"Excuse me, you want me to do what?" John asked, setting down his cup of tea.
"You heard me," Sherlock said holding the recording in his hands.
"You want me to go on a date with a possible murderess?" John stated, making sure that he had gotten the words right.
"You did hear me."
As he brought his attention back to the recorder, John stared at Sherlock, dumbfounded. John had a way to have dates end up being a disaster because of Sherlock's cases, but never in his time living at 221 B Baker Street had he ever been asked to date someone. Not even someone, but a probable murderer. To be completely honest, this was the most absurd thing Sherlock had asked of him.
"You do know she could be the killer."
"Precisely," said Sherlock, pronouncing each syllable. "I do not understand why you are not happy about going on this date, John. It might be the most on edge date that you have ever been on. Isn't that why people date, so they can have excitement?"
"I'd rather have a lifetime of boring dates, than to have a single exciting one."
"Oh please John, you want this, I know you."
"You're kidding, right?" John asked, looking at Sherlock. There was an awkward pause before he added, "Of course not. You have no sense of humor."
"I wouldn't go that far."
"All my dates end poorly." John sighed as he leaned himself back in his chair.
"Why would you say that?" He clearly did not want to know about what what makes John's bad dates, however Sherlock need to hear someone talk. It was one of those days that a distraction from work was good. These moments were few, but he had to distract John long enough for Mary Morstan to knock on the door.
Sherlock had set up an account on a dating website for John. He made sure to delete it after he had arranged for Mary to meet him. Mary, being single and having too much time on the internet, immediately said yes to the date. Sherlock didn't see Mary being a desperate woman. Like most women in London, she knew very well who Dr. John Watson was.
He would not tell John this. After all, he knew too well that the blogger would react poorly.
"I don't know, maybe girls don't like to be deconstructed or have near death experiences?"
"Now you don't have to worry about that now, do you?" Sherlock said as he pressed the play button on the recorder.
Pain-filled cries for help echoed around the room in mysterious whispers, too slurred to understand what really needed to be said. It was clear, however, that there was a woman crying at one bit, but it almost didn't appear to be pleading.
"Why's that?"
"Because she would be expecting near death experiences already if she is the murderess. If she was the murderess there wouldn't be time for a second date, would there?"
"You will be watching in case she is the murderess."
"Nope," Sherlock made sure he popped the p as he made his way to the door.
"Why not?"
"I have to go to Bart's immediately."
"Really? We are going to Bart's at this time in the night?" John asked, incredulous.
"Wrong again, I am going to Bart's. You are going on a date." Sherlock continued down the stairs even as he spoke
"What, that is not possible. I have not even scheduled a date!" John nearly yelled.
"Of course you didn't, I did." The door closed leaving a confused John Watson standing on the staircase.
"Sherlock got me a date," John muttered softly, "I have never seen him so bored."
John was about to enter the flat again when there was a knock on the door. Taking in the most amount of courage he could, he walked down the stairs. He didn't understand how he managed to bring himself to open the door, but he did in the end. In front of him was a woman with short pale blond hair, light brown eyes and an alarming blood orange coat. John couldn't help but feel this odd attraction towards the woman. Her face was friendly and her smile had warmth that John rarely felt. John might have thought at that moment that he sensed the instant connection that one may feel when meeting their life partner. Even with a kind voice he heard the words that would make him feel otherwise.
"Hello, I am Mary." She said with a sweet smile.
John could have died at that moment, at least if Sherlock would have allowed it. Of course she was Mary. Of course she was attractive. Of course she was the murderess. Of course he did not display any of his regret, instead he was the proper gentleman that he thought himself to be.
"Of course you are," John muttered to himself, low enough that she could not hear him.
"Excuse me, what did you say?" she asked, scrunching up her face, which John found slightly adorable. She's a killer...
"Would you like to come in?" John asked, remembering his manners.
She nodded and she entered. John stared outside the door for half the second, regretting ever opening it in the first place.