John Watson's Blog
June 8, 2011
Tired. So, so very tired. I can't begin to describe how tired I truly am. I'll post the case later. For now, it's off to the clinic!
I'm looking forward to seeing Emma again, though I'm so very tired. Have I mentioned I'm tired? I'd like to connect with her in the next few days. See if there is any spark. Thankfully, she never mentioned the kiss when I had left to meet Sherlock. I hope I didn't take it too quickly!
After a long night in the morgue, followed by a full day of clinic hours, John was dragging. Completely exhausted, he would have been happy enough to return to his flat, crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Unfortunately, he had promised Emma he would meet her. When John gave his word, no matter how difficult, he kept it. As his work was ending, he received a message from her.
"Coffee?"
John read the text and sighed. He did not really feel anything for this woman. Emma was beautiful and, when she did speak, she was obviously intelligent. Yet, to John, there was something missing, something off. Believing that he was merely making excuses to cancel their date, he shrugged the feeling off and returned the text, "Yes. When and where?"
Emma responded, "Pret A Manager. 7?"
John glanced at the clock. It was six already. A wan smile crept over his face. The break would be nice. "See you then."
One hour later, John was rushing to the coffee shop. Though initially blaming Sherlock for his tardiness, John was beginning to wonder if he was purposefully dragging his feet to meet with Emma. Reaching Pret A Manager, he glanced around and frowned. There was no sign of her.
Heading into the coffee shop, he found there were only a few tables open, and those were quickly filling up as more and more people trickled into the place. John was about to return to the curb when he nearly ran into Emma. "So sorry." he apologised.
"No, I should be sorry, John. I'm late." Emma responded with a slight frown.
John opened his mouth to explain that he too had been late, but decided to leave well enough alone. "Shall we?" he pointed to one of the few remaining open tables. Emma slipped into her seat, her back facing the wall. John remained standing. "What would you care to drink?"
"Vanilla latte, please." she said while reaching into her bag for money.
John held up his hand. "Please. Allow me." he insisted before leaving her to order their coffee. After paying for the drinks, John glanced back at Emma. She was staring out the window. He followed her line of sight, but whatever it was she was looking at was just past the shop's windows.
Once their coffees were ready, John rejoined Emma at the table, sitting down across from her. They smiled at each other. For a few moments after, uncomfortable silence reigned. Eventually, Emma broke the silence, "How was work?"
John looked up at her to ensure that she genuinely cared and was not asking to merely be polite. "Fine, good, actually. Though, it was a long day. I'm exhausted, really."
"It was that busy?" Emma asked in surprise.
"No, not at all. It was a rather slow day. It's just..." he began. "After dinner last night, I joined Sherlock in that case. It ended up being a late night." He sighed heavily.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes. What happened?" she asked in nearly a whisper.
"Oh, you wouldn't be interested, would you?" John asked her.
"Yes, please. Tell me what happened." she replied.
"Alright. Well, I met Sherlock, for what I assumed was a murder. But when I arrived, there was no body." he began.
"Aren't there supposed to be bodies with murders?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Well, yes, actually. The inspector, Lastrade, that is, wasn't there. Some new inspector, who did not wait for Sherlock. He said, well the short of it is he moved the body." he continued.
"Really? How did your friend handle that?" she asked.
"Who, Sherlock? Oh, he was irritated, annoyed." John took a sip from his cup. When he placed it down, he could have sworn there was a flicker of a smile on Emma's face.
"Did you ever find the body?" Emma asked.
"Yeah, eventually. Though I had to go to two different morgues and through a lot of people that apparently had no clue what they were doing." He sighed again, rubbing his eyes.
"And Sherlock...he was happy when you found the body?" she asked, glancing out the window briefly.
"Yeah, I suppose so." John said slowly, curious why she was asking such questions.
"He seems to be very in control of his emotions. Not exactly..." she hesitated on finishing.
"Human, you mean?" John asked with a smirk.
She gave a small smile, looking slightly embarrassed. "That does sound rude of me."
John laughed. "Actually, you aren't the only one that feels that way." He recalled observing the interaction between Sherlock and Anderson. Anderson, don't talk out loud, you lower the IQ of the entire street. When he looked back up at Emma, she was watching him with curiosity. "Sorry." He knew his mind was drifting from lack of sleep.
Emma reached across the table, tenderly touching his hand. "John, you must be tired. Go home. Rest. We can meet again at another time."
John could not help but smile broadly. Emma was very kind to end the date early for his benefit. "Thank you."
The two rose from their seats, cups in hand, and headed out to the curb. Awkwardly, they said their goodbyes and parted ways. Though it was not a long date, John felt better about seeing Emma.
John Watson's Blog
June 9, 2011
Museum 'Case' of the AWOL body
I finally have a moment to tell about an amusing case Sherlock had. It took place in June, at the museum. I was right in the middle of a dinner date with Emma when Sherlock rudely texted me that I should come immediately. At first, I was going to ignore him. Honestly, the body could wait. Ha! Emma was very forgiving for allowing me to reschedule our date. Odd thing though, I kissed her before I left. She never said anything about that kiss, but for a time I was afraid I had overstepped my bounds. Thankfully, all is well now.
When I arrived at the museum, Sherlock was pacing on the front steps, as a tiger at the zoo. And he was annoyed with me. Me! He interrupted my date, yet he was annoyed. Sherlock certainly is one of a kind.
Yes, as the title suggests, there was no body, much to my amusement. Sherlock, no surprise, was not amused. Lestrade was on leave and the interim inspector had moved the body. According to Sherlock, someone disguised their voice and called, claiming they were the Super. The 'Super' had requested the body be moved immediately, before Sherlock arrived.
Though it was funny at first, until I noticed Sherlock's impatience grow. We needed to find the body, so, without a moment to lose I raced over to the morgue to locate and examine it before more evidence could be tampered with.
The body was that of the chairman of the board for the museum. Suspicions were on the museum director, who was being forced to retire on a low pension, the curator who had been recently fired, a guard, a general staff employee of thirty years and the members of the board.
Everyone believed the murderer was the guard. The guard had been involved in a long affair with the general staff employee's wife. The museum director had met with the guard, told him he knew what was going on and it needed to stop. If the guard refused, the director threatened to tell the employee. Somehow, the employee found out and both he and the guard got into a scuffle. landing them in the ER. The guard had motive, but it wasn't him.
Sherlock later discovered the museum had a few random artifacts missing, such as one of a pair of elephants, Statue of Tara, and the Indus seal. The inspector believed it was the curator who had stolen the pieces, as an act of revenge for being fired. I reminded him that the director could also be a suspect as he was forced to retired early. Sherlock somehow knew the missing items were merely to setup the curator as the murderer.
Turns out, it was one of the members of the board. Apparently, the chairman and the CEO were planning to sell the museum to a company (cannot specify due to legal issues) which planned to level the place then build apartment buildings. The board discovered this, held a private meeting without the chairman and decided the plan must be stopped. Needless to say, though it was a 'unanimous' decision, one man carried it out.
Though extremely tired, I was able to meet with Emma for coffee. It was nice just sitting and chatting with her. No pressure. Unfortunately, my weariness showed. Emma was kind enough to allow me to return home and rest.
I have a good feeling about this relationship. The more we have been able to see each other, the more she seems to be interested. I will be meeting her again for coffee tonight and will hopefully be able to take her out again this Friday or Saturday.
Comments
The title, John. Appalling.
This blog of yours is a complete waste of time. Trust me. Your entries are merely 'we did this' or 'they did that' and so on, as if you were writing a novel. My work is anything but! You've barely mentioned the players. I am, of course, referring to the suspects. It pains me that I even have to explain. What about the evidence? The reader has no clue as to how I arrived at the answer.
And, btw, it was a Kakiemon Elephant, part of a pair of 17th century Japanese porcelain figures. Details, John, details.
SH
Bravo, John! Good to hear you've adjusted.
Mike Stamford
Thanks, Mike! Sherlock? Stuff it.
John
If you didn't want my input, you should have changed the settings to prevent comment.
SH
Done :)
John
And...undone.
SH
Despite Sherlock's predictions, John continued to see Emma. Combing his hair down quickly with his fingers, before Sherlock could say a word, John had grabbed his coat, rushed down the stairs and headed to the Marble Arch bus stop.
Sprinting, he squinted as the bright sun shone over the street and did his best to avoid both cars and people as he navigated his way towards the bus stop. Though his muscles burned from the sudden run, John would not slow down.
When he finally arrived, he groaned. She was standing at the stop, waiting for him. Slowing to a brisk walk, he smiled at Emma. Trying to catch his breath, he waved as he called out, "I am so sorry."
A smile flitted across her lips. John felt she was not actually looking at him, but rather past him. "John, you apologise entirely too much." she said with a wink.
"Yeah," he chuckled. "I suppose I do. Sorry."
She grinned, hearing him apologise again. "John!"
He returned a broad grin. He was about to apologise again, but quickly closed his mouth. She gave a quick nod and turned in the direction the bus would be coming. When she glanced back, John thought for a moment that she was giving him a coy smile. He watched her, smiling in return.
"Right then. Shall we?" He said, as the bus arrived.
While the two quickly boarded the bus in search of seats, Emma was roughly pushed by a very tan, very tall man with dark brown hair. He growled low and the two exchanged looks. John moved to defend Emma, but was stopped when he felt her hand pressed against his chest. He looked at her, confused. She gave him a shake of the head, indicating that he should do nothing. Not entirely thrilled with the idea, John respected her wish and instead stood next to her, giving a menacing look to the stranger, both jaw and fists clenched.
After a few brief moments, the man walked away and sat down, still watching her. Emma did not react, other than to simply keep her eyes on him for a while. Eventually, she slipped into her seat. John remained standing for a while longer, his eyes still on the stranger. At last noticing that Emma had sat down, he followed suit.
"Do...do you know him?" John murmured to her. She shook her head very slightly and the two remained silent for a while as the bus sped off to it's next destination.
Soon after, John began to steal glances at Emma. Her brown hair was pulled up loosely behind her, allowing some loose strands to fall around her face. Emma did not seem to notice John's glances. He had not realised his eyes had been lingering until Emma suddenly turned to look at him. Her piercing green eyes bore into his. At first, John felt slightly uncomfortable by the sudden stare. Shaking it off, he offered another smile, to which she returned a small one of her own.
"I...uh, I hope you like the Gardens." John offered in conversation, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Emma's smile broadened and she replied, "I'm sure that I will. Thank you, John." She looked out the window.
John felt an unexpected warmth as her body touched his. He looked at her in surprise. Though she did not acknowledge it, Emma had moved close to lean against him. His smile widened with relief and pleasure at the thought and he, too, stared out the window, at nothing in particular.
Arriving at Kew Bridge stop, John offered his arm, which Emma took, and the two stepped out onto the street. It was only a few minutes walk to the Victoria Gate, though John wished it were longer. He had relished the idea that she was now by his side, her arm resting comfortably in his.
John had done research the previous night, purchased admission to the Gardens and had most of their visit planned in his mind. He first took her to the water lily greenhouse. Enormous lily pad's lined the center pool. The glass panes had various green vines growing up and across the frame work in the corners of the green house. The place was pleasantly warm.
Looking around the room and across the pond, his eyes scanned past who he thought was the man from the bus. Gasping in surprise, he looked back, but the man was gone. He frowned, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. Trying to take his mind off of the thought, John cleared his throat and read the information sign before them, "This green house was designed and built for the Victoria amazonica, the largest of the flowering waterlilies."
Emma gave a nod looking out over the pond. "These lilies have sharp spines hidden underneath. I find it rather attractive, how something so beautiful could hold a more sinister side."
John looked at her, surprised she knew anything about the plant and a little unnerved by her comment. Moving gently, he led her out of the greenhouse towards the treetop walkways. Within moments, they were standing in silence, looking over Kew Gardens from the walkway.
This time, it was Emma's turn to speak up. "Beautiful." She stated simply.
John looked at her and replied, "Yes."
Emma looked up at John, seemingly embarrassed, and smiled. Running her hand gently along the side of his face, she redirected his attention from her towards the garden. John blushed at the touch and at her hint to remain focussed on the view.
The remainder of the day, John did his best to learn more about Emma. Asking her questions, she eventually gave the answers that he desired. Emma told him she was originally from Auckland, New Zealand, as Sherlock had deduced. She had come to England with her parents when she was four years old, settling in Harrogate, Yorkshire. Her parents having since passed, she decided to move to a flat in London and work in a local clinic. She admitted to having an estranged brother, explaining that he had had an argument with their father and had run away from home. The cause had been her father's strict rules and her brother could no longer stand abiding by them.
As evening came, John and Emma walked back to the station, taking the bus back to the Marble Arch stop, near Baker Street. Again, the two remained silent during the ride. Once they disembarked, John tried conversing again. "Would you like to grab a bite?"
Emma appeared to hesitate, continuing to walk down Portman Street. John stayed in step with her, disappointment entering his heart. He had hoped their relationship was making progress.. Perhaps she just isn't ready. He thought woefully.
John was surprised when Emma stopped near Portman Square. Giving a gentle squeeze on his arm, she finally answered, "I would love dinner with you, John." Her green eyes seemingly glistened as they reflected the city lights.
John was elated at the turn of events. He had fully expected Emma to decline his offer and return to her flat. He wrapped her arm snugly around his and led her to one of his favourite local restaurants.
Choosing a small table outside, Emma made it a point to select a seat where her back was to the building. "I enjoy watching people." She explained.
John nodded in understanding and sat down opposite her.
"John, I'm not too hungry, really." she said.
"Oh, uh...well, if you don't want-" he began.
"No, no! That's not it at all." she interjected. "I'm sorry. I just meant...I don't think I could eat an entire meal. It would be a waste."
"Would you like to share a meal?" He asked, hoping she would agree as it might give a more intimate feel to their date. Otherwise, he would feel awkward eating while she watched.
"That would be lovely." She replied, presumably focusing on the people behind him.
After ordering their food, John began to feel self conscious about Emma's stares. At one point, he could not resist and had to turn around. He saw various people passing by, but no one that stood out so much as to capture her attention. Turning back around, he tried to start up a conversation, "Do you have any hobbies? Any interests?"
Emma sat, continuing to stare past him. She said nothing in response. In fact, it appeared she had not heard John at all. "Emma," he called out. Again she did not respond. "Emma," he said louder. Her eyes finally moved back to rest on him. "Your mind appeared to be elsewhere." He gave a smirk. "Reminds me of Sherlock, he does the exact same thing at times."
Her eyes narrowed at the mention of Sherlock. No longer did they hold a "far off" look, but appeared rather cold. John felt a pit in his stomach as she watched him. "Pardon?" She said quietly, her tone sounded anything but pleasant.
"I...uh, I meant, it's just..." John looked around, struggling to find the right words to dig him out of the hole he now felt he was in. "I know his meeting you was...well...Sherlock can at times be...uh..."
Emma lightly rested her hand on his. "John," she began. "It's alright. I understand what you mean."
John looked up and was surprised to find her cold look was completely replaced by a warm smile and sparkling eyes. A quiet sigh of relief, at that moment he felt very unsure of himself. Her hand squeezed gently, giving him the reassurance he needed to continue.
After finishing their light meal, John and Emma continued their walk down to Balcombe Street, where her flat was. Ever the gentleman, John wanted to kiss her goodnight, but did not want to push her. Emma was not like other women John had been involved with. She was somehow different.
Emma surprised him. After she had taken out her keys, she reached up to place a hand on the side of his face. "Thank you for a lovely evening, John." She said with a smile.
That one comment and smile from Emma was all the invitation he needed. John quickly leaned down and grazed her lips with a light kiss. "I had a great time." He whispered as he moved back.
"Goodnight, John." She said, unlocking the door and entering the building, leaving John to give a small wave and smile as she disappeared.
The walk back to Baker Street was a short one and the most enjoyable John had experienced so far. He spent the entire time imaging what the future might hold for him with Emma. John had initially been unsure whether to continue the relationship. There were times that she seemed distant, detached. But lately, that all seemed to have subsided she appeared to be fully into the relationship now. With a deep sigh and a broad smile, he made his way up the steps to his flat. He only hoped Sherlock was not home.
John Watson's Blog
June 12, 2011
Kew Gardens
I recommend it to everyone. The place was beautiful. Though, it probably helped that Emma was with me. :)
The date went really well. I find Emma to be charming, beautiful and intelligent. I really like spending time with her. In fact, we have been trying to see each other, if possible, a few times each week. On occasion, Sherlock thwarts, unintentionally I hope, the dates, but we usually find a way to make it up.
Emma said she would stop by on Saturday. We are planning to make a day of it at the London Zoo.
Comments
I do hope Emma takes care, considering the company she is currently keeping.
Anonymous
Who are you?
John
Merely an observer.
Anonymous
FYI, for those that read this blog, I will now be requiring an account prior to leaving comments on this blog.
John
At the knock, Mrs. Hudson answered the door with a broad smile. She knew exactly who the woman was. "Emma!" she exclaimed. "John told me you would be arriving. It is so good to finally meet you. Shall I show you to up?"
"Yes, thank you." Emma answered politely.
As the two headed upstairs, Mrs. Hudson in the lead, Emma took the opportunity to take a good look around. The entry way and staircase up to John's flat was plain and unimpressive. Still, she slowed to take in every detail.
Arriving at John's door, the landlady knocked. "Mrs. Hudson, why-" He started to asked, but stopped when he saw Emma behind her. "Emma." He said in surprise. "I, I...didn't realise you were already here."
Emma gave her usual small smile. "Hello, John."
"Please, come in." He said, moving to the side to allow the two ladies to enter.
"John." Mrs. Hudson tsked with disapproval as she looked over the room. In her eyes, the place was a complete mess and embarrassing to show to Emma. "I'll pick up this time, but I'm not your housekeeper, dear." she reminded him.
John began to open his mouth, but no words would come out. He was truly embarrassed. Mrs. Hudson saw, and at times treated, John as a son, though she never would admit to it. She began to tidy up the place, despite John's murmured protests. Emma took in the entire flat while trying to suppress a smile.
John gave Emma a weak smile. "Sor-" he began, but was interrupted.
"John," Emma said in a warning toning, knowing full well he was about to apologise. "How about some tea?"
"That would be lovely." he responded with a broadening smile, while glancing over at Mrs. Hudson.
Mrs. Hudson, who was bent over, picking up piles of newspaper off of the floor, stood up straight and looked back at John. "I'm not your housekeeper." she reminded him.
"Yes, Mrs. Hudson. Sorry." he answered, appalled that he was being scolded in front of Emma.
"John, allow me?" Emma asked pointing to the kitchen.
"Uh..." John knew the mess that awaited in the kitchen. He was not exactly thrilled with the idea of his girlfriend preparing tea while he finished dressing. "No, I'll do it."
"Please? It's quite alright. I don't mind, really." Emma pushed. "Finish getting ready, we'll have some tea and then head off. Alright?"
"No, it's fine. Have a sea-" He glanced around, noticing all of the possible places to sit were currently taken up by books or newspapers.
"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" Mrs. Hudson interrupted.
At that outburst, Emma began to giggle, which in turn caused John to start laughing. Mrs. Hudson, however, remained where she was, looking at the two as if they had gone mad. Finally, taking a breath, Emma insisted, "I'll take care of the tea. John, get ready. Mrs. Hudson, you really don't have to clean up." Clearing a spot, she guided Mrs. Hudson to sit down. "Isn't it about time someone brought you a spot of tea?" She gave a warm smile.
Mrs. Hudson was taken aback by Emma's kindness. "Thank you." She said, remaining in her seat.
With a nod and a grateful look, John left Emma and headed to his room. Emma, in turn, left Mrs. Hudson and headed to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, all three were back in the parlor, the tea having already been poured and ready for consumption. Quietly, they sat, sipping the tea.
The three suddenly heard the door downstairs open and slam shut, followed by hurried steps up the stairs. "John!" Sherlock called out. He rushed into the flat, barely giving Emma a glance. "Miss Harrington...no surprise there. Mrs. Hudson." He noted, before addressing John. "We have a new case!" He said excitedly.
Mrs. Hudson shook her head at Sherlock. "He has a date with Emma tonight."
Sherlock looked incredulously from Mrs. Hudson to John, ignoring Emma completely. "Surely it can wait. You saw each other yesterday. There's not a moment to lose, John."
John stood quickly. "Sherlock!" He was tired of how Sherlock brushed off everything he found to be important, especially Emma. Sherlock seemed to rarely acknowledge her. John always attributed it to a form of jealously, that Sherlock felt she was taking time away from a case. "It will have to wait."
"John, it's alright." Emma stood. She watched Sherlock intently. "It must be important, or he would not have asked you."
"Thank you, Miss Harrington. You see, John?" Sherlock pointed towards Emma. "She understands. You can see one another tomorrow. Let's go!" Sherlock turned around and quickly made his way down the stairs and out the door.
John approached Emma, placing his hands gently on her arms. "Emma, no...don't do this. I said we would go out and I meant it. He can wait, the case can wait. I don't care about that right now."
She smiled at him. "That is sweet. I suppose you're ri-"
"Oh my. I'm not feeling so well." Mrs. Hudson said quietly, making a failed attempt to stand. The tea cup slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the floor.
John and Emma quickly moved to her side. While John took her pulse, Emma felt her forehead and examined her eyes. The two exchanged glances. "Steady, but weak." John noted.
Emma gave a quick nod. "Pupils are fine, though she feels a bit warm."
"Flu." he noted.
"Quite possibly. It is going around." she replied.
John's brow furrowed. He was about to tell Sherlock to leave without him when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Emma was standing next to him. "Go, John." She whispered. "Our date can wait for another time. Sherlock needs you and, I dare say, Mrs. Hudson needs me."
John assisted Mrs. Hudson down the stairs with Emma at her side. At the bottom, just as John was saying goodbye to Emma, Mrs. Hudson took hold of the railing.
"Perhaps I should stay?" He offered.
"No, I'll be fine." Mrs. Hudson tried to reassure him, but losing her balance, she nearly fell. "I'm just a bit dizzy."
John took hold of her arm to steady her. He looked towards the door with uncertainty. Emma spoke up, "John, I'll look after Mrs. Hudson. Don't worry. You go on. It will be fine. I'll take care of her."
"My dear, you don't have to." Mrs. Hudson said weakly.
Emma took her arm and began to lead her to her room. "Allow me. You need to rest. I'll clean up the kitchen and lock up when I leave."
"Emma." John called after her. She turned to look at him. "Thank you." he said with a whisper and a smile.
She returned the smile before turning to continue leading Mrs. Hudson to her room. As he shut the door, he heard Emma reassuring Mrs. Hudson that it was no trouble to care for her. His smile remained on his face as he walked down to meet Sherlock at the curb. I just might marry that woman. He thought.
"John," Sherlock began, but stopped as John raised a hand.
"I don't want to hear it, not now." John said. "The case?"
Sherlock stared at him for a moment, considering his words. Finally, with a nod, he began to fill John in on the case at hand. The two hailed a cab and set off for the evening.
John Watson's Blog
June 18, 2011
Unfortunately, I've had to take down my post on Sherlock's most recent case. Seems the company was none too happy when they discovered the post.
At any rate, Emma has been on my mind...a lot. Things have been progressing nicely, I dare say. She is truly a remarkable woman, and was very kind to take care of dear Mrs. Hudson.
When Sherlock and I had arrived home later that evening, the kitchen was spotless, the flat quiet and Mrs. Hudson fast asleep in her room (I assume). In the morning, she was very groggy. I wonder if she hadn't mixed some medications that might have caused the ill effect from the previous night. If I remember, I'll discuss it with Emma.
Comments
I'm not a drug addict, dear. By the way, Emma is a sweet girl and would make a wonderful wife.
Mrs Hudson
Thank you, Mrs H.
John
Proposing anytime soon, are we? I wouldn't.
Harry Watson
I wouldn't take advice from you. No offense.
John
Marriage is indeed a grand adventure. But are you man enough for it? How does Sherlock feel?
Oh, that's right...he doesn't.
Anonymous
How did you post without an account?
John
:)
Anonymous
Initially, when John had first gone out with Emma he questioned whether she was truly interested. It had been Mrs. Hudson who reassured him that Emma was simply acting as a proper young lady should act.
"No woman should throw herself at a man. It's just not decent." She had explained.
It seemed to him that, shortly after Mrs. Hudson's reassurances, John found Emma to be more receptive to his advances. He was curious if the two women had spoken of his concerns. Simple public displays of affection that she normally had shied away from, she now seemed to take in stride. Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. John thought gratefully.
Her change in demeanour encouraged John to take things further. One evening, John surprised Emma with a romantic picnic in the park, during the summer concerts. He led her to a blanket, where a light dinner of sandwiches, fruit and champagne awaited them.
While listening to a classical music performance and sipping champagne, he wrapped his arm around her. As the evening drew to a close, brilliant and stunning fireworks lit the night's sky. Again, he looked down at Emma and was met by those piercing green eyes, now reflecting the colours of the fireworks.
In that moment, steeling himself for rejection, he kissed her. To his surprise, she wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling into the kiss. Holding her tightly, they continued to kiss until the firework show had finished. John tried to read her eyes, to plan his next step, but it was difficult. She made it difficult.
Standing, he held his hand out and assisted her to her feet. They gathered the picnic, blanket, and made their way back to her flat. As they walked side by side, John kept his arm wrapped snugly around her waist. He was not about to let this evening end.
Reaching her doorstep, John had placed the basket and blanket on the ground while she unlocked the door, opened it and paused. When she looked back at John, he was staring at her. Quickly pulling her towards him, he kissed her. Emma's demeanour had certainly changed, as she aggressively wrapped her arms tightly around him. When the kiss had ended, without a word, Emma took John's hand and led him into the building.
The following morning, John awoke alone. Glancing around, it took him a few moments to gather his bearings. He was not in his bed, nor in his room. Recalling the events of the previous night with a grin, he dressed and walked out to the other room, expecting to find Emma. Instead, he found her entire flat to be eerily quiet. She was not home.
Frowning, he gathered his things, pulled on his coat and headed out the door. Walking slowly back to Baker Street, he ran over what had happened the night before. It was exactly as he had hoped it would be. Oddly though, in the back of his mind he still had doubts about Emma. There was something that made him feel as if she were not completely in the relationship. He could not understand why he had this nagging feeling, especially considering what had transpired the night before. Entering the flat, he found Sherlock sitting in his chair, holding his violin, thinking. Avoiding eye contact, John made his way to his room.
"Morning." Sherlock called out. John could tell by the tone in his voice that he was implying so many things.
With a sigh, he replied, "Morning." After a long shower, he dressed in clean clothes and went to the kitchen for a quick bite.
"Have a pleasant evening?" Sherlock asked, though he knew exactly what John had been up to.
John stood leaning against the open refrigerator door. Why do I bother looking in here? He thought as he stared into a refrigerator full of non-edible items. "What? Oh, yeah, pleasant evening," he replied with half a thought to Sherlock. His mind was still on Emma, curious that she had not woken him before she had left.
"Are you seeing her again tonight?" He asked from the other room.
John shut the door and leaned against one of the counters. Rubbing his eyes, he answered without thinking, "Yes, I suppose so."
"Good! I shall accompany you." Sherlock replied.
John paused in mid-rub. "Pardon? What was that?" He walked to the other room, looking at the back of Sherlock's head. "Did you say you are coming with us?" He asked, not believing it.
"Why not?" Sherlock set the violin down and sprang out of his chair, eyeing John as he continued, "I should make an effort to know Miss Herrington."
"Emma. Her name is Emma. You can call her that." John said with irritation.
"Very well. Emma." he said patiently. "If you two are to be betrothed-"
"Now hold on a minute. I never said anything about-" John interrupted, but was interrupted in turn by Sherlock.
"You have doubts?" he asked.
"No, I, what?" John was confused. He hardly had time to think about his relationship with Emma and here Sherlock was interrogating him. "No, no, I have no doubts. Well, maybe one or two, but that's only natural. No, I'm fine. We are fine." he stated, but wondered if it was more to reassure himself than to end the conversation with his flatmate.
"Then, dinner tonight?" Sherlock asked, observing John.
John hated when Sherlock watched his every move, reading into all of it. It made him uncomfortable. He felt the same way at times when Emma looked at him. At that thought, John paled, to which Sherlock took notice.
"Problem?" He asked.
"No, no problem. Dinner is fine." He mumbled as he went for his coat and headed out the door. He needed time to think, alone.
