He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

What a Production This Has Become

    "What about this one?" John wondered, doing a little twirl in front of the mirror so that Hamish could see his suit from all angles. He now had an hour until the date and of course he had procrastinated all day, too nervous to even think about the date until it was right on top of him.
"You look really fancy daddy, are you sure you need to wear a tie?" Hamish wondered. John dropped his arms down in defeat, shrugging and ripping the tie off of his neck.
"I don't know, honestly, this whole thing is a mystery to me." he admitted. "Like, what do you even wear to a date with a dude?"
"Sherlock's a fancy dresser, so why don't you just stick with a nice shirt and pants, don't overdo it or anything." Hamish suggested.
"Ya well, Molly said the restaurant was fancy, but I don't even know what fancy means." John admitted.
"Not a suit daddy." Hamish suggested, as if almost embarrassed for John's poor sense of fashion.
"Alright, you're right, not a suit." John agreed.
"So where are you going?" Hamish wondered, kicking his feet against the bed and peering out the window, in case Sherlock was already on the front porch.
"Oh, some sushi place I don't know, Molly recommended it so I assume it's good." John shrugged, throwing his jacket on the bed and looking down at his son with a sigh.
"You're alright with this, right?" he wondered nervously.
"I told you already, I love it. You two are going to get married." Hamish assured.
"Well that's a very far way away Hamish, if it even happens. I don't even know if I like him or not." John insisted.
"You like him; I know you do, why else would you ask him on a date?" Hamish wondered.
"I like him I guess, but I only know one side of him. Sure, he's charming and handsome and funny and lovable, but what if he's a total slob, what if he chews with his mouth open, what if he has a criminal record?" John wondered.
"I don't think he's a criminal." Hamish decided.
"There's a lot of steps to getting married Hamish, and even more to even reach that point in a relationship. I like Sherlock a lot, but I'm still yet to suspect he's the one. I've gotten very cautious with throwing rings around." John admitted, and Hamish just shrugged rather disappointingly.
"Are you scared mommy's going to come back?" he wondered, and John just sighed.
"She's not coming back." John insisted, sitting down on the bed next to Hamish. "Are you scared that she will?"
"No. I don't think she will, and even so...I just don't want her to be able to take me. I like it with you, and I want to show her that we can survive without her. That you can fall in love with someone even after she broke your heart." Hamish muttered.
"Did you read that somewhere?" John wondered, noticing his son's new flare for the dramatic.
"No." Hamish muttered, looking down at the ground in shame.
"Well if Mary does decide to come back she won't be welcome. She left us, and even though she's your mommy, she doesn't matter anymore. She doesn't need us so we can prove to her that we don't need her either. And I'll go out there and I'll have the best date of my life, just to prove her wrong." John decided with a smile.
"Are you going to kiss him?" Hamish wondered, and John just laughed, shrugging.
"I don't know if it's that kind of night." John admitted, his mind wandering back to the what ifs of this new relationship.
"Alright well, you better get dressed; he'll be here in thirty minutes." Hamish decided, getting off of the bed and dragging John's arm as well, trying to get him moving.
"Alright, alright, I'll get dressed. How about you go downstairs, watch some TV or something, and I'll get ready. If Sherlock shows up, stall him until I get down." John decided.
"What's stalling?" Hamish wondered with a very adorable confused face. John just laughed, admiring the innocence of children.
"It's simple really, just keep him talking and distracted until I'm ready." John said with a smile.
"That sounds easy enough. Do you think he'll bring Redbeard?" Hamish wondered.
"I'm not sure, but...oh man...I forgot to hire a babysitter!" John exclaimed in annoyance, rushing over to his phone, which was sitting on the table.
"I'm sure it won't be that difficult." Hamish said with a shrug, not sounding too worried. John just shook his head, shooing his son out of the room and dialing Molly's number on the phone. She picked up almost immediately, as if waiting for the call, and John heard heavy, excited breathing on the other line.
"Is he there yet?" Molly wondered.
"What? No, no he's not here. I'm calling for a babysitter." John admitted, shaking his head and pulling out one of his buttoned up shirts the best he could with one hand.
"Oh sorry John, I've got a faculty meeting tonight at the school, some sort of teacher appreciation night. I was going to call in sick but I heard they have cupcakes with buttercream icing at the end, so I've got to go." Molly admitted. John sighed; at least she knew where her priorities lay.
"Alright, that's fine." John assured.
"Mrs. Hudson probably isn't doing anything, she's old." Molly suggested.
"Ya, that was plan B. Thanks anyway Molly, I'll tell you how the date went as soon as he leaves." John decided.
"Alright, you better, good luck!" Molly said excitedly, but John hung up before she could say anything more. Stood up for buttercream icing, that was almost embarrassing. So he dialed Mrs. Hudson's number, the last chance he had for a babysitter he trusted. Obviously Hamish would be alright on his own, but just in case he burnt down the house trying to turn on the TV, John wanted someone there to look after him.
"Hello?" Mrs. Hudson's voice asked on the other line, sounding as if she were in the middle of doing something. Just what, John had no idea.
"Hey, Mrs. Hudson!" John said cheerfully, the voice he used when he really needed something.
"Yes John, it's me. Don't need to be so excited." Mrs. Hudson laughed, and John just rolled his eyes, obviously not impressed with her humor, or lack of.
"Hey I need a favor, I've got plans tonight and I need someone to watch over Hamish, are you free?" john wondered.
"Well I suppose so, what are your plans?" Mrs. Hudson asked, that little tone in her voice she used when she knew everything.
"Oh, you know, nothing much." John lied, deciding to just play along. He knew that she already knew, Sherlock probably filled her in already, but just for the sake of the plot he pretended like she didn't.
"Alright then dear, I'll just walk Sherlock over then." Mrs. Hudson decided.
"Mrs. Hudson!" said a very Sherlock sounding voice from the other line.
"Oh, I mean...I'll just wait until you leave." Mrs. Hudson said hastily.
"Wait, is Sherlock over there?" John wondered, peering out his window to see if the truck was parked in her driveway. Curiously it wasn't, so John wondered just how Sherlock had gotten over there in the first place. But at least it was official, Mrs. Hudson knew everything and John wasn't the only one seeking first date advice.
"Alright dear, I'll be over soon, thanks for calling." Mrs. Hudson said with a bit of a snicker.
"Ya...see you later. Tell Sherlock I said hi." John agreed, and with that he shut off his phone, throwing it onto the bed and staring at the button down shirt in his hands. Oh well, I suppose it was time to dress to impress, even though he doubted he could do any impressing in the eyes of the most beautiful being that walked the earth. The doorbell rang much too early, and John was still struggling to button up his shirt correctly when he heard Hamish open the door. John groaned, combing his hair back in the mirror and trying to fix his eyebrows the best he could with his finger, this was all too much, this was just pathetic. Look at him, he wasn't anything close to the radiating beauty of Sherlock Holmes, what made him deserving of such an angel when he couldn't even look into the mirror without wincing?
"Daddy they're here!" Hamish called. John groaned, what ever happened to stalling? Maybe Hamish was as excited as he was, or maybe Hamish suddenly developed a hate for his father that he would redeem through humiliation.
"I'll be down in a moment!" John called back, checking his reflection once more in the full length mirror and taking a deep breath. His reflection smiled at him, and John just shook his head, turning on his heel and starting down the stairs. If Sherlock didn't like the way he looked then so be it, maybe he wasn't the one after all. When John descended the stairs he could hear Mrs. Hudson's voice in the living room, obviously talking to Hamish since she was going on about dinosaurs or something. John could only assume Sherlock was in there as well, Sherlock Holmes...his date...That was just a beautiful title for a beautiful man. John walked hastily out into the living room, and as soon as they heard the footsteps the crowd turned, watching him as he approached. Sherlock got to his feet as soon as John entered the room, the only one to stand up from where they were seated on the couch. Maybe he thought it would be polite, maybe he just panicked when he saw John, or maybe he just wanted John to be able to appreciate his entire outfit, because he did look stunning. Sherlock looked about the same he did every day, at least, when he was able to dress in something other than jeans. He was wearing those black slacks with the purple shirt and black jacket, but there was something about him tonight, something that just radiated beauty that John had never seen before in another man. Something that made his heart inflate a little bit, pushing against his lungs and making it difficult to get a breath.
"John...you look..." Sherlock smiled a little bit nervously, looking as if he had tried to practice these lines in a mirror but was blanking as soon as he was faced with his date. "You look wonderful." Sherlock managed. John smiled rather shyly, looking down at his outfit just to give himself something to do other than look Sherlock in the eyes.
"As do you." John assured. He heard Mrs. Hudson laugh a little bit from the couch, obviously their awkward conversation was laughable, but then again if John had been watching this exchange of words he probably would've laughed as well. Sherlock cleared his throat, staring down at his feet and making John look over to Hamish, who was hanging over the back of the couch with the biggest smile on his face, an expression that could be categorized as 'I knew it'.
"I um...I brought you flowers." Sherlock said quickly, as if he had just remembered. He suddenly dove back to the couch, returning with a large bouquet of very large, healthy looking roses. The flowers were something you could never find at the grocery store, it looked as if he had grown them himself. Sherlock handed the flowers to John, who took them rather gently and smiled, looking at the bouquet and then back up at Sherlock.
"They're beautiful." John said, the only thing that could come to mind in a world full of appropriate adjectives.
"Well you two should get going, but not before I get a picture!" Mrs. Hudson said excitedly. John checked his watch and nodded, seeing that their reservation was not twenty minutes away.
"A picture...Mrs. Hudson that really isn't' necessary, I'm sure we could remember this day without..." Sherlock just stopped talking, seeing that this was a lost battle as Mrs. Hudson got to her feet and held up a little camera.
"Get together you two, come on, don't be strangers." She insisted. John looked at Sherlock rather awkwardly, knowing that even though he's known this man for about a week now he still didn't want to get too close, at least not now. They were on a completely different level of knowing each other, and right now it was the most awkward, even if they had been so close before. Nevertheless the two of them stepped closer together, their arms hanging at their sides and the bouquet of roses still clenched in John's hand.
"Alright, smile!" Mrs. Hudson said happily, taking a quick picture of the two of them. "Hamish get in there!" she insisted.
"Okay!" Hamish said happily, scrambling over to his father and standing in front of the two of them. This picture was a lot less awkward, and everyone had a natural smile on their face. Mrs. Hudson checked the pictures quickly before nodding, stuffing the camera back into her purse with a smile.
"Ready to go then?" John asked, and Sherlock nodded, the awkwardness in the air suffocating the two of them.
"Yes, definitely." Sherlock agreed with a little nod, looking back over to Mrs. Hudson as if asking permission. Mrs. Hudson just nodded encouragingly, and Sherlock edged closer to the door.
"Hamish put these in some water, alright?" John asked, holding out the flowers for his son to collect.
"Alright daddy." Hamish agreed, taking the flowers from John's hands and putting them on the coffee table. John had an odd feeling that those flowers wouldn't move from the coffee table for a while.
"Sherlock are you..."
"Ready." Sherlock agreed, finishing John's sentence. John just smiled at him, and Sherlock's cheeks blushed a shade of crimson as he looked down at his shoes. It was still very odd to see Sherlock so awkward, but it was also kind of reassuring to know that John wasn't the only one who was nervous.
"Alright then, well I guess we'll head out then..." John decided.
"Bye daddy, have fun!" Hamish called excitedly, bouncing over again to give his father a big hug.
"Bye Hamish, I'll see you later." John agreed. When he saw Hamish again it would all be over, and he could tell him everything that happened, it'll be fine... no matter what happens, he'll be back in this living room shortly. Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson were talking to each other in low voices, but as soon as Sherlock saw that John was done talking to Hamish he nodded enthusiastically and pushed her away, so as to make it seem like they weren't plotting anything.

  "I hope you know the directions, because I don't." John said with a little laugh, walking over to the door and getting his coat off of the rack.
"We'll figure it out." Sherlock assured, his voice sounding a lot deeper, as if he were trying to sound like he wasn't panicking. Obviously he was nervous, maybe even more nervous than John was, but John really didn't know why. It wasn't like John was that great of a catch, it wasn't like Sherlock should be worried that somehow he wasn't good enough for John when obviously he was the only good thing this world had ever created. Sherlock was gorgeous and perfect, so why did he seem like he thought he was nothing? Sherlock joined John at the door, and finally with final goodbyes the two walked out onto the sidewalk, headed for the driveway.

    "Which car should we take?" Sherlock wondered, looking across the road to where his dirty white pickup was sitting in the driveway.
"Let's take mine; I suppose this is going to be a fancy restaurant." John decided, tapping his pocket to make sure he had brought his wallet.
"Probably a good idea." Sherlock agreed. John looked back over to the house just in time to see the curtains in the living room window swish around a little eye, it seemed like Hamish was getting awfully curious.
"They're not going to follow us, are they?" John wondered as he unlocked the car, walking around to the driver's seat and getting into the car.
"Well, I don't know about Hamish, but Mrs. Hudson has a car and some motivation, I wouldn't count her out of stalking just yet." Sherlock decided, getting into the passenger seat and closing the door. He looked rather awkward as John started down the driveway, tapping his long white fingers on the seat and looking out the window, the awkward silence filling up the car to the point where it was almost hard to breathe.
"You can turn on some music if you'd like, I don't really know what stations you're into." John offered, trying to focus on the road when the most beautiful man on earth was in the seat next to him. Sherlock nodded, fiddling around with the radio and breaking the awkward silence by skipping through all sorts of horrible stations and songs. Thankfully Sherlock skipped over Rihanna, Taylor Swift, and Eminem, but when he finally settled on a station John almost thought he was joking. But no, Sherlock sat back and tapped his fingers along to something that was constructed completely with violins, pianos...classical music at its finest.
"Mozart, you serious?" John asked with a bit of a laugh, looking over at Sherlock with a curious look.
"It's Bach...but I can change it if you want, I mean...I don't want to be a bad DJ." Sherlock muttered guiltily, reaching over to change the channel. As if on instinct, as soon as Sherlock's fingers were going to brush the dial John's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him from changing the channel.
"If it's what you like I'm not going to judge, I can enjoy some classical music once and a while." John assured with a soft smile, slowing the car down at a stop sign just in time for them to make eye contact. It was probably a good thing that they were stopped, because there was no way John was ever going to look away from those beautiful universes, and if he had been driving they probably would've run off the road. Just then John realized that his hand was still clasped around Sherlock's wrist, his fingers just edging underneath the cuff of his jacket, his skin so soft yet so cold...
"Sorry." John muttered quickly, pulling his hand away and tearing his eyes from Sherlock's. He stared to drive again, but he had no idea where he was going and at the moment was too afraid to ask.
"It's alright." Sherlock said after a long while. It was silent for a little bit, and John was very happy he had something to distract himself with, like driving, while Sherlock had to sit in the passenger's seat and stare awkwardly out the window, pretending to be interested in something other than the person in the seat next to him.