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lilzezthenyan · 10 days

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ITS ME ARTWORK! AND @daemonbreath’s FIC!

A Date in Pink

By @daemonbreath and @lilzezthenyan

At first, Sherlock wasn’t sure why the texts started arriving. The first time he’d met Carol Watson, he had been focusing on masking and not observing her, so he didn’t know much about the woman. He knew she was a widowed nurse, she had an undefined relationship with someone named Charlie, and that she was John’s mother. All in all, Sherlock had no idea why she was texting him, someone barely connected to her.

Ping!

Think of the devil and she shall text.

[CW] Good morning Sherlock love! :)

[CW] Started listening to that one with the horse today and Lord is it exciting! You and Johnny are ever so lucky you got an inside scoop on that one :)

[SH] I agree. I admit I was reluctant at first, but it ended up being quite enjoyable.

[CW] Lovely to hear dear :)

[CW] Must have been nice staying in a little cabin with just Johnny for company hm? Nice and private out in the country

[SH] It was alright. I still much prefer London’s busyness, but staying somewhere rural was a nice change.

[CW] Nothing wrong with knowing what you like! :) But sometimes it’s nice taking a chance at something new

Sherlock didn’t know how to reply to that, so he didn’t bother trying. That was another thing Carol did, besides texting him out of the blue— she would, without fail, bring up John at least once. He was her son, so it made a small amount of sense, but Sherlock still felt it was strange. Victor’s father had never done anything like that, and Sherlock’s own father certainly hadn’t. His father usually only talked about him or Mycroft if he was bragging to someone rich and important. Still, her eagerness to talk about her son helped add to Sherlock’s constantly growing pile of John Watson Facts.

His favourites included— but weren’t limited to— John was ambidextrous until his injury, but still retained some skill; he failed almost all of his history classes in elementary school; and that he had a collection of moles and freckles on his back that looked like the Cygnus constellation. Sherlock had to look it up as his knowledge of space was limited to their solar system and the North Star, but he quickly decided it was his favourite constellation.

None of his new Facts became relevant until John kicked a smoke bomb away from them with a high amount of skill and precision— it came from all the years he spent playing football as a child and teenager.

“Ha ha! Get a load of that!” John cried, grinning. “John Watson has still got it! And by it, listeners, I mean everything I learned playing foot—”

“Playing football as a child, yes,” Sherlock said at the same time as John.

“—ball, yeah.” John squinted up at Sherlock. “How’d you know that?”

Sherlock froze for a second. Shit. Was it normal to be friends with your friend’s parents? Was it normal for the parent to talk up your friend? Would John think it was weird that Sherlock often exchanged texts with Carol Watson that usually revolved around him? Possibly. He could just make something up.

“Partially the way you talk about the matches on television,” Sherlock said, grasping for other memories to make his claims stronger. “It’s also not the first time I’ve seen you kick something— you tend to kick with the side of your foot, instead of the toe, which means it’s a habit you spent several years building. A habit you still have as an adult.”

“Huh. Yeah, brilliant,” John smiled up at Sherlock, and he felt himself puff up a bit at the praise. Good. Another successful social interaction.

The rest of the case concluded without much fanfare— culprit tracked down, culprit chased, culprit arrested and handed off to the police, then Sherlock and John take the tube home. Once back at the flat, John made a beeline for the shower. He’d tackled their culprit and the pair of them had landed in a very muddy puddle,which left John rather filthy. Sherlock retreated to his room to change into more comfortable clothes, and check his phone for any notifications he may have missed. Somewhat unsurprisingly, he had a few texts from Carol.

[CW] Hello Sherlock love! :) How are you today?

[CW] Everything alright?

[CW] Ah probably working I’ll leave you to it :)

[SH] Yes, we were out on a case.

[SH] Sorry for not replying. I usually keep my phone on silent while working so I don’t get distracted.

[CW] No worries love I understand! :)

[CW] Back home then? Any plans for the evening?

[SH] Back home, yes, and not currently. Why do you ask?

[CW] Well I met some girlfriends for brunch today and one of them told me about this lovely little restaurant in London that she went to

[CW] And I’d love to visit but they haven’t got a website so I don’t know if they have food I’d like

[CW] I’d be ever so grateful if you and Johnny could go and see what they have :)

What on Earth.

That was… new. Carol had made comments about John’s dating life in the past, but never something like that. It sounded like she was trying to set them up.

[SH] Carol.

[SH] Are you saying I should take your son on a date.

[CW] Perhaps ;)

[SH] Send me the address.

When John stepped out of the bathroom, he almost ran into Sherlock, who had a hand raised like he was about to knock on the door.

“Oh, good, you’re done,” Sherlock said, looking down at John. “We’re going out for dinner tonight. Change into something nice.”

“Since when have we had dinner plans?” John asked. He nudged Sherlock aside so he could go to his room to change— he’d learned that it was often better to just go along with what Sherlock said.

“Since about five minutes ago,” Sherlock called through John’s closed bedroom door. “And don’t wear blue jeans, wear the black ones in your dresser. Button down if you’re up for it, plain long sleeve shirt if not.”

John sighed, and put down the jeans and t-shirt he had picked out. Once dressed according to Sherlock’s suggestions, he styled his hair a bit, and almost added a spray of cologne when he paused. He was getting ready like this was a date. God, he hadn’t been on one of those in ages. Surely this wasn’t one, though. They usually went out to celebrate after finishing a case, and this was no different. No point in getting your hopes up, Watson, John told himself. Sure, he’d love to actually go on a date with Sherlock, make his feelings clear and all that, but Sherlock had never shown any interest in things like romance. John suspected there was once something between Sherlock and Victor, but neither of them had said anything, so suspicions were all John had.

The Uber ride to the venue was full of John trying and failing to guess where they were going. All John knew was that it wasn’t somewhere they’d been before, it wasn’t fast food, and that it was some kind of European. The place they arrived at looked both very posh and very cozy, with lots of plants at the front, large windows, and some exposed brickwork.

“La Baie Rose,” John said, looking up at the sign. “The Pink Bay?”

“Yes.” Sherlock smiled at John. “I’ve heard good things about it, and wanted to give it a try.”

“Well, let’s hope it lives up to the expectations.”

“Indeed.”

Sherlock took John’s arm and led him into the restaurant. Sherlock had somehow been able to snag a reservation, and their waitress led them to a table in the corner somewhat obscured by a faux hedge. They were given menus, Sherlock picked out a wine and asked for a jug of water, and then they were left alone to peruse the options. The whole menu was in French, but Sherlock was more than willing to translate and explain what things were. He’d also promised to pay, so he and John happily picked out several courses— appetizers, soups, pastas, entrees, salads, vegetables, and desert.

Once their order was placed, the appetizers arrived surprisingly quickly. John hadn’t been able to pick between gougères and smoked salmon canapés, so they had gotten both. The gougères were little balls of soft pastry loaded with cheese, clearly fresh from the oven with how warm they were. Sherlock had gone for the salmon first, which was also great. The canapés were also warm, and both the salmon and fromage blanc seemed to melt in John’s mouth.

After that came the soup, consommé julienne, made of a broth so clean John could see the bottom of his bowl through the thinly sliced vegetables floating around. The soup was also the perfect temperature— not too hot, but not so cooled that it’d be cold before he finished it. Then came another dish John was excited for, which was gnocchi romaine. Unlike typical gnocchi, these were discs of cheesy dough that had been topped with more cheese and baked until golden. The texture was similar to potato gnocchi, but maybe a bit better, in John’s opinion.

While conversation flowed as easily as the wine and sparkling water, there was something… off about the whole deal. John had noticed that Sherlock left his phone on the table as they ate, which wasn’t unusual— he complained about it pressing too hard against his leg, so John didn’t mind seeing it on the table. What was unusual was the fact that Sherlock seemed to be getting texts every five minutes or so, and would always reply to them. It wasn’t a case, that much was obvious, otherwise Sherlock would have dragged John out of the restaurant at the first text. John honestly had no idea who could be texting Sherlock that often, and he was burning with curiosity.

The opportunity to sate said curiosity came while they were waiting for their entrées. Sherlock excused himself to use the bathroom, and left his phone on the table. As John stared at it, he received another text. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text.

[Carol Watson] Oh don’t worry love I’m sure Johnny is enjoying your date

What on Earth.

Had all the texts been from his mum? Why the hell was his mum texting Sherlock in the first place? And why had she called it a date? John put Sherlock’s phone back, well aware he’d probably notice it was moved.

Was this a date? John had assumed it was a normal end-of-case-dinner and hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up thinking otherwise. Then again… John glanced around the restaurant, trying to channel Sherlock’s methods of observation and deduction. Most of the tables were for two, which could suggest it was popular with couples. The tables were on the smaller side, meaning the guests would be closer together. They were also decorated with small candle and flower centrepieces, giving off a very romantic vibe. On another look around, John figured that pretty much all the other guests were in romantic relationships.

There was also the fact that his own mother seemed to believe this was a date.

Damn. John was on a date with Sherlock Holmes and he had no idea.

John had enough time to conclude that he wasn’t upset by the fact that they were on a date, and then Sherlock was sitting back down. He smiled at John, then glanced at his phone. His eyes widened a bit, and his gaze snapped to John, his face now a blank mask. The tightness in his mouth and shoulders gave away his nerves, so John decided to just cut to the chase.

“Sherlock,” John said evenly, “has my mum been the one texting you this whole time?”

“Have they given us an update on the entrées yet?” Sherlock asked, not looking at John. “We’ve been waiting a while, I don’t think it should take this—”

“Sherlock. Please answer the question.”

Sherlock sighed, sinking down in his chair a bit. “Yes. Carol’s been texting me all night.”

“Does she text you a lot, then?”

“Yes. Every few days, we have a brief conversation. She brings you up a lot.”

“Is that how you know so much about my childhood? God, I hope she hasn’t told you anything embarrassing— No, no, I’m getting off-topic. I know you know I looked at the text she sent while you were in the bathroom. Why’d she call this a date?”

“Because… it is one?” Sherlock made a face. “It is a date. Carol has both implied and outright said this is a date, and I agree with her. I apologize for not making my intentions clear, and I also apologize if I’ve misread things between us and overstepped.”

“Definitely haven’t misread things,” John said, smiling. “This has been a great date so far, and I’m not mad. Yeah, would have liked to know it was a date when you asked, but I’ll let it slide this time.”

“Ah, good. I’m glad that’s settled, then.” Sherlock relaxed and smiled back at John.

Now that they were both on the same page, the rest of the date was brilliant. John even made a few attempts at flirting that seemed to work, judging by the fact that Sherlock sometimes ended up speechless and a bit flustered. John was also happy to note that after Sherlock had replied to John’s mum, he hadn’t checked his phone again after that.

Later, after Sherlock had paid and they were leaving the restaurant hand-in-hand, John pulled Sherlock to a stop.

“Hey, Sherlock?” he said, facing his partner.

“Yes, John?”

John leaned up to press a kiss to Sherlock’s cheek, grinning at the blush that darkened his face. “I’m planning our next date.”

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #johnlock

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