Chapter 23: Seventeen is Sweeter than Sixteen
On Emma's seventeenth birthday, her grandparents took her out to dinner. Not only had she celebrated another year of life, but she had also finished her second to last year of secondary school with all 'A's'. They took her out to a fancy restaurant where she was allowed to get dressed up, and they even got a bottle of champagne. They talked about school, and friends, and by the end of the evening even talked about Emmaline's mother and how much she was missed, a year after her passing.
The next night Henry took her to the movies and then bowling to celebrate her birthday and their four-month anniversary. They enjoyed their romantic film and ate at the bowling rink; Emma won both games and accused Henry of letting her. Their evening ended with a three-minute goodbye kiss on her porch that night.
Sherlock waited patiently until the weekend, when he could take her out for her birthday. Since they had both been sick in May, and Henry and her grandparents had started taking up more of her time, they had not been able to celebrate their own anniversary. The one year mark since they had met and become friends.
He had met her as a lonely little fifteen year old on that plane, and now she was a battle-scarred seventeen year old who was independent and strong. Sherlock had to admire how far she had come. Of course, he had been through a lot too. They had been through it all together. Their friendship had weathered the road, and passed every test.
So on Saturday night, Emmaline came over to Sherlock's flat to celebrate both momentous occasions.
"You still have not told me what we are doing." Emma told him.
"I promise, you'll enjoy it." He said, smiling.
They went outside and hailed a taxi, Sherlock giving the cabbie an address that Emma did not recognize.
"Seriously, where are we going?"
"I'm not telling; but you will like it." Sherlock promised.
They drove in silence, Emma bouncing up and down in her seat, and Sherlock enjoying her excited annoyance. Finally, the cabbie pulled up to a large venue and they got out. There were huge signs announcing the night's event: a Coldplay concert.
"Oh my god, are you serious?" Emma shrieked, staring at the people lined up to get inside.
Sherlock pulled two tickets out of his jacket and showed them to her.
"Sherlock!" Emma exclaimed.
She stood on her tiptoes to throw her arms around him and hug him. Sherlock stood there awkwardly for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close. Emma pulled back and kissed his cheek, beaming.
"Let's get inside."
"But there's a line." Emma pointed out, staring at the long line of people.
"I know a guy." Sherlock whispered in her ear.
Sherlock walked up to the man outside the arena and flashed something at him. The man nodded his head and stepped aside, letting them in early.
"What was that?" Emma asked, wondering why the guy had let them inside.
Sherlock chuckled and handed her something.
"Lestrade's badge? How did you get this?" She asked, stifling back laughter.
"I pick-pocket him when he's annoying." Sherlock answered with a shrug.
"Wow." Emmaline laughed and handed Sherlock the badge back.
He pocketed it with a grin. They got to the ticket counter and showed their tickets. The man behind the desk pointed them in the right direction, and off they went.
"They'll be letting people in soon – the concert starts in half-an-hour." Sherlock informed her.
They looked at the numbers on their tickets and found their spot – just barely out of the mosh pit.
"I didn't think you would want to be in all of that."
"Thanks Sherlock."
They sat down, holding hands, and waited for other people to file in and for the concert to begin. After forty-five minutes of waiting, the band came on stage and began to play.
ᶓ
"Oh my god!" Emmaline raved, as they stepped into Sherlock's flat. "They were so good!"
"You haven't been able to stop talking about how good they were."
"Oh, sorry."
"No, it's OK."
They flopped down onto the couch, shoving their bag aside. Emma had bought Sherlock a t-shirt and a CD, with the insistence that he actually wear it. Sherlock had promised.
Sherlock set his hand on the armrest and put his other around Emma's shoulders; she rested her head in the crook of his neck.
"That was a fun night – thank-you."
"I had fun too." Sherlock insisted.
"You actually knew the words to a few of the songs."
"I do occasionally listen to the radio."
Emma laughed. "You just don't watch TV."
"Not if I don't have one."
Sherlock looked down at his hand; it had started shaking. He had not had an episode since May; not since the last one. He hated that his body would betray him – that his brain would ask for the drug at a happy time like this. Because Sherlock was happy, he had Emmaline.
Emma noticed and slipped her hand over his on the armrest.
"It's OK Sherlock; I'm here."
After a few minutes, his hand stopped shaking and Sherlock relaxed. Hopefully a few more months without his favorite substance would be enough to kick the addiction from the back of his mind.
Sherlock rested his head on top of Emmaline's, glad to have her here.
"Thank you." He told her, kissing the top of her head.
"No problem; what are friends for?"
Both friends smiled.