Most of the day had passed since breakfast and Sherlock still hadn't done anything. Ever since they started dating Sherlock had added an extra flourish to every celebration. For their one year anniversary Sherlock had managed to get Joan's favorite band to come play at the flat for them, and for her birthday it had been a week long trip to Hawaii.
Joan had managed to keep the question behind her teeth, but it was hard not to wonder what she was planning for today. So far all they had done was laze around the flat, finding various ways to entertain themselves.
It was around 7 at night and Joan had Sherlock pressed down into the couch cushions. She was lazily exploring the other woman's mouth, both content to continue enjoying the feel of each other. Sherlock hesitantly pushed her off, Joan now perched on her lap.
"Let's go out."
"What?"
"Let's go out, like a date."
"For dinner? I think I could call up Angelo..." Joan said, moving off of Sherlock's legs to sit on the couch.
"No." Sherlock said, moving to stand in front of Joan. "Dancing."
Joan sighed, unable to stop the smile arising on her face at sight of Sherlock's childish grin. "Sher, you know I can't dance. Hell, I don't think I've even been out to a club since university."
"Please Joan...." Sherlock said, stretching out the vowels in each word.
Joan was silent for a moment. It would be rude to say no if this turned out to be the "big surprise" she had been waiting half the day for. Or there was no big surprise and this was just a crazy Sherlock spur of the moment idea. Either way, there was no good reason to say no.
Joan looked at her and tried her best to seem serious. "Fine." Joan paused the rest of her words, watching as Sherlock broke out into a giant smile. "But I don't have anything to wear, so you don't get to complain about my dress."
Sherlock started walking back to the bedroom. "You won't have to worry about that." Sherlock stopped in the door frame, closing to where only her face was visible. "Go up to your old room."
"Why?" Joan stopped in the hallway, hand on one hip.
"Because I said so." Sherlock said, backing further away into the bedroom.
"Oooo." Joan said, walking back down the hall. "Giving me orders, that's a change."
Joan stepped up the stairs, recalling all the years before they started dating. She had been up the stairs hundreds of times. Half asleep and exhausted after nights working on a case at the hospital, wheezing and gasping after chasing a murderer through the streets of London. In all those times she never thought she would be walking up them years later with Sherlock Holmes waiting downstairs to go out with her.
She grinned at the thought and pulled open the door to her old room. They had never bothered to take it off the lease, despite the fact that neither Sherlock or Joan had as little as stepped in here in years. Sherlock didn't seem to mind paying the few extra dollars for it anyway.
Joan pulled open the door, expecting a cloud of dust collected over years to flood her, and finding something completely different. The room was spotless, each belonging she had forgotten to bring down carefully organized, her bed perfectly put together.
Laying on top of the bed was a gold and silver dress It was strapless, two thin elastic bands replacing normal sleeves. It was made with a gold fabric, silver beading beginning near the middle and continuing towards the hem, which looked like it would fall around Joan's knees.
Joan gasped and moved towards the bed. She ran her hand across it, the rich fabric attesting to the quality. If the dress alone was all she got for tonight, she would have been happy, but knowing Sherlock, there was more to come.
She lifted it off the bed. Her fingers danced over the beading, as though it would disappear if she pressed any harder.
Joan slipped out of her clothes and pulled the dress on, as well as a pair of matching golden heels. She silently dropped down the stairs, checking her appearance in the mirror over the fireplace.
The dress looked stunning, though Joan felt it a poor match for herself. It would take a decent amount of makeup to look anywhere near the quality of the clothing she was wearing.
Joan fussed with her hair for a moment in the mirror, before ducking into the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror and began to dust her eyes with faint traces of gold. She allowed the shimmering powder to blend into the skin, making the shine around her eyes look more natural, and almost ethereal. She lined her eyes and applied a bit of lipstick, but it still didn't seem like quite enough. Joan sighed and fussed with her hair a little, before giving up and heading back towards the living room.
The curtains were open, allowing the late evening light to pour into the room. Joan moved closer, looking out the window at the familiar scenery. The road was dark, a cloudy evening obscuring the moon, the dim light of the street lamps doing little to assist. A wind was creeping in, leaves and old papers beginning to dance across the pavement. Even though the windows were closed, she could feel the cold seeping through the panes. It was like, for a second, she was standing out there, alone and cold, in the darkness.
The sound of heels on the kitchen floor stirred Joan away from her thoughts.
It was Sherlock. She was wearing a gorgeous deep maroon dress that swayed down to the floor. The dress started slim at the top, decorating every one of the curves that Joan had spent years memorizing. There was a sharp cut above on of the knees, the rest of the dress spilling to the ground around it. Sherlock's dark curls ran down the front, accentuating the low cut of the already alluring dress.
Joan stood there, silent and unmoving.
"How do I look?" Sherlock said, a hint of shyness in her voice.
Joan stepped forward her, placing her hand on the small of Sher's back. She pulled the taller woman down towards her, kissing her forcefully. Sherlock groaned, opening her mouth to alone Joan entrance that she quickly accepted. Joan ran her tongue along the inside of Sherlock's mouth, pulling her even closer just with the kiss. She backed away slowly, enjoying the sight of Sherlock's flushed face.
"You look amazing."
The two of them stood silent, the only sound in the room Sher's quick breathing
Joan was the first to break the moment.
"I should go-" she stepped back a inch or two "fix myself up."
The end of her sentence came out as a whisper, and she turned to the bathroom to fix her makeup. Before she was able to pull open the door, Sherlock grabbed her arm, lightly but still enough to get her to stop.
"You look perfect, Joan." Sherlock smiled, staring down into her eyes.
Joan said nothing, pink rising in her cheeks. She opened her mouth to start a sentence, but the words never came out.
"There's a car waiting outside. I'll be waiting for you." Sherlock said, sliding past Joan, making sure to brush her fingers along her wrist.
Joan could smell the faint trace of her perfume in the air.
ČTEŠ
Falling (fem!lock au)
FanfikceSherlock had picked out the ring weeks ago. It was perfect, a thin silver band with the word forever etched on the inside. She already knew Joan's ring size, had deduced it the day after they met, and already knew when she was going to ask. It was...
