Half impressed and half irritated, Sherlock glared at John. The two hadn't had a new case in weeks so when John told Sherlock that he had found some new clients, Sherlock jumped at the chance. Now he found himself on a date! He was impressed that John managed to lie to him, but he really needed a case. The pull of the drugs was calling to him and he needed a case to occupy his mind. Instead, he was sitting there awkwardly with you.

To your credit, you didn't seem to mind his brusque nature or his irritability. Nevertheless, it was a tense and awkward situation. Even John had to wince when Sherlock deduced you as well as John's date. That was when your friend decided that you both needed to go to the restroom. Once you were out of sight, Sherlock rounded on John.

"A date? Really, Watson?" John merely shrugged. "Yes. A date. You needed to get out of the flat and I needed to find someone for Y/N. If I had told you it was a date, would you have come?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes a bit. "Of course not. It is a waste of my valuable time. The only person who loathes the idea of dating more than I would be Mycroft." John waved a hand in the air as if to say "there" and then cleared his throat. "You know, you could be a bit nicer to her. She's a wonderful woman." Sherlock rolled his eyes but was saved from answering by his phone alerting him about a text.

"Finally," he muttered just as you and your friend returned. "Sorry, ladies. There's case. Watson and I need to leave." John glanced between Sherlock, you, and your friend for a moment before a smile came to his lips. "Actually, I'm staying here." Sherlock simply blinked at him in surprise while John kept flicking his eyes in your direction.

After a moment, Sherlock sighed, "Very well. Come on." He turned on his heel and walked toward the door, leaving you standing there confused. When he heard the sound of your footsteps behind him, he smiled a bit to himself. Maybe you weren't such a bad idea for a date after all.

The ride in the taxi was awkward at first. You sat as far away from him as you could while Sherlock hardly spoke at all, his mind reeling with possibilities of the case at hand. This was what he needed. The rush and thrill of a mystery. It wasn't until you were nearly at your destination that either of you spoke. To Sherlock's surprise, it was you who broke the silence.

"Do you always bring your dates to crime scenes?" Sherlock arched a brow as he looked at you. If he had expected to see some form of disgust or trepidation on your face, he was pleasantly surprised. There was only curiosity and perhaps a little bit of mischief and excitement in your expression. He regarded your face for a moment. It was actually a very pretty face upon closer inspection. He hadn't really cared to pay attention before. The lighting in the restaurant hadn't done you any favors, hiding the natural beauty of your face.

"No," was all he managed before the cab pulled to a stop. Sherlock was out of the vehicle before you could say another word, but you quickly followed after him. "Am I even allowed to be here?" you asked. Sherlock shrugged a bit. "Does it matter? Surely you're at least a little bit curious." Your lips slowly spread into a smile. "Maybe a little bit," you admitted. Sherlock smirked to himself and headed into the crime scene, telling everyone that you were with him so they'd leave you alone.

Inside the room, Sherlock observed you from the corner of his eye. You managed to stay out of the way, not touching anything that could become contaminated, but your eyes still wandered the room. Sherlock admired the way your brows scrunched over your eyes as you concentrated. It seemed you too had already noticed something out of place.

"What do you see?" Sherlock asked. Lestrade glanced at you too and you silently asked permission with your eyes. Lestrade nodded. "Why is she dressed like that?" you asked. Sherlock had to fight back a smile. You were far more observant than he gave credit for at first. How you had instantly picked up on it was a mystery in itself, but Sherlock wasn't going to question it now.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Lestrade asked. You looked to Sherlock who prompted you to continue with a slight nod. You indicated to the hotel bathroom with your hand. "There are dirty clothes on the floor and an outfit laid neatly on the bed. Her hair is damp which means she probably already took her shower. But she's dressed in something completely different than the clothing she laid out. It's even still sitting there like she hadn't touched it after her shower. Not even her undergarments. You would think she'd be wrapped in a towel or robe or something."

"Very good, Miss Y/L/N," Sherlock praised lightly, causing you to bit your lip and look down sheepishly. "Oh god, there's two of them. Alright. Anything else." For what felt like several minutes but was actually a couple of hours, you and Sherlock examined the entire crime scene, though you were a little reluctant to get close to the body. You bounced ideas back and forth and Sherlock quickly learned that he enjoyed your company.

When you finished, you followed Sherlock back out. Before hailing a taxi, you turned to Sherlock. "You know, I quite enjoyed myself tonight. I wasn't sure I was going to." Sherlock hummed. He had had a pleasant evening with you as well. It wasn't often that he simply clicked with another human being. Goldfish, as Mycroft called them. But you didn't seem to be like that. You hadn't shied away even if you'd wanted to. You faced your fear and anxiety at the crime scene and showed that you were absolutely more than just a pretty face. You weren't as brilliant as Sherlock, but you didn't hesitate to learn something new or observe new things.

"Let's do this again," he announced. It wasn't a question. Not really. But your face lit up and you smiled again. "I'd like that. For now, I'll let you go solve the case. It's getting close to dawn. Goodnight, Sherlock." You hailed another taxi and climbed in, but not without granting Sherlock one last grin that held a promise of more.

Sherlock found his own cab and made his way back to 221B Baker Street. John glanced up in surprise when Sherlock entered the flat hours later than he himself had. "Are my eyes playing tricks on me or did Sherlock Holmes actually enjoy his date?" Sherlock rolled his eyes but couldn't help the little smirk that came to his face. "Perhaps. Miss Y/L/N is quite an interesting person." John smirked into this tea cup and muttered something along the lines of "I told you so."