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This is the most romantic dinner ever, John thought as he looked across the candle lot table at his first date in years, Sherlock. The adventure, the suspense, the Italian food, it was like he had planned it.
"Sherlock!" A heavy long-haired man bustles up to their table. "Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house," he says, "for you and your date."
So this was why Sherlock had taken them to such a fancy restaurant. It was free. John felt worthless; his date didn't want to spend money on him. So, when Sherlock says, "Do you want to eat?" John snaps at the man.
"I'm not his date!"
This doesn't seem to faze the larger man. "This man got me off a murder charge," he continues on, happily.
"This is Angelo. Three years ago, I successfully proved to Lestroodlel, at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder, that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."
"He cleared my name."
"I cleared it a bit."
"If not for that man, I'd have gone to jail."
"You did go to jail."
This whole exchange happened so fast, John didn't quite know what to think. He was a little mad that Sherlock was treating him like this, but impressed by how smart he was. Would Sherlock ever stop toying with his emotions?
Maybe John should play hard to get.
"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic."
"I'm not his date!" John barked at Angelo's back. He smiled to himself; this was fun.
Sherlock fired back with, "You may as well eat. We might have a long wait."
John spent the next few minutes having what was possibly the deepest conversation of his life, even though he couldn't remember what it was about. He wondered if Sherlock felt the same.
"You don't have a girlfriend, then?" John asked.
"Girlfriend? No, not really my area."
"Mm." Yes! John was really on a date. He tried to keep his cool. "Oh, right. Do you have a boyfriend?" Sherlock looked surprised. Shit. Too forward. "Which is fine, by the way."
"I know it's fine," Sherlock snapped.
John frowned. This wasn't the way he'd expected this to go. "So you've got a boyfriend, then," he said, disappointed.
"No."
"Right." Why are you toying with my feelings like this? "OK." Is this part of the game? "You're unattached." I should be less subtle. "Like me." And still chill. "Fine." But I also need to let him in know I'm interested. "Good."
Sherlock shifted uncomfortably. "John, umI think you should know I consider myself married to my work," shit, "and while I'm flattered," I fucked up, "I'm really not looking for any...."
John freaked out. This wasn't a date. Fuck, I need to think fast! "No, I'm Not asking." Then what am I doing? "No, I'm just saying, it's all fine."
Sherlock relaxes. "Good. Thank you."
This wasn't a date. I'm so stupid. God damn it, John. Why did I assume someone like Sherlock would be interested in someone like me?
Suddenly, the chase was back on and John forgot his stupidity. He was back to laughing and being happy. What did it matter if Sherlock didn't want to be with him now? He had his whole life to convince him.