John walked out of the bedroom and poured himself a cup of coffee. When he entered the sitting room he gave Sherlock a kiss on the forehead before turning around and sitting down in his chair. As he put down his cup on the table he noticed two suits hanging on the door. Looking like they had just arrived from the cleaner’s.
“Sherlock, are those your suits?” John asked looking over at Sherlock. Sherlock turned his head slightly towards John but didn’t move his eyes from his laptop. He wrote for a few seconds more before turning his whole body.
“Hmm?” Sherlock tilted his head. John nodded towards the suits.
“Oh those, they’re for a party.”
John raised his eyebrows in confusion but Sherlock didn’t notice and turned back to his work. John didn’t bother to question it so he drank up his coffee and went into the shower.
When he finished, his towel tight around the waist, he stumbled upon Sherlock in the hallway. Sherlock was dressed in one of the suits, a dark one with tartan pattern, and was holding the other in his hand. He handed the light tweed one to John and John reluctantly took it.
“Remind me why I’m doing this again,” John said, staring amazed at Sherlock’s, normally uncontrolled, but now slicked back hair.
“I told you,” Sherlock said, running his thumb over a drop of water on John’s collarbone, “we’re going to attend a party.”
John stared at Sherlock in disbelief. He moved the suit from his right hand to left.
“When did Sherlock Holmes attend parties?” John mocked.
ÅaSherlock groaned in irritation and rubbed his eyes. “Lestrade promised me a really good case if you and I would go.” Sherlock dropped his hands from his face and looked at John with wide eyes and a slight pout. John sighed.
Sherlock’s eyes light up by the possibility to get a yes for an answer. “First of all, we get to spend more time together, doing what we love the most. The adrenaline pumping through our veins, running side by side, chasing criminals. I bet there’ll be lots of legwork. Might even need a gun,” he cocked an eyebrow, “and who is to handle that than the one and only Captain Watson?” Sherlock looked hopefully at John, hands still in the air after wild gesticulations.
John put a hand on Sherlock’s hip and kissed the side of his mouth. “i better get dressed then.” John chuckled and walked into the bedroom.
As they were sitting in the cab, side by side, Sherlock broke the silence.
“Oh, I forgot.” He pulled out a small little plastic bag and emptied it in his hand.
“No, no way,” John protested. He pulled his face as far away as possible.
“John come on, it fits the theme completely,” Sherlock begged.
John didn't say anything, just looked at Sherlock. Sherlock sighed and turned his head to stare out the window.
A few minutes later they arrived and went out of the cab. Sherlock made an act out of being sulky; dragging his feet and making himself small.
“Oh fuck it,” John sighed, “hand it over.” He reached out his hand. Sherlock beamed and handed the bag to John. John stuck the mustache on his face, and in they went smiling.
This is a bit late, but better late than never
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