Thank you for all your kind reviews and comments, I hope this chapter is okay for you guys :D
The day seemed to drag for John, as each second ticked by the buzz of the upcoming meeting was getting to him. Every couple of hours John's thoughts kept returning to the strange man. Every few hours his mind wandered, staring into to space. His mind imagining different men answering to the name of Sherlock.
John became more and more jittery as the dinner date approached. Stepping into the shower, John washed his body paying attention to his sexual organs, even though he knew Sherlock didn't want sex. John reached and turned the shower off. Grabbing his towel he exited the cubicle. John sat on the edge of his bed, towel wrapped firmly around his body. John brushed and dried his hair, styling the ends in order to make himself look good for his mystery man. John pulled his best shirt from the cupboard along with some slimming black jeans pulling the clothes on himself with minimal effort. His eyes were drawn to his bedside draw; where he kept his army issued Sig Sauer P226R gun. He so desperately wanted to take his gun with him, but on a 'date' really? The gun would definitely make him feel more comfortable.
John weighed up the pros and cons of bringing his gun. He felt that the cons were less than the pros. He pulled his gun from the drawer and placed it in the back band of his trousers, hoping dearly that he wouldn't need to use it tonight.
He scanned the room to make sure he had ever thing he required. Phone, wallet and keys were in his pocket and the taxi to the location had also ready been pre-booked during the day. John was raring to go and meet his client. The loud beep from the taxi's horn alerted John that the time had come. Deciding to leave his cane by the door, he walked out slamming the door behind him.
Sherlock was sat at the table next to the window, giving himself the perfect view of any taxis coming past. He had arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes early to get the best table. The glass of red wine that Angelo had placed in front of him had remained untouched. As the clock approached 7pm Sherlock began to feel apprehensive that J. Watson was not going to show, such a strange feeling for Sherlock who normally locked his emotions away. Sherlock had only ever contacted a male prostitute in order to talk to once before, it hadn't gone well. Sherlock had pretty much given up on the idea of having a friend until he saw J. Watson's ad in a telephone box one evening. As Sherlock played with the cutlery a taxi swiftly approached the side of the restaurant, the car halted and the door opened. Sherlock observed as a short man exited the vehicle. The blonde hair man glanced up at the name of the restaurant, checking that this was the right place and proceeded to the door.
As John entered the restaurant, he was greeted by one of the staff; a middle age man with graying hair.
"Hey has a Mister Sherlock arrived yet?" asked John.
The member of staff nodded, gesturing John to follow him over to the table by the window. Just as they reached the table the man spoke;
"I'll get you a candle for the table, more romantic"
Neither Sherlock or John protested.
Sherlock immediately stood up straight to welcome John. He held out a hand towards the blonde man, John shook his hand with a firm grip. John raked his eyes over Sherlock's slim body. John was impressed by the amount of effort Sherlock had clearly put into his appearance; clean crisp black suit trousers with an accompanying purple shirt, top two buttons undone. John wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.
"Good evening, Mr. Watson"
"Hello there, I'm John Watson. You must be Sherlock" replied John.
"Naturally" answered Sherlock, quickly mentally berating himself for sounding so rude to John.
John gently smiled at Sherlock's abruptness. This did much to calm Sherlock's nerves. As both men sat down menus were placed in front of them by Angelo with a single white aflame candle. They ordered their meals, conversation was slow to start; small was needed to introduce themselves.
"So you wanted to talk?" asked John as they waited for their meals. Sherlock was going to explain his thought process for contacting John but decided to deduce him instead.
"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock inquired, holding his wine glass to his bow shaped lips to take a sip.
"I'm sorry, what?" asked John staring blankly at Sherlock.
"Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists - you've been abroad but not sunbathing. The limp's really bad when you walk, but it seems like you have forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That suggests the original circumstances of the injury were probably traumatic - wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan - Afghanistan or Iraq" explained Sherlock watching John's face careful to see if he had offended the other man.
John paused for a moment before answering.
"Wow, that's quite a neat trick you have there" commented John.
"It's called deduction, it's not a trick" Sherlock slightly hissed back at John.
"Well what ever it is called, it's quite brilliant" grinned John as Angelo placed their meals in front of them.
John began to dig into his meal with his cutlery, the food smelled very divine. After the first couple of bites, he noticed Sherlock wasn't eating more sort of pushing the pieces of food around his plate. The two men locked eyes with each other.
"Eat your food, Sherlock" gently commanded John. Sherlock did as he was told. Sherlock never did as he was told. John and his personalty was having a weird effect on Sherlock.
John was eager to learn more about the man sat in front of him.
"Tell me about yourself" asked John. Sherlock cleared his throat before answering.
"I live alone in a flat. I have a landlady called who acts more like my mother. I also have an annoying brother called Mycroft, he is very into to cake and umbrellas. I work as a consulting detective, working free lance cases" stated Sherlock.
John didn't really know how to reply to that, it just made Sherlock a more intriguing person, mysterious in his ways.
"What about you?" urged Sherlock, in an attempt to keep the conversation flowing.
"Well I think you explained my life story for me" joked John. Sherlock smiled, he had never meet anyone who was so willing to accept his deductions without becoming annoyed at him. He could see himself quite liking John.
The night flowed well, both men were getting on like a house on fire. As the evening came to an end, John pulled out his wallet to pay for his half of the meal. Angelo stepped towards them letting them know that their meal and drinks were on the house. Bidding goodbye to Angelo, both men stepped out of the restaurant. Sherlock pressed a roll of notes into John's hand. John glanced down to see what Sherlock had put into his hand.
"Your rate for your services, plus a tip. Thank you for a great evening John" softly spoke Sherlock. John was just about to hand the cash back; he couldn't accept the money it would be like taking advantage of a lonely man. Before John could do this, Sherlock had already hailed a cab and was gone. Limp faded, John decided to walk home. It wasn't too far. As John strode home, he passed a homeless man and handed him some of the cash he had received from Sherlock; it seemed only fair.
If there are any mistakes sorry! I look forward for your thoughts and comments :D