He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Nothing But a Goodbye

    The rest of the meal was just eating, trying to balance the sushi on the chopsticks the best they could, eating and talking in scarce little conversations, it was pleasant but awkward. In fact, it was terribly awkward, after basically everything either of them said they would get all red and blushy, stuttering and looking down at the table in shame. Not that it was a bad thing that they were awkward, in fact there was probably nothing John would rather do than sit across from Sherlock Holmes, no matter how embarrassed it made him feel. But as the night went on they got a bit more used to each other, acceptant of the other's company and soon they could have full conversations without breaking eye contact, laughing together and smiling together and having a grand old time. John felt like he were having dinner with a friend rather than a new date, he felt carefree, excited, and it made him extremely happy to think that he could have Sherlock as more than just a friend. It was almost like a dream come true, a man with a beautiful personality mixed with a beautiful face, he was the ultimate man, and somehow John had managed to catch his attention. When the bill was paid (John didn't even want to look, he just handed his credit card to the waitress and hoped for the best) the two of them got to their feet and put on their jackets, both rather upset that the date was over so quickly. Then again, all good things must come to an end, and even though this night was magical with less time to spend together was less time for John to screw things up. On their way out they both grabbed those little swirly peppermints, unwrapping them and walking out to the car. The restaurant had been in a little stretch of shops on a backstreet, right on the edge of some sort of park. John hadn't explored this town enough, so honesty he didn't know what the park offered as far as entertainment, but he knew enough to know that he didn't want this date to end. Sure he might screw up, but who cared? This time with Sherlock was shaping out to be the best date of his life, and they both didn't want it to end.
"Do you want to walk a little bit?" John offered, nodding in the direction of the park. He could see the gates from where he stood, and there were some trees in the distance, peaking over the tops of the buildings.
"Oh, sure." Sherlock agreed, crunching down on his mint impatiently, buttoning up his long trench coat and flipping the collar up, even though there was no wind.
"Cold?" John wondered with a little laugh. Sherlock shrugged in embarrassment, but obviously he thought he was making some sort of fashion statement because he kept it flipped up. John had to admit, it made him look a lot more mysterious, the black fabric clashing with his beautiful pale skin, it made it hard to look away. But never the less John started down the sidewalk, waiting a little bit for Sherlock to catch up so they could walk side by side. It was getting later, around seven thirty as they walked, so there was barely anyone on the streets, everyone was either enjoying dinner or sitting at home. The sun was sinking as well, engulfing the landscape in oranges and yellows, the light of the dying sun. John had to admit, it was very romantic, and as they passed through the iron gates into the stone pathways it took most all of his self-control not to lean over and kiss Sherlock right now. Then again, it might be weird to kiss on a first date, especially when he didn't know if his feelings were returned or not. Sherlock might hate John's presence, he might not want to look at him much less kiss him, and on the first date John would have no warning, no teller to decide whether or not Sherlock would be up for a little smooch. All of John's previous worries had disappeared however, about being with Sherlock. After this date he was sure that all of his feelings were real, he was positive that no matter Sherlock's gender, he was in love. It had only taken an hour to convince him that Sherlock and he were meant to be, and it made him realize how much of an idiot he had been when he asked Mary to marry him. Of course she wasn't the one, how could he have thought he loved Mary when a feeling like this existed? When your heart was dead set, when it was complete just with the presence of another man, hadn't he noticed that his heart was hallow even when he had that ring on his finger? How could he have ever been under the impression that he was in love with Mary when somewhere out there, Sherlock existed?
"That was really nice Sherlock, I liked that a lot." John muttered, not knowing what else to say to strike up a conversation. It was a rather bland sentence, but then again it might be able to spark up a lively conversation.
"Yes I liked that as well, the sushi was delicious." Sherlock agreed. Well, maybe not.
"It's kind of weird, to be honest, I keep having to remind myself that this is a date." John admitted with a bit of a laugh.
"Am I that boring?" Sherlock wondered, sounding a bit nervous. John just shook his head, following the paths under the light of the street lamps, his shoes crunching over fallen leaves.
"No you're not boring; in fact you're so perfect that it's easy to forget that we're on a date. It's weird to think that I don't have to hide my feelings, I still feel like I have to somehow prove myself to you." John admitted.
"Prove yourself? That doesn't even make sense John." Sherlock decided.
"Oh, you know what I mean." John muttered, shaking his head in defeat.
"No, I don't actually. Do you mean that you feel like I don't like you?" Sherlock guessed.
"Precisely. I feel like I'm nothing compared to you." John agreed.
"You're everything compared to anyone; I don't even know why you're concerned about that. It's me that's worried, I mean; you're so confident and so experienced on dates while I feel that everything I say is wrong." Sherlock admitted.
"I'm not experienced on perfect dates though, only mediocre dates." John assured.
"This is a perfect date?" Sherlock wondered in a very hopeful voice.
"You don't agree?" John asked, now worried Sherlock didn't feel this satisfaction.
"Oh I agree, I definitely agree, there's no other person on this earth that I would rather be eating sushi with, it's just odd to think that someone like you could appreciate the company of someone like me." Sherlock admitted.
"Maybe we both need to work on our self-confidence. Maybe we're perfect in each other's eyes but terrible flawed in our own." John decided.
"That doesn't make sense, we can't even see ourselves." Sherlock pointed out.
"That's exactly the point; we can't see what anyone else sees because it's all in our head." John agreed. "When we look at ourselves in the mirror we only see the flaws because we can't accept the perfection." John muttered.
"That's pretty deep." Sherlock decided, that only thing he could say in the face of such a speech.
"Well, it's true. You're perfect Sherlock; I'm just going to get that out of the way. I thought I had been in love before, obviously I was wrong." John decided.
"What makes you think that?" Sherlock wondered in an almost nervous voice.
"Because I have never felt like this before about anyone." John pointed out with a guilty little laugh. Sherlock just smiled, looking at his feet and blushing, obviously beyond flattered.
"Well I'm quite taken with you as well; I know that as far as first dates go, this one is definitely the best." Sherlock decided. "I've never been in love before." he admitted.
"You've never had any sort of relationship then?" John wondered, looking up at Sherlock in surprise.
"Not really, no. I've always been a loner I guess." Sherlock decided with a guilty shrug. "Sorry." He added in a small voice.
"There's nothing to apologize for, of course not, it's just weird to think of you as, well, pure." John admitted.
"I hope I'm doing this right, this whole date thing." Sherlock mumbled.
"You're doing perfectly." John assured. He noticed Sherlock's hand, pale and soft, swinging at his side, his fingers peeking out of his coat sleeve and hanging empty in the air. John couldn't decide whether or not it would be alright to take his hand, it was a perfectly innocent gesture of course but still, Sherlock might think he was moving too fast, Sherlock might not be comfortable with it. But John was so tempted, he wondered how it would feel to have Sherlock's fingers in his own, it was eating him up inside when in reality all he had to do was make one little move with his hand, one tiny little move and it would all be over. John took a deep breath, not knowing what to do.
"Can I hold your hand?" John asked quickly, before his common sense could tell him otherwise. Sherlock looked at him in surprise, his mouth agape a little bit as if he had been whacked in the stomach.
"My hand? Yes, of course yes." Sherlock agreed rather aggressively, holding his hand, pale and shining in the starlight, out for John to take. John just smiled rather guiltily, taking his hand and interlocking their fingers. As predicted Sherlock's hand fit his own perfectly, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that snapped right together. His hands were cold yet soft, and even though Sherlock was a bit taller John seemed to have smaller arms, and their hands could be interlocked even when their hands were simply swinging at their sides. It was perfect, and John couldn't help but smile in amazement.
"Sorry, I wasn't sure what you might think." John muttered awkwardly, feeling the need to explain himself.
"No of course, it's fine." Sherlock assured, a small blush coming from his cheeks. They walked like that for a while, their arms swinging, their hands interlocked, walking in a comfortable silence even though John would like to strike up a conversation just for the excuse of hearing Sherlock talk and having an excuse for looking at him. John loved looking at Sherlock, now more than ever since he knew it wasn't wrong to gaze at such beauty. He hoped Sherlock felt the same way about looking at him, although he kind of doubted it. Even after making that speech about self-confidence and seeing your own worth John still doubted that Sherlock could see him in such a positive light. Then again, he had to hope for the best, Sherlock had agreed to go on this date with him, he agreed to hold his hand, obviously he wasn't the only one who was feeling real emotions. They made a loop around the park in silence, ending up at the same iron fence that they had entered in. John knew that if he was going to kiss Sherlock it was going to have to be now. Even though he thought it might be too rushed he knew that he wasn't going to be able to kiss him in front of his house, not when Mrs. Hudson and Hamish were such spies. But before John could make up his mind Sherlock lead him through the gate, their hands still clasped together but their lips very far apart. Maybe it was for the best, even though John wanted to kiss him this was Sherlock's first date, ever. It might catch him a bit off guard to get kissed after just an hour or so of dating. So they walked back to the car, finally breaking away from each other as they got into their designated seat, John at the wheel and Sherlock in the passenger seat, both with small smiles on their faces that they did their best to hide. It had been a magical evening, it really had been. They drove home in silence but they both wanted to say something, John could feel the built up tension in the space between them, he knew that they were both thinking the same things but they couldn't put their feelings into words. So they sat in silence, neither of them thinking to turn on the radio to at least make the ride a little bit less awkward. When they finally pulled into John's driveway they both got out, Sherlock standing rather awkwardly by the side of the car while John walked around to say his goodbye.
"That was a lovely evening John, thank you for everything." Sherlock said with a little smile.
"Don't thank me Sherlock, it was my pleasure." John assured.
"Well I'll fund the next date, how about that." Sherlock decided.
"So there will be a next date?" John asked with a little smile. Sherlock looked a bit panicked, as if he hadn't realized that John might not want to go on a second date.
"I'm kidding Sherlock, I'm kidding. Of course there will be a second date; I'd go crazy if there wasn't." John assured, and Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief.
"You had me worried there." He muttered, and John just laughed innocently, looking down at the ground and twisting the heel of his dress shoe into the pavement.
"Would you like to come in, have a coffee?" he offered, not really sure what to do now.
"I better get going, it's already getting late and I'm not really in the mood to answer any of Mrs. Hudson's questions." Sherlock admitted.
"Alright then, that's fine of course, it is rather late, past Hamish's bed time." John agreed.
"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." Sherlock decided with a little smile. John brought his eyes up to meet Sherlock's, wondering what might be appropriate at this time.
"Yes, definitely." He agreed in an awkward voice.
"Alright." Sherlock muttered, clearing his throat and looking around. Obviously he was having the same mental battle as John right now.
"Alright." John agreed, not knowing what else to say. There was an air of finality to this word, and even though he hoped he was mistaken, John had a sneaking suspicion this was the end to the night. As soon as this word left his lips, Sherlock's lips stayed far away.
"Well...bye, thanks again." Sherlock decided, and with that he gave a final wave before starting down the driveway, walking across the road with a new skip in his step. John just sighed, watching him leave and wondering what sort of opportunity he had just thrown away by letting Sherlock walk away with nothing but a goodbye. John turned on his heel and walked back inside, the porch light illuminating the night in a warm sort of glow. When he opened up the door he was met with screams, and at first he thought that something had happened and someone was dying. It took him a moment to realize he was being attacked by what looked like paper swords, and Hamish and Mrs. Hudson had ambushed him from behind the coat rack. John just laughed, pushing Hamish away and giving Mrs. Hudson a sort of confused look. He shut the door and hung his coat up on the rack, watching as Hamish straighten his little paper crown. 

"So, how'd it go?" Mrs. Hudson asked impatiently, taking off her paper crown as well and putting it on the banister of the staircase.
"Amazing, he's amazing, it's just...it was great." John decided with a sigh.
"Can I be the ring bearer in your wedding?" Hamish asked hopefully, hopping up and down so that his paper sword flailed this way and that.
"Wedding, oh come on Hamish let's not rush things, it was only a first date." John insisted. Hamish's smile didn't fade, and neither did Mrs. Hudson's.
"Well, there's going to be a second date, right?" Hamish wondered.
"Yes, I don't know when, but we both agreed that a second date would be appropriate." John agreed.
"Do you think he likes you as well?" Mrs. Hudson wondered.
"I hope so, I mean he didn't seem like he didn't like me, and he made a point of telling me how nervous he was and all of that stuff, so ya I think he does." John decided.
"He does, you're right; all I've been hearing about is your name since you moved in. I'm glad it worked out, and I'm sure I'll get all the details tomorrow over lunch, but until then I've got to get home, I'm exhausted. All this castle conjuring is bad for an old lady." Mrs. Hudson joked.
"You're not old, you're just wrinkly. You don't act old." Hamish decided. Mrs. Hudson laughed, and John couldn't help but crack a smile as well, a guilty smile, but a smile all the same.
"Oh well I'm glad you think that Hamish, but numbers don't lie." Mrs. Hudson sighed. Hamish frowned, but shook his head vigorously.
"You're not old." He decided, as if his word was all that mattered in this situation.
"Well Hamish, after you're done trying to boost Mrs. Hudson's self-esteem she has to be going, so say goodnight." John decided, and Hamish nodded, giving Mrs. Hudson a big hug.
"Bye Mrs. Hudson, I hope you can babysit me when they go out again!" Hamish decided. Mrs. Hudson just laughed, hugging Hamish back the best he could and grabbing her pink coat off of the rack.
"I hope so too, and I hope that's really soon." Mrs. Hudson agreed, winking at John to tell him to get a move on with planning.
"Alright, alright, I can take a hint. Goodnight Mrs. Hudson thanks so much for watching Hamish." John muttered, pulling out his wallet and attempting to pull out some sort of money as a thank you.
"Oh no dear, no money, it was my pleasure. You paid me by giving Sherlock something to do other than sit and mope around his flat and look at pictures of flowers." Mrs. Hudson assured.
"You took time out of your night; you should have something to show for it." John insisted with a frown, although he was perfectly happy with keeping his wallet closed. Even though he wanted to be nice, he also didn't want to have to serve his son Ramen noodles for dinner.
"I do have something to show for it, I have a paper crown. Goodnight John, Hamish, I'll see you two sometime in the morning I presume." Mrs. Hudson decided. With that she pulled on her coat and placed her crown proudly on her head, marching out of the house with her head held high and her sword blowing around with even the smallest of breezes.