He put another bag of popcorn into the microwave and waited for it to heat up, leaning against the counter and watching as Hamish got a drink of water from the sink.
"So how's it going? Having fun?" John wondered, just a little bit of small talk while they listened to the kernels popping in the microwave. The kitchen slowly started to smell like popcorn, that delicious smell of fake butter that clung and sizzled to the side of the bag.
"Oh ya, this is so much fun! We're playing with the dinosaurs." Hamish said proudly, as if that should come to some shock to John. But he just played along, nodding enthusiastically with a look of interest.
"Good, I'm glad you're having fun." John agreed with a smile.
"What are you and Molly talking about?" Hamish wondered.
"Oh you know, just stuff." John shrugged. He was going to tell Hamish about the date tomorrow sometime, but most certainly not tonight, not with Archie around. Besides, tomorrow was Saturday and he was going to need a little help with his outfit and food choice. Archie was his number one wing man, and in order to help out with the date preparation he had to know just what was going on. When finally the popcorn was done popping John pulled it out of the microwave and dumped it into the bowl, steeling a handful before passing it over to Hamish.
"Thanks daddy!" he said happily, running back to the staircase. It wasn't long until John heard two pairs of little feet scurry down the hallway, and finally a door shut and he knew they were safely tucked away, out of sight and out of mind. Molly sighed heavily from the couch, pulling herself to her feet and brushing off the stray popcorn crumbs that clung to her sweater.
"Well, I better be off." she decided, stuffing her phone back into her pocket.
"You just got here! Don't leave with these two all alone." John frowned. Molly just shrugged, walking over to the door and pulling her jacket back on.
"They seem to be fine. Besides, I've papers to grade and stuff." Molly sighed.
"It's Friday!" John said with a laugh. Was she trying to ditch him or was there something she wasn't telling him?
"I've just got to go John, nothing else to it." Molly assured, checking her watch rather hastily while she did up the buttons on her coat.
"Alright then, well, I guess I'll see you later." John muttered.
"Yes you will, and you better text me as soon as that date is over." Molly insisted. John just shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up for no good reason.
"It's rather odd to think that I won't see you until then." John muttered.
"Don't be nervous John, you'll be fine." Molly assured.
"How do you know that?" John asked unsurely, fiddling rather awkwardly with the bottom of his shirt.
"Because Sherlock is in love you with, and you're in love with him. Those are pretty good odds for a first date." Molly decided. John just shrugged in agreement, not wanting to think about the date right now when he knew that he could never think about anything else.
"Alright, ya, I guess you're right." John agreed.
"Now I've really got to go, good luck John, I know you're going to be fine." Moly assured, giving John a very quick hug before scurrying out the door.
"Bye Molly!" John called, and Molly turned to wave back before she tripped over the hose that was stretching over the sidewalk for the sprinklers. With a very amusing outburst of made up innocent swear words, Molly finally made it to her car, getting into the driver's seat and driving down the road back to her own house, only a couple of houses away. John just sighed, shutting the door and walking back into his living room alone. The rest of the night John spent on the couch, enjoying the solitude before what felt like the climax of his entire life. Something told John that this date wasn't something he could just go into with a smile and a positive attitude, he had to be prepared. There was something about Sherlock, something about the feeling in John's heart that was so much different than Mary. When John had first thought they were falling in love his heart felt excited, not anxious, not nervous. He was thrilled to finally have someone love him back, and at the moment he had thought that just a little bit of assurance was good. He didn't care that his parents never approved, he didn't care that Mary had a past she wouldn't share, nothing mattered to John except that fact that he loved her and she loved him. He never anticipated that she was going to love another man only a year into their marriage. John would've never guessed that she would abandon him and their son. But with Sherlock, he had a good feeling, he had a feeling that Mary never provided him with, trust. John trusted that Sherlock would never abandon him; he knew that Sherlock was a great and trustworthy person, and that he would never even think about trying to break John's heart. This date was going to be the defining factor for anything their relationship could possibly blossom into, one mistake and John could ruin the whole thing. He knew that this needed to be absolutely perfect.

The whole night John couldn't sleep. He was tossing and turning, going over events that could never possibly happen in his head, about Sherlock, about the date, about Molly. Horrible thoughts popped into his head about how the date the next night could go, how he could eat a bad piece of fish and violently throw up in the car, how he could accidently poke one of Sherlock's beautiful eyes with his chop stick and make his date get a trip to the ER, how the sushi cooks could be samurai and slice and dice their clientele in the freezer. All of these situations were totally impossible, it was much more possible that John and Sherlock have a lovely evening and nothing goes wrong, but the slim possibility that it could all go bad made John's stomach twist nervously. He couldn't hear any noises from the other room, but he couldn't tell if that meant Hamish and Archie were asleep or they were just being very quiet. Either way he didn't really care, he was more focused on his own sleep than Hamish's, that kid didn't have anything to do the next day. Meanwhile John had to get up and get showered and look amazing and act amazing and try to compete with the level of perfection Sherlock presented just by being alive. Something about tomorrow scared him a little bit, and he knew that there was this tiny spec of doubt living in his brain, feasting off of his thoughts and adding its own paranoia to the mix. See, this was going to be John's first date with a guy, which was fine, of course. He knew that the feelings he had for Sherlock were real, and he wouldn't have asked another man out if he wasn't sure he was 100% bisexual, but it kind of scared him to consider the fact that he might not be. What if he was just running from his feelings for Mary, what if he hated that woman so much that he wanted to be with someone completely opposite, hence someone of a different gender? It was odd, really, to think how opposite those two really were. Mary had been very controlling, very aggressive and very two faced. Sherlock was sweet, innocent, and ever so happy to do whatever anyone wanted to make their day a little bit brighter. Sherlock was an angel, sent down from heaven to love and be loved, Mary was a devil who crawled out of hell to ruin people's lives and send them into a swirling pit of misery and bankruptcy. Obviously when given a choice between the two anyone who had their brain screwed on right would pick Sherlock. But the whole idea of going on a date with a man, it was rather mysterious. Would it be any different, would he have to act different, would everyone judge them harshly or just think they were good friends going out for dinner together? Would they act like friends or act like lovers? Did Sherlock expect John to hold his hand just to send out a message, or did he not want to show any sign of affection in public to protect his image? Was Sherlock proud of who he was or was he ashamed, and who else knew of his sexuality? It wasn't like he was hiding it, and it seemed that anyone who even passed him on the street could tell that he wasn't exactly heterosexual. I mean, the guy hands out roses for fun, that wasn't exactly a straight activity. It was almost terrifying to think that John's first reputation in this town would be that of the gay man's boyfriend. No one knew him around here, and now everyone will turn their nose up at him in disgust. But gay was okay now, wasn't it? Ugh, John had no idea, just...the idea of being with Sherlock was so beautiful, the idea that Sherlock, as if perfect and as beautiful as he was, that he would choose someone like John to be his partner. It was just a feeling of pure happiness, a balloon about to pop in his chest filled with sunshine and rainbows and glee. John could only wonder if Sherlock was feeling this same thing, if he was sitting in his bed at one o'clock at night pondering over the same exact questions John was asking himself. He wondered if Sherlock was nervous, excited, he wondered if Sherlock even cared. But then again, there was a strong possibility that he was still on the phone with Mrs. Hudson, trying to figure out what he should wear and practicing questions and small talk. Maybe Sherlock was as terrified as John was right now.

Johnwoke up to the sound of shrieking. Oh what a terrible sound that was. At themoment he knew it was only about nine in the morning, and he couldn't care lessif this shrieking was coming from the kids running from a homicidal maniac orbecause there was a cricket in their room. Either way John didn't care, so herolled over and stuffed his head in his pillow, hoping that would drown out thesound of their childish terror. But when it continued John found even harder toclose his eyes and sink back into that peaceful sleep, so his eyes opened inrage and he fell out of his bed, stumbling over the mess of blankets he hadbeen tangled in and walking out the door. The shrieking continued, it wascoming from downstairs, but it didn't sound scared. No, it sounded happy, as ifHamish and his little friend were screeching with glee. Well, that made Johneven more upset, but not until he walked into the kitchen did that balloon ofhappiness completely deflate. The two kids were most certainly in the kitchen,but what exactly they thought they were doing was honestly a mystery. There wasa big bowl in the middle of the counter, flour spilled everywhere, measuringcups strewn across the table, and the waffle maker bubbling and spewing batterout of the sides.
"Good morning daddy!" Hamish said excitedly, looking very proud of himself.Archie was mixing the batter very clumsily, stirring with two hands so that thebowl spun around instead of the batter inside.
"Hamish what are you doing!?" John exclaimed, running over to put a plate orsomething under the waffle maker, where excess batter was dripping down thefront of the dishwasher.
"We're making breakfast!" Archie said proudly. John groaned loudly, it was muchtoo early to deal with Hamish's childish antics.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" John asked in a huff, pushing Archie out of theway and taking a look at their very watery batter. "Did you two even follow arecipe?" John wondered, picking up some batter with the big wooden spoon andletting it drip unattractively back into the bowl.
"Archie found one online, but we didn't have all of the ingredients." Hamishadmitted with a shrug.
"So we improvised." Archie explained proudly.
"How did you...improvise?" John asked worriedly, wondering just what culinary mishapsthese children had managed to create.
"Well, we ran out of milk so we added some water to the mix, there was no sugarso we just added some brown sugar instead, and we don't know what baking powderis so we just added flour instead, it looks like powder so we assumed that mustbe right." Hamish said with a shrug.
"I will be eating cereal this morning, but you two are welcome to enjoyyour...well, I want to call them waffles." John decided with a shrug, fightingthe impulse to gag at the thought of watery waffles. So John sat on the couch,listening to Hamish and Archie trash the kitchen and cringing every time heheard a loud clanging noise, fearing for those shiny granite countertops.
"Could you please keep it down?" John called miserably, poking around at hissoggy cereal and turning the volume up on the TV. He was trying to watch thenews, but god knows that's not going to happen with such action going on in thekitchen.
"Sorry daddy!" Hamish called, but the noise continued until finally they satdown and tried to enjoy their culinary disasters. In the end John had to pourthem each a bowl of coco puffs and fill the trash can with all of the wafflesthey had tried to make.  When they were done eating the kids went back up to Hamish's room to try to enjoy what was left of their playdate, and John was left to try to clean the place up, wiping off the dishwasher, clearing the counters and doing all of the dishes. Finally when the kitchen looked like a kitchen again the doorbell rang, and John could only assume that it was Archie's parents. So when he opened the door he wasn't surprised to see an unfamiliar woman standing at the door with a big smile on her face. Even though John wasn't sure whether or not this Archie's mother or not he greeted her and invited her in while they waited for Archie to pack up his things. 

"Archie come on, we've got haircuts at ten thirty!" his mother called up the stairs, and John heard a great groan from the top. There was some progressive thunking against the wooden steps and John saw Archie's sleeping bag bouncing down the stairs, followed very closely by two very glum looking boys.
"Ready to go?" his mother asked, ruffling his hair with a smile.
"You look tired, what time did you go to bed?" John wondered, noticing the large bags around Hamish's eyes.
"Oh, I don't know." Hamish shrugged, but Archie just giggled a little bit and Hamish fought the urge to smile.
"Probably really late, huh?" Archie's mom guessed, and Archie just laughed a little bit more.
"Well then, thanks for coming over Archie, Hamish, say goodbye." John insisted.
"Bye Archie." Hamish muttered rather glumly, giving his friend a final wave. With a lot more goodbyes and thank yous and we'll get in touches the family of strangers left, and John watched their unfamiliar minivan disappear down the road before he felt comfortable reporting back to the couch. Hamish disappeared back into his room, but John was left with trying to figure out just how he was supposed to break the news to his son. Of course Hamish wouldn't take it badly, he had been routing for this the entire time, but still it was a rather awkward conversation to have. Oh hey, ya your mom's gone and now I'm going out with a dude, have fun with two dads! It wasn't the easiest thing to bring up. But John knew it was necessary, just how he was going to accomplish this was a mystery though. So he idly watched the weather channel, flipping through stations to see any sports recaps just to tell himself that he needed to know. In reality he was stalling, but he didn't need to tell himself that. When the sports channel failed to provide anything but a boring documentary on some boring college athlete no one remembered John got to his feet, turned off the TV, and walked rather nervously up to Hamish's room. The door was ajar, but John knocked anyway, just to be polite.
"Come in." Hamish muttered. John pushed the door opened and walked into Hamish's room, which dispute the move a couple of days ago already looked like a war zone. "HI daddy!" Hamish said with a sleepy smile, laying on his bed and playing some sort of game on his phone.
"Hey Hamish, how are you feeling?" John wondered.
"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" Hamish asked, looking at his father in confusion.
"Well I'm sure you stayed up until misery o'clock, so I was just making sure that you weren't getting sick already." John lied.
"I'm fine." Hamish assured with a reassuring smile, obviously not able to tell when his father was lying. John sighed heavily, pulling out the desk chair and having a seat, watching as Hamish played his game a little bit more and choosing his words carefully.
"Hamish, you're going to need a babysitter tonight." John muttered, the only opening sentence that seemed casual enough.
"Why, where are you going?" Hamish wondered, peering over his phone curiously. John sighed, looking up at Hamish with a sort of nervous smile, hoping that this would go over well.
"Well...I've got a date, actually." John admitted with a small laugh.
"With who?" Hamish wondered, looking very hopeful. John just laughed, shaking his head in embarrassment.
"With Sherlock." John admitted finally. It was like a bomb was dropped; in fact John almost thought that it did with the scream Hamish let loose. His phone dropped onto the bed and he jumped out of the bed, jumping around in excitement and shrieking.
"I KNEW IT I WAS RIGHT! I'M GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER DADDY!" Hamish exclaimed, his smile stretching so widely on his face that it almost looked painful.
"You're alright with that then?" John wondered nervously. Hamish paused his jumping around to answer that question, taking deep breaths, his hair all messed up and his eyes gleaming with joy.
"Alright with it? This is the best thing that's ever happened!" Hamish exclaimed, running up and giving John a big hug. John just laughed, hugging him back and taking a sigh of relief, happy that he had the only permission that mattered. Sherlock was approved by Hamish, which was the best pre-date omen John could wish for.