see, he's Sherlock... and there is no one quite like him."

They finished their lunch – John in relative silence and Mia more talkative than ever and incredibly excited about their evening ahead. She'd asked him some more questions about the great detective to fill in the blanks surrounding the knowledge she's already gained from the blog. They left the café together and she walked him to the hospital.

"I'll see you tonight," she said before she left him.

"Right, I'll pick you up at seven," he said as his mouth went dry. The tension climbed up into his shoulders and his stomach grumbled angrily as the nervousness settled there once more.

She waved at him with a smile and disappeared around the corner.