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Chapter 14

John watched Sherlock disbelievingly. "You JUST solved a case Sherlock. How can you possibly be bored?"

"That was yesterday John. I haven't done anything productive today. All my experiments are on hold, and there is no case. Entertain me John."

John sighed again, not for the first time thinking of how much Sherlock resembled a child. Then he got an idea. "Okay then, get dressed. We're going out."

"Great! Where are we going?"

"To a club. And not a bloody elite-club this time. We're going to do what normal people do to have fun. Wear something nice." John suddenly became very excited about his idea. It would be fun to see Sherlock out on a real club, drinking and dancing. He would be sure that Sherlock would protest, but the detective just went straight into his bedroom to change his outfit. Surprised, John followed his lead, and ten minutes later they were both ready.

John eyed Sherlock almost hungrily. The man had certainly taken John by his words. He looked amazing in his dark-blue shirt and black pants. He smiled at John, who went straight up and kissed him. He would never get over the sensation of Sherlock's lips against his own, and it was with a wide smile they made their way to the club that John had in mind.

Sherlock, who usually didn't drink at all, seemed to have decided that this night was an exception. He gladly accepted every drink that John handed him, and he certainly didn't seem bored. He laughed and smiled more than John had seen in a long time, and his affection for the other man just grew stronger. He was so beautiful when he smiled, that John wished he could etch the picture into his memory forever. Sherlock did most of the talking, and John just sat there, watching him, and allowing himself to revel in his own happiness. He couldn't believe how his life had changed in such a short while. He laughed when Sherlock started to deduce embarrassing stuff about the surrounding people, and he found it hard to resist snogging him right there.

But, as it was a very rare occasion, Sherlock didn't need a lot to get tipsy, and pretty soon he was way more than that. John certainly hadn't anticipated this kind of a reaction to a drunken Sherlock, but it seemed like just a few drinks were enough to get the detective to dance on the tables. Literally.

As the evening proceeded, John had had to drag him away on several occasions, when it looked like he was about to deduce himself into a bar-fight with men who looked like they could snap his neck with their fingers. Most recently, Sherlock had proclaimed to a large guy that his wife was cheating on him with his brother, and John had taken a hold of Sherlock's arms and quickly retreated out of sight while Sherlock snapped his fingers at the guy in a very bitch-like manner. John sighed and decided that enough was enough. But Sherlock seemed to think otherwise.

When "Bohemian Rhapsody" started playing, Sherlock once again took his place upon a table and started to sing along. And god, his voice was beautiful. It sent shivers down John's spine and he found himself almost enchanted. And when Sherlock started to sing along to the guitars, John couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation. Sherlock, who never drank, never made a fool of himself (at least not like this), who always wore those damn suits, now stood on top of a bar-table, completely plastered, scream-singing to a Queen-song. He certainly was a man full of surprises.

When the detective eventually retreated from the table, John took him by the shoulders and said softly "Sherlock, I think that it might be enough now. Let's go home and sleep now, shall we?"

But Sherlock pouted and looked extremely like a five-year old. "But Joooohn" He dragged out the name, making it sound even more childish "I want to stay John. Just one more song, please?" And when he looked at John with his large puppy-eyes, John couldn't resist him. "Okay fine, ONE song Sherlock. But that's it." Sherlock smiled at John, or at least in John's direction, since his eyes seemed to have a hard time to focus on something for longer than a second. Then he grabbed John and dragged him out on the dance-floor. And damn, the man could dance. Even when drunk, Sherlock seemed perfectly coordinated and his every move was gracious and elegant. John started to wonder if there was anything Sherlock couldn't do, when said man leaned in and whispered in John's ear "We can go home now John."

"Okay thank you Sherlock. You probably need to sleep this off if you're going to function properly tomorrow."

But Sherlock raised his eyebrows at John, and still in a whisper he said "Oh John, sleep was not at all what I had in mind." Great. A drunk and seductive Sherlock, just what he needed.

John sighed, but he couldn't shake the mental images produced by Sherlock's word. Not being able to talk anymore, he just nodded and they made their way out of the crowd and onto the street, heading home. Sherlock kept stealing kisses from John, which made it difficult to walk, and it took twice as long for them to get home. When they finally arrived at Baker Street, they had barely made it into the flat before they were all over each other, and John couldn't help but think that his idea had turned into a very successful night.