SHVoLB 5

(A/N: Dadadidaaa! The long awaited shopping trip! XD)

Escalators are very strange and frightening contraptions. They'd have to be in order to startle Sherlock Holmes. Monica had already mounted the great moving staircase, not thinking of their inexperience. She looked behind her to see the two men standing there, staring at it with uneasiness. People were starting to crowd up behind them so Watson gave Holmes, who happened to be standing in front, a gentle shove towards the escalator.

Monica laughed outright, "Come on then, Mr. Holmes. It's not as bad as all that!"

He gave her a defiant scowl before cautiously stepping onto the thing. He realized soon enough that this could not be handled as a regular staircase as one leg was awkwardly stretched behind him on a lower stair as the rest of him ascended. Watson chuckled at the sight of him to which Holmes responded, "Alright then, you try it!"

Watson warily obliged and found that he disliked escalators almost as much as cars. He, from observing Holmes, knew to keep both feet firmly on one stair and soon they were moving along steadily to the second floor of what Monica had called a "mall". She had already gotten off and it was nearly Holmes's turn though he looked frightfully at the track which was disappearing into the floor like a bad dream.

"Just jump off," Monica instructed to which Holmes gave a wide eyed look, "That's how I did it," she shrugged and as Holmes approached the end of the escalator, he took too long in his jumping, his feet catching at the edge and Watson stumbled into him, causing them both to fall over like dominos.

Monica could barely stand for laughing as she tried to help the two of them to their feet. The men dusted themselves off and clung onto any tiny shred of dignity that they had left as other mall-goers stared at them and chuckled under their breath. The staring was not new, however. They had been stared at since the moment they got out of the car, realizing for the first time how much they stood out in the modern world. It was amazing to see the lack of clothes people went around in: men and women wearing pants cut off above the knee, some people's pants were even badly torn, and shoulder length sleeves! Society of their time would have found this unforgivably scandalous but here, no one so much as batted an eye.

They followed Monica through the bustling building, staring through the windows of the stores that lined the walkways of this "mall". Suddenly, she whipped around, surveying Holmes and Watson with keen eyes before saying to the detective, "I know just what you need! Come on, we're headed to my favorite store." She took off again, this time at a faster pace and it was all Holmes and Watson could do not to get lost in the crowd.

They finally came to a stop outside a store called "Hot Topic", out of which they could hear more blaring music as such that was played from the little music contraption in Monica's room. Holmes ventured in first, Watson following and they looked about the small shop in amazement. There were odd sorts of dark clothes and some with neon colors and a vast assortment of fingerless gloves and hats as well. The man standing behind the counter with long dark hair and multiple piercings nodded his appreciation.

"Wow, looks like we got a couple of Steam Punk guys," he commented with a grin, "Coolness."

Holmes and Watson looked confusedly at one another and then smiled in response to the cashier. Monica had run off to the clothes and returned with a pair of the trimmest pants either one of them had ever seen.

"You need these," she urged, forcing them into Holmes's hands.

"B-but…" he stammered as he examined the black material.

"Go!" she ordered, "Trust me!" She gave him a shove in the direction of a dressing room.

Holmes looked reluctantly back at Watson as if begging for support but the doctor merely lifted a hand to wave. With a grimace, Holmes disappeared into the small changing room, swearing vengeance.

"Now for you," Monica began, turning to Watson, "I'm thinking these jean ones. They're not quite as tight I don't think but they've got nice British flags on the back pockets."

"Oh I don't know about…"

"Holmes is cooperating…surprisingly…and so should you!"

Being a gentleman, Watson realized he had no room to complain. This girl was doing them quite a favor when she could have just left them to fend for themselves. And so, he accepted the pants just as he heard a familiar clearing of the throat come from the direction of the dressing room.

He turned and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Holmes stood there, his head ducked in either shyness or pure mortification in his new trousers. They clung to him so tightly they might have been painted on and they had tiny silver skulls on the edges of the pockets.

"Wow," Monica said as she joined Watson in a stare, "You really do have amazing legs."

Watson, ashamedly, had been thinking the exact same thing. And then she said, "Turn around."

Holmes's head snapped up, "What?"

"Turn around, I said."

He grumbled under his breath as he turned and Watson felt a hot blush flood his cheeks.

Monica whistled at the sight of his…substantial… backside and said, "Okay, you are getting these pants and I don't want to hear a word against it."

"But…I mean, are you sure…?"

"You look fantastic. Watson, tell him he looks gorgeous in those pants." Watson, who had been in a near trance like state, had to be nudged before he responded in an all too breathy voice, "You look gorgeous."

Holmes lowered his head again, hoping they couldn't see the pink creeping onto his cheeks, "I'll get them on one condition," he said finally.

"And what would that condition be, pray tell?" Monica asked with her arms folded across her chest.

"You have to let me get some normal trousers as well."

She laughed, "Alright, agreed. Go back and get dressed, it's Watson's turn."

"Oh is it?" he asked, a mirthful grin spreading across his face as he disappeared into the room once again.

Holmes and Monica picked out some shirts while Watson changed and Monica took this opportunity to do a little investigating.

"So um…how long have you and Watson been…together?"

Holmes smiled to himself, "Going on thirteen years, I think."

Monica was gob smacked. Surely she had expected as much but to hear it straight from Holmes was still a surprise.

"We met in our early twenties," he continued as he sifted through racks of clothes, "Common acquaintance…ah but you already know that. You're a reader of Watson's work, aren't you?"

"Yes, an avid reader," she replied absently as her mind was already whirring at the soft expression that had come over Holmes's face when he was speaking of Watson.

They heard the door to the dressing room open then and the doctor stood there looking thoroughly embarrassed. The tightness of the jeans made him look even taller and thinner than before and Holmes found himself caught up in the baffling length of Watson's legs.

"You're sure this is the fashion?" he asked self-consciously.

"Yes and you look very good in it," Monica said, silently applauding her expertise.

Watson sighed, "If you say so." He turned to retreat back into the dressing room and Monica gave a squeal of delight at the British flags.

"I'd almost forgotten about those," she said, giggling at the width of Holmes's eyes and he wondered to himself how exactly she could have forgotten. He found them highly distracting indeed.

They continued their shopping which brought about normal sized pants and a few much pleaded for button up shirts and many t-shirts. After a while of walking, however, Watson began to feel the ache in his leg which bemoaned the absence of his cane. Holmes, ever the perceptive detective, picked up on the little flinches of Watson's features every so often and confronted him.

"You're in pain, aren't you?" he asked.

"No, it's not so bad," Watson lied with a forced grin.

Holmes was, of course, not convinced. "Lean on me," he said, more of a demand than a suggestion.

"Holmes, I'm fine," he protested but the other man grabbed Watson's arm and flung it over his own shoulders, his arm winding itself around Watson's waist. The doctor's eyes grew wide and he could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"Good lord, and you said you weren't suffering," Holmes commented with a tsk, "I can feel your pulse pounding with the effort."

'If only that was the true reason,' Watson thought to himself. This day's venture had brought around some very curious thoughts indeed.

Monica chanced a glance over her shoulder and it took everything in her power not to let out a girlish giggle. 'It's only a matter of time,' she thought, 'Only a matter of time.'

(A/N: Oh the slash, it is emerging XD Comments are adored!)