Dinner part 2

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Sherlock's car pulled up to the restaurant. He got out slowly, nervous as all hell about the inevitable conversation. As he walked up to the building, he scanned the area through the giant glass window. People inside were eating, clinking glasses and chattering away. The table Sherlock had booked was right in front of the window and it was empty. No sign of John. Sherlock checked his phone. It was six-fifteen. He decided, rather than waiting outside in the cold, he'd go inside and wait for John.

He hardly paid any attention to the woman at the front of the restaurant who then led him to his table, his thoughts on John and hoping, /hoping/ he would come soon.

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John had returned to the flat and had, unsurprisingly, found it empty. Although, a small part of him had hoped Sherlock would be there.

After scrambling around in his room, trying to find an outfit to wear and flinging various jumpers across the room, John decided on a white, cream knitted jumper and trousers. He hoped where they were going wasn't too fancy, but just in case, he texted Sherlock.

Can I wear a jumper? -JW

No, John. Wear something nice. -SH

I don't have anything! -JW

Then yes, if it's the cream one you wore last Tuesday when we went to Ming's for dinner. -SH

Now /do/ hurry up, John. -SH

John sighed in relief and rushed to the bathroom to check his appearance. The reflection staring back at him looked tired but cheerful; John could not keep the grin off his face at the prospect of dinner with the consulting detective.

He went to the living room, grabbed his jacket and hurried downstairs to find a shiny black car waiting for him.

"Of course." He muttered under his breath as he opened the door and slid inside.

In the car ride, which the driver had informed him would take an hour, John thought about the proceeding events. Did Sherlock know? Of course. Don't be stupid, John. Sherlock knew everything. The doctor sighed and placed his head in his hands. He'd be so terribly embarrassed if Sherlock rejected him.

Not to mention heartbroken.

John squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, his left hand shaking ever so slightly. This man... He would be the death of him!

He leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to the dull roar of the car zooming over the road and traffic passing by.

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A/N: there will be a part three but I'm tired as fuck.

Leave me alone.... Insomnia sucks balls okay?

Red XX

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