We get to the restaurant and I am surprised to say the least. He took me to one of my favorite restaurants! But, I do know Sherlock, which means he must have asked…
"John, I asked John." He says, "I guess I wasn't very observant about that." I smile at his innocence.
"Table for two," I say to the man in the front.
"Right this way," he says and leads us to a small booth for two, away from the chatter of the diner.
"Thank you," I say and Sherlock and I sit down. I pick up the menu and start to look at it, but Sherlock just sits there.
"Okay, you have to eat! You're not on a case." I place the menu back on the table.
"I'm not hungry," he says.
"Yes, you are. And you are going to eat, okay?"
"Fine, but only for you." I blush. "And John." He adds as an afterthought. I groan.
"Oh right, I shouldn't mention John."
"Good." We look at the menus for a while until the waiter comes. I order the fettuccini alfredo and Sherlock gets a small salad. I glare at him.
"At least I'm eating." I grin at him, pleased he's trying to impress me. We chat about the case of the woman on the bed and Sherlock says that he thinks I should stay away from the case because he thinks the killer is targeting me.
"That's redic-actually quite possibly, but I should just be around more, because I know the most about this man."
"Yes, but I don't want you to get hurt."
"Sher, that's sweet, but I have to. I need to find this guy and murder him."
"No, I can't let you do that." He runs a hand through his hair and looks at me, with those eyes that could make me melt. "I can't lose you."
"Come on, Sherlock! You met me like a month ago and this is our first date! I would worry more about your lifelong best friend, John, than me!"
"Yes, but you're different." He doesn't go into detail, so I shrug it off.
"Okay, so we've seen two of these women, well, I have seen two, you have seen one. What can we make of this?"
"I honestly don't know. We know that she was probably sexually tortured-" I cringe, thinking of my mum in that way.
"No, I know. Consider my emotions blocked." I say. I take a second to do just that, then I motion for Sherlock to continue.
"And that I could have possibly been directed at you."
"Oh, you don't know that, well for the first one maybe, but the second case was not at all directed to me."
"Possibly, because the murderer knew that Scotland Yard would come to me and guessed that you would come."
"But that's a stab in the dark! How could they ever know that?"
"It's possible that they knew that I liked you," Sherlock says matter of factly. I blush again.
"Yes, that is a possibility, but it is highly improbable."
Our food comes and Sherlock takes his salad and I say, like a prying mother, "What do you say?"
And Sherlock, being Sherlock, mutters, "Thank you." I grin at his lack of manners.
"So, besides talking about recent murders, what else do people do on dates?"
"Well, first off, you're not even supposed to be doing that and I'm pretty sure most of what couples do in dates wouldn't suit your fancy."
"What do they do?"
"Talk about themselves and make out."
"Yes, not really my idea of 'fun.'"
"We could be creepy and deduce people around us." I say.
"Now that sounds better."
"Okay how about that couple over there? She wants to break up, but he won't let her. Probably cheated on her and is denying it."
"How can you know that?"
"Oh come on, how do you not!? He is leaning towards her and holding her hand. He is subconsciously rubbing her ring finger, could be unrelated, but more likely he wants more out of the relationship. She, however, is leaning away from him and not looking him in the eyes. She doesn't trust him, probably from the fact that he cheated on her. He has a box in his pocket with the name, Jessica. Her name is Samantha and I know that because I heard him say that. See, you see but do not observe." I quote Sherlock, just to make him mad.
"Yes, but Jessica is his sister. The gift is simply wrapped with no sense of romantic intentions. Also, the tag flipped open and said, 'Jess, Happy Birthday. Robert.' No 'love,' no anything. So obviously not a romantic interest."
"Then, explain the body language." I raise an eyebrow.
"Exactly the problem you had, she thinks he's cheating on her."
"Yikes, that sure sounds very not fun."
"How would you know? You've never been cheated on! You only dumped a murderer! Which in my opinion was a very good choice." Sherlock smirks.
"Thanks, I guess." We finish up our meal making small talk. Outside, it had gotten considerably colder than usual and I shiver.
"Are you cold?" He asks.
"A bit, yes." He slips his trench coat off and places it around my slim shoulders. I snuggle into warmth of the thick jacket.
"Thanks," I say, surprised a bit by his gentlemanliness.
"Anything for the lady," he says and I knew.
"You got that from the telly."
"Yup, sorry," I glance over at him and see that he is looking guilty. I give him a playful shove.
"Hey, just cause you're a genius, doesn't mean you know everything."
"Uhh, actually it does." I smirk; the "other" Sherlock was back.
"Oh here's our cab." He holds the door for me and let's me step in first.
"Why thank you. But you really need to stop watching so much telly." I grin at him and he grins back.
We get back to the flat, with me happier than I've been in a long time.
"That was a lot more enjoyable, then I thought it would be."
"Well, then. My job is done. I'll see you tomorrow." I place a quick peck on the lips and go to my flat. And of course, yet someone else has broken into my flat.
"John! Oh my gosh! You guys have got to stop breaking into my flat."
"Sorry," he says. I throw my keys into the bowl, drop my purse, and hang up the jacket I'm wearing. Which happens to be Sherlock's.
"Um, are you wearing Sherlock's jacket?"
"Uh, yes I am. He was watching crap telly again."
"Oh, that explains it. So I came here to ask how the date went."
"It was pleasant. I had a nice time." John looks surprised.
"Oh I thought he would be just horrible on a date."
"No he was fine. But I did have to remind him to say him please and thank-yous."
"Well, that sounds more like him,"
"Yeah, so it's been nice. Knock next time. Have a nice night."
"Okay, Ana. I'll leave. Sleep well."
He leaves and I close the door behind him and push a chair up against it to make sure nobody else gets in. I shower and get dressed in my pajamas. I go to sleep dreaming about warm blue-green eyes, but I wake up thinking about cold brown ones.