Chapter Text
221B Baker Street, Outside on the Street
John was unexpectedly nervous as he left the flat an hour earlier than he necessarily needed to, even taking into account travel time, extra time just in case he got lost, and of course a few extra minutes in case Ari wasn’t ready when he did get there. But I don’t want to be late or get caught in a traffic jam or a rainstorm. John had even brought a compact umbrella, which was in his jacket pocket, just in case. He hadn’t wanted to waste the money on a cab. Just in case I need it for the date or an emergency. He had planned on taking other public transport, specifically the bus and then walk. He wanted to take his time to get to Ari’s address, where he was supposed to meet her. So much to think about. John needed to get some air before he went on another date with such a wonderful woman. I need to think. John smiled as his thought swirled chaotically. Definitely need to think . . . and not where Sherlock can read and deduce my every expression, my every thought. John needed a little privacy in his own head before he saw Arianna again.
John had dressed up, but hadn't worn his suit, although he had seriously considered it. He nervously smoothed his hands down his shirt and pants, wiping his surprisingly sweaty hands off at the same time. When he'd walked downstairs from his room it had been for the second time that day. He’d already made tea and toast earlier that morning, having risen before his alarm. Even after a late night, his tendency to rise early was still ingrained from his Army days. John had headed for the bathroom preparing to shower and shave before finishing his deliberations about what to wear on his date. He had only been wearing his underclothes and a robe. He’d known Sherlock was most likely awake, since he was in his thinking pose, stretched out on the couch, but it had slightly startled him when Sherlock had taken one look at him, raised an eyebrow and said firmly, "Do not wear the suit, it's hideous."
He had stopped just before the bathroom door, hand stretched out toward the handle, blinking. John had walked back to where he could see Sherlock and said, "What? I'm not . . . " Sherlock's look told him very plainly that he knew exactly what John had been thinking. Why am I listening to Sherlock for advice on dating? John had sighed and asked almost sarcastically, "So I should go for casual? Oh, I know, maybe just my boxers and coat! That’d make a great statement."
Sherlock had shrugged and had returned to his fully reclined position. His face impassive, nonchalant as ever, as he continued, "Wear a button down and your light blue jeans. I believe it's considered semiformal. Although, it would most likely be considered business casual instead of semiformal, unless you wore trousers instead of jeans, then it would be considered just business attire." Sherlock had rolled his eyes, "And don't wear any of your awful jumpers."
John had sighed, again, suppressing the anger that rose up at Sherlock’s constant criticism of his wardrobe. He had walked off to the toilet to get ready, without saying anything in return. John shook his head, well at least I agreed with him, this time. The suit would be a bit much just to go to the museum and dinner, especially so early in the day.
Sighing, John’s thought pattern continued to ponder his flat mate. I know Sherlock doesn't think I have any style. Maybe he's right, but Ari doesn't seem to have a problem with how I dress. I think I’d be more upset if I thought he was trying to sabotage my date. Funny enough, I think he was actually trying to help in his own Sherlockian way. John smiled, knowing Sherlock didn’t exactly like most people. Maybe he really is starting to like Ari. That would make my life so much easier. John’s smile widened. If they can become friends, maybe this relationship will actually work out.
He smiled as he made his way to the bus stop, remembering the night before, the feel of Ari’s hand running down his arm to take his hand. Their fingers had intertwined. Her hand was so small, so delicate, especially compared to my own.
A flash of memory, her sparkling eyes and shy smile, had his groin throbbing. He sighed heavily, trying to push away the fantastic image that played in his mind. The image of what her dark hair bobbing on a growing part of his anatomy would be like. Oh, no. I can’t think about that, now.
His brain, however, had other ideas. John almost groaned aloud, remembering the way she'd leaned in and whispered into his ear. Her words had taken several seconds to even reach his sensory overwhelmed mind, as they tried to travel past the feel of her hot breath on his ear and her warm lips almost brushing the sensitive cartilage. She'd sent a shiver down his spine with just one simple phrase, "I had a lovely time."
He'd stuttered, almost unintelligibly and her smile had widened. She liked the affect she had on me. I could see it in her eyes. John had finally managed after several seconds to say, "I did too." He'd done his best not to sound a complete fool or like a child begging for sweets, "Can we do this again?"
She'd smiled so warmly, he'd almost kissed her then and there, but he'd just stopped himself from leaning forward, as she said, "Are you busy tomorrow?"
His heart had skipped a beat at her words. She’d wanted to see me so soon! I didn’t know what to say. I’m so glad I had today off. John had shaken his head, hoping that Sherlock wouldn't get a case in the next twelve hours, in which Sherlock needed him to be there. John hadn't known why, but an idea had popped into his thoughts out of the blue. He’d spoken without really thinking, before he could stop himself or reason himself out of it, "How about the British Museum? They have a new special exhibit that opened last week."
John smiled, remembering how her eyes had lit with pleasure, and how the deep breath she’d taken had made her chest rise several inches, "Oh, that sounds marvelous!"
Her excitement was infectious, so he’d continued on with another thought, "I don't work at all tomorrow, so maybe we could make it an early evening?” His concern that she wouldn’t be able to get into her flat had seriously worried him, “That way you wouldn't have the problem of taking a chance of you being stuck without someone to let you into your flat."
She'd smiled one-sidedly, "How's 2 o'clock? We can avoid the lunch rush and maybe have an early dinner after the museum."
He hadn't thought she'd be so enthusiastic; it had made him giddy that she’d so readily agreed, "That suits!" Just then a cab came down the street. John raised his arm, taking a few steps forward in the attempt to flag it down.
Ari had smiled, as the cab pulled up to the curb. She stepped close once more, heading for the cab, but then leaning in to John, pulling him down by the front of his shirt a few inches so they were on more of an even level and kissed his cheek chastely. He remembered how her coat had brushed his hand and her chest had pressed into his right shoulder. He'd been glad it'd been his right shoulder, because the scar tissue on his left shoulder didn't allow as much sensation. She had whispered in his ear, again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Both of their cheeks were warm when she pulled away. Her facial expression had held promises that had made his breath catch as she turned to walk the few steps to the curb, where the cab waited. The best way he could describe her movement as she slid into the back of the cab had been sultry.
John looked up surprised as he realized he'd walked the entire way to the bus stop without even thinking about it. He looked around and smiled, seeing a bus approach from down the street. It wasn't the one he needed, but it had given him another idea. He smiled happily to himself as he put his hands in his pockets, only slightly trying to hide the bulge in the front of his pants, as he waited for the bus he needed. He really was looking forward to seeing Ari again. And maybe getting to know her better.
John thought about how she had told him to give Sherlock her number. John had been mystified until she’d smiled at him and explained her reasons. John had marveled at her logic and creativity. She had effectively cut off Sherlock’s snooping by offering up to him any answer to the questions he may have wished to ask. She’s so open and honest. John had been in awe of her and Sherlock’s reaction when he’d told him about giving him her number had only confirmed what Ari had said.
The earlier scene from the previous night played out more fully as her words ran through his mind, “You said he gets bored unless he’s on a case.” They’d been holding hands just outside the main door of 221B, not even down the steps, yet. She’d squeezed his hand lightly and smiled up at him through her eyelashes, “I understand how he feels. I have a lot of family who are similar to Sherlock.” Her self-deprecating half smile had him wondering how often she had to deal with them, but she’d continued without pause, “He seemed to enjoy our conversation, so maybe . . . well, maybe this way I can distract him when he’s not on a case and . . . er while you’re at work. I’m pretty good at random facts and trivia. I have tons of it in my head. Most of it would be useless to the average person, but I might be able to use the really out there stuff to keep his interest.” She’d smirked, “And keep him from shooting the wall.” John had wanted to kiss her so badly, but it had only been the first date. Too soon. They’d walked down the steps after he’d agreed to give Sherlock her number. It couldn’t be too bad, could it? I mean, she sort of knows what she’s getting herself into. I had warned her about how he tells people about themselves, deduces things about them, and how it makes most people hate him because they don’t want other people to be able to tell things like that about them. She’s enough like him in that aspect, being able to read people. Though, I don’t think she does it the same way Sherlock does. For once John was completely optimistic about the beginnings of a relationship.
John didn’t even notice that he was whistling a happy little tune as he waited. He also didn’t realize he was moving in time to the music in his head, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Even though he hadn’t slept much, he was almost bursting with energy. As he let his muscles in his shoulders roll, easing some of their tension, John thought to himself. I can’t really remember the last time I was so excited to go on a date. John shrugged off the butterflies that fluttered around in his stomach. Silly, but I feel like a teenager. He was doing his best to ignore them. Just like last night. I wonder if Ari feels the same way. She’s younger, she might be in the same boat, but she seems so mature for her age. John paused in his movements and had a strange thought, which made him feel just a bit more his age. When did twenty-two become so young? John nearly laughed aloud at the thought, but just smiled wider instead. At least I’m not laughing at a crime scene! John’s eyes sparkled at his own joke and he did chuckle silently to himself, the small lines next to his eyes crinkled adorably.
An attractive woman passed by when he looked up and smiled back at him. John nodded politely, but his eyes quickly went back to the road, searching for his bus. His mind didn’t register the fact that the woman seemed a bit disappointed at what seemed to be his indifference. He also missed her soft sigh as she looked over her shoulder several times as she slowed her pace, in hopes he may stop her to ask for her mobile number. John’s bus came then and he nearly bounced up the small steps to pay his fare. John missed the woman’s wistful smile as she turned back and continued on her way.