4 weeks later

Scotland Yard

"How did it go?"

"Fine," Sherlock said, buttoning his jacket as he and John headed down the hallway, towards the lobby.

"I'm surprised they didn't offer you a job."

"They did."

"And?"

"I appreciate your sense of humor," Sherlock said, smirking. "Third time Lestrade's asked."

"Why on earth do you say no? We have rent to pay on our flat, you know."

"He only offers because he knows I won't take it," Sherlock said, glancing at John. "And he knows I won't take it because I don't want it. I don't want to play their little detective game…I'd be spending more time filing for search warrants and filling out paperwork, anyhow."

"I see," John said as he and Sherlock stepped outside the building, making their way through the crowd towards on sidewalk. "How's Molly?"

"How would I know?"

"Yes, and I don't suppose you've been going to St. Bart's twice a day just to check up on your experiments..."

"They're extremely important, which is obviously above your level of comprehension," Sherlock said, quickening his pace as a sharp gust of wind blew against their faces. "You're just imagining things."

"Am I?"

"Yes," Sherlock said quickly. He paused, glancing down at his feet. "So how's Sarah?"

"What?"

"How's Sarah?"

"Oh. Well, she's not…I mean, we're not exactly…"

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It wasn't the anniversary thing," he paused, biting his lip. "It just…wasn't working out."

"I'm sorry," Sherlock said quietly, stopping as he looked past John to the street beside them. "I mean...I'm sorry for not asking before." John smiled, meeting Sherlock's eyes as he glanced at John.

"Don't worry about it."

"Sherlock Holmes?" A woman seated on a bench beside them asked. Sherlock and John turned around, watching as the woman stood, smoothing out her coat. "I was hoping I'd run into you."

"It looked more like you were waiting."

"Well, yes," she paused, adjusting her sunglasses before she spoke. "I wanted to thank you."

"For?" He said, raising his eyebrows.

"I think you know." She gazed at him, her lip curving into a small smile. "I know my father would want to thank, too. If he were here." She turned to John, extending her hand. "You too, Dr. Watson. Lestrade didn't forget to mention you."

"Thank you," John said, shaking her hand. "Grace Novikov, isn't it?"

"Grace Anderson. Changed my name just…just in case," she said quickly, glancing at Sherlock. "The Ministry insisted."

"It's for the best. Your father would understand, I'm sure," Sherlock said.

"Yes. Well, thank you. And thank you, Dr. Watson."

"Please, call me John," he said quickly.

"Alright. John," she said, smiling. She turned to Sherlock. "What I'd really like to ask you is if there's anything I can to do repay you. My father did leave me with a decent amount of money in his bank accounts…I mean, it's the least I can do…"

"No," Sherlock interrupted quickly. "No, neither of us could do that, Miss Anderson."

"Please. It would make…"

"We couldn't," John said. "You don't owe us anything."

"You're just as stubborn as they make you out to be," she sighed, glancing at Sherlock. He glanced at John.

"Well, there is one thing," he said, a small smile crossing his face.

"Anything."

"You could let us take you to lunch."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm hungry. And I'm sure John feels the same…how about Beetons?"

"Of…of course," Grace said slowly, giving him a confused look.

"John? Up for a sandwich?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm starving," he said, equally confused.

"Perfect," he paused, reaching in his pocket for his phone. "Huh. Can you believe that?"

"What?" John said, leaning over to look at the screen. Sherlock quickly slipped it back into his pocket, adjusting his scarf.

"Looks like Lestrade needs me back at the Yard for questioning. John, I'm sure you can handle Grace on your own"

"But Lestrade already…"

"Grace, I apologize. You'll have to eat with this poor bachelor by yourself," Sherlock said, patting John on the back. "Well, have fun you two."

"Sherlock, I…" John called after him as he continued down the sidewalk.

"You'll thank me later."

221B Baker Street

"Sherlock!" John called up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. "Sherlock!"

"Yes?" He mumbled, holding a pillow over his head as he lay on the couch.

"I can't believe you did that," John said as he entered the room, sitting in the chair across from him.

"You can't? I'm surprised at you, John."

"But I wanted to thank you."

"Good. I deserve it."

"We're meeting again…"

"This Saturday, I know. Speedy's, or the Italian place on Pont?"

"Speedy's." John said, shaking his head. "I don't know why I bother telling you these things. I hardly need to."

"Exactly my point." He rolled off the couch, walking towards the window.

"Although you could've left out the poor bachelor part."

"I was telling the truth, was I not?" He sighed, pacing across the rug. John smiled, propping his feet on the ottoman.

"You're a bit restless today."

"No more than usual."

"So you're just pacing for the exercise?"

"Perhaps."

"Take a walk."

"No. I'm thinking. Too many people outside to think," he said, gazing into the street below.

"Well, you could…"

"I went to check on my trisulphate experiment at St. Bart's while you were out."

"I assumed so."

"And Molly was there."

"Obviously," John said, raising his eyebrows. "She had nothing to do with your visit, I'm sure."

"What…what do you do?" Sherlock said suddenly, turning around to face John.

"Do what?"

"That's what I'm asking."

"I mean…do what when?"

"When what?"

"You tell me."

"But I asked you first…"

"Sherlock, you're going to have to be a bit more specific," John said, watching as he continued pacing across the floor.

"What do you do when…I mean, how can I…" Sherlock looked at John helplessly.

"Do you like her, Sherlock?" He asked, looking up at him.

"Yes."

"Then ask her out. On a date."

"I can't."

"You did a fine job setting me up with Grace."

"I…I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I haven't," he said quietly, glancing at the floor. "I haven't done it before." John stared at him.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Never? Not in school?"

"No."

"So you've never dated? Jesus, Sherlock, you're how old?"

"I never said I hadn't dated. I just said I hadn't asked anyone"

"What, a blind date?"

"College. Sophomore year."

"What happened?"

"None of your business."

"Oh," John said, glancing at Sherlock, who had stopped pacing. He gazed out the window as rain began to fall, darkening the sidewalk below. "Is that all?"

"Yes." He said, looking at John. "Please, just…how do you do it?"

"Ask her out to lunch. To coffee…it doesn't have to be a big deal."

"What if she says no?"

"Sherlock, trust me. She won't say no," John said, shaking his head.

"You think so?"

"Yes. I'm positive."

"So I just…ask?"

"Yes. It's relatively simple."

"Well then, I think my trisulphate is done freezing. I'll be down at…at the hospital," he said, fumbling with his coat.

"It'll be fine. I promise."

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," Sherlock said, turning to face him as he wrapped his scarf around his neck.

"You're welcome," he said, watching as Sherlock disappeared down the stairwell.