(So. This is my attempt at a Valentines Day one-shot for a brilliant young man named Dylan who is pretty much the dorkiest, sexiest (just for you, bud), and most awesome guy I have ever met, or had the privilege of meeting.

Dylan, I freaking love you and I hope this is a good enough one-shot to even begin to compensate for all the ones you've done for me and such. Happy Valentines Day, Hercules. I love ya. *grins*)

“Irene! That is across the line!” Sherlock exclaimed, putting his hand in his hair protectively as he looked at Irene like a terrified puppy.

“Just this once, Sherlock. Please?” Irene asked earnestly, holding a bottle of hair gel in one hand and a comb in the other.

“No! I don’t want to look like some prestigious prick!” He exclaimed, not removing his hands from his hair. Aim snorted from the couch.

“You won’t look like a prick, Sherlock,” Irene insisted, stepping forward.

“No!” Sherlock exclaimed, stepping back so he was standing on his chair, his hair well out of her reach.

“Sherlock!” Irene exclaimed, folding her arms and pouting in the slightest to see if it would affect him… It didn’t. She huffed and stomped back to the bedroom, where Val was being readied for the date.

                Irene had shoved them both into formal, and rather uncomfortable for the both of them, clothes. Sherlock had a tight-fitting tuxedo and bow tie that he had already complained about several times. Val had a fairly short, rather showy little dress that Irene had let her borrow, as well as some high-heels.

                No one was happy by the time that Irene had finished with both of them, and Val and Sherlock were the only ones looking nice. Aim had gotten water dumped on her from Sherlock, and Irene had gotten poked with a few needles, tearing her sweater a little by Val.

                Around ten PM Irene shoved them into a cab heading for some ridiculously fancy and expensive restaurant with no doubt teeny tiny portion sizes.

                “Irene is getting ridiculous…” Val muttered, her arms folded and looking out the window to her right and leaning into Sherlock on her left.

                “Getting?” Sherlock scoffed, putting his arm around her as a reflex. Val chuckled.

                “Good point.” Then she sighed. “I really don’t want to go to some stuffy restaurant.”

                “Me either. That’s why I called for backup,” Sherlock grinned. Val frowned in thought.

                “What?” she looked up at him.

                “Backup. As in Seb getting us a hotel room and comfortable clothes for the night.” He grinned even more, looking rather proud of himself. Val beamed and kissed him quickly.

                “God I love you!” she exclaimed. Sherlock beamed with her.

                “But could you stay in the tux a bit longer? It looks nice on you,” she added. He raised an eyebrow.

                “Only if you stay in that dress.” He smirked, looking her down for a moment. She pouted.

                “But it’s so tight!” She complained. He smiled slyly, and she rolled her eyes.

                “Fine.”

                He grinned.

                “Love you.” He pulled her in for another kiss.

                “I love you too. Happy Valentines Day,” she smiled more and kissed him deeply.

Later, at the hotel room, they were both lounging on the bed watching the TV on the opposite wall and cuddling with each other. Sherlock wore sweatpants and a tshirt and Val wore yoga pants and a tank top.

Both of them were beyond comfortable like this as they made deductions about the people on the crap sitcoms they were watching.

On the commercial break, Sherlock looked down to Val as she messed with his hair.

"I think I like Valentines Day now," he said happily, rubbing her arm. Val looked up at him.

"Me too." she smiled and they kissed again, Sherlock rolling on top of her and turning off the TV.