Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Oh, so you want more, eh?

Then you shall receive more.

Here's the second chapter. Do enjoy, as I was up early this morning with the kiddo and I can barely keep my eyes open.

Sit back and enjoy!

Love always,

Avoline


He pulled the bow across the strings, experimenting with the notes until he found the combination he wanted, then stopped long enough to chart them down on the blank sheet music. This tune was actually quite cheerful, and he was smiling the whole time.

In all honesty, he had not stopped smiling since the night before.

Whatever magic had conspired between Annabelle and himself, it was still affecting him. He had slept well, and was still smiling when he awoke. He knew instantly that he had to compose a piece for her. Maybe she enjoyed the violin as much as he did. Maybe she enjoyed music in general. She could quite possibly be the singing type.

His grin widened as he set his chin against the instrument.

"You're in a good mood today," John stated as he walked into the kitchen. "What happened last night while you were out?" The taller man set his violin down and trotted to the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

"I met a woman," he answered gleefully. The blond's eyebrow rose to his hairline.

"A woman," he responded skeptically. "And what makes her different from the rest of them?"

"I'm not sure," Sherlock replied. "But she's definitely different. There's just that something about her, and can't put my finger on it just yet." John shrugged and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

"Maybe it's best if you didn't know," he suggested. "Otherwise she'd become just another woman."

"Says the man who can barely tell his ex girlfriend's apart," the brunette scoffed.

"Just don't look too much into it," John reiterated. "It's nice to see you grinning like a fool for something other than a murder."


He called her at about three in the afternoon. He remembered her saying that her shift ended by then, and he truly wanted to spend time with her again. He felt so relaxed around her the other night. He wanted to experience that again.

"Mr. Holmes, to what do I owe the pleasure," she greeted, causing him to laugh.

"I was wondering if you do me the honor of having dinner tonight," he answered. He heard her giggle through the phone.

"Is the great Sherlock Holmes asking me on a date," she questioned.

"Are you stunned," he countered lightfheartedly.

"A bit. I would think you would be busy with another murder."

"Not for another week. This last case was a bit challenging, and I'm basically taking a holiday." Her laugh reached his ears, making his smile grow.

"Pick me up around five," she instructed. "And wear your best. For I shall be wearing mine."

His heart was pounding when he hung up.


He stood before the door to her flat, his palms nearly pouring sweat. He had never been on a date before, and had it not been for John, he would have worn a full suit and bow tie. He took a deep breath and raised his hand.

It's now or never.

He pressed the buzzer, glancing around as he did. Maybe he should just bow out now. She would never notice, and he'd probably never bump into her again.

The door opened, and he looked up to see a sight reserved for the lucky.

She was wearing a deep purple cocktail dress, the fabric hugging her body just right. It was one shouldered, something he was sure she would regret later, and it stopped just above her knees. Her black pumps made the purple that much more noticeable, and the black handbag told him all he needed to know. Her hair was styled perfectly, and the polish on her nails matched the shade of red on her lips.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss her right now.

"Right on time, Mr. Holmes," she smiled, and he returned that smile. He stepped back as she closed and locked the door, and offered his arm, just like the night before. "So, what treat are you bestowing upon me tonight?" He chuckled and opened the door to the cab.

"You'll see," he whispered, allowing her into the vehicle first. "To Harwood Arms, please."

"Harwood Arms," she inquired.

"Best restaurant in London," he replied. "You'll love it. Good British cooking and fine wine." She gave him an astonished smile.

"You're pulling out the best, aren't you?" He grinned and kissed her cheek.

"You did say to wear my best. I almost went black tie."