~He'll change his plans to be with you~
Sherlock grabbed John's arm to physically push him into the cab as John quickly looked back at the restaurant where you had just arrived.
"Sherlock! I have a date!"
"And I have a triple homicide. Priorities, John."
John turned to face Sherlock and glared, hands clenching in fists.
"Priorities? One day you'll have to learn I want to be with other people more than you."
Sherlock scoffed, probably coming the closest to laughing as he had in ages.
"John! I was worried you weren't coming, you're a little late."
John gave you a light kiss on your cheek before taking your arm and leading you inside the restaurant.
"I had to deal with my flatmate quickly."
John wiped his bloody knuckles off on his pants as somewhere, Sherlock held his nose and tilted his head back. Anderson and Lestrade had laughed (Lestrade having the decency to try to cover it up) when they saw the consulting detective wounded.
~He makes it known you're important to him~
"John, I can't think if you pace like that. Oh, everybody, SHUT UP!"
Lestrade froze in place as John looked up at Sherlock with a hurt frown. Sherlock brought his hand beneath his chin and after a few long minutes visiting his mind palace, jumped up.
"Come on, John, the game's afoot."
"Don't get shot!" Lestrade grabbed a handful of Sherlock's coat and pulled him to the ground. The detective inspector then cocked his gun and kept it trained around Watson as he ran to where you were tied up.
Lestrade spun around at Sherlock's warning and trained the gun on the criminal behind all of this. He didn't have to stand on guard for long, Watson knocked him out. "That's for hurting her!"
As Lestrade dragged the criminal to a police cruiser, Anderson was wondering why everybody around Watson ended up with a bloody nose.
~He includes you in his social life~
"Um, I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me this evening. Just the two of us-"
Watson stammered slightly as a blush went over his cheeks. He bowed his head to hide it and you smiled, flattered.
"That would be lovely, John."
John grinned before Sherlock came shuffling out of his room with only a sheet on.
"What's she doing here? I'm to bored to deduce."
Sherlock draped himself off the couch, looking rather appealing as he put his arms above his head, trusting the people in the room fully.
"She's spending the evening with me-" John explained briefly before Sherlock cut him off, looking at you before pulling out a gun and aiming it at a spray painted happy smile on the wall.
"Will she faint at seeing a dead body?"
"I guess not."
"Then she can spend the evening with us."
John gave exasperated hand motions before looking apologetically at you. You waved his concern away though. At least you could spend time with his friends as well...
"But I still want that date."
~He talks about his hopes and dreams for the future with you~
"Well, one day I'll hopefully be married then I won't have to worry about making a fool of myself on dates."
You gave John a smile and placed a hand on his cheek, going to press a kiss to his lips before Sherlock bounced a rubber ball off the wall right beside your head. John stopped moving, bowed his head briefly, then turned to face Sherlock. You knew this would be another criticism heavy argument, so you went into the kitchen to make tea.
As you brought it into the sitting room, John stood up and helped you carry the tray. He was the perfect gentlemen at times. "Whoever you marry is going to be a very lucky lady."
John's response slipped out before he could stop himself, and would have made you drop the tray if you still held it. "Hopefully it'll be you."
It wasn't a proposal, but nevertheless made your fingertips numb as you slowly sat down. You soon did need that cup of warm tea as Sherlock picked up his violin.
"I'll be willing to accept it." Sherlock spoke as he adjusted the strings of his violin, playing a few experimental strands. John raised an eyebrow at his friend.
"You? Why would we need your permission?"
"Because she'll be moving in here, naturally."
"Oh, really?" John sounded sarcastic but you placed a hand on his arm as a silent message for him to be quiet. This was not a time to argue, especially as Sherlock played a lazy yet romantic ballad, and John took your hands to dance.
~He values your opinion~
"Everybody shut up, and don't even breathe."
Lestrade rolled his eyes as you looked into the car. As Sherlock nudged you out of the way, you merely sighed and looked at the car, not a single scratch on it though the inside had marks of scratches and a person's desperate struggle. This had been the fourth car as such and Lestrade was starting to get annoyed at the thought this criminal would get away from justice.
"Your suspect isn't in perfect medical condition. Rare blood type."
Sherlock stopped doing anything and looked at you as if insulted. "And how do you know this?" Also meaning, how in the world did you figure it out before him?
"Three different methods of death, no blood spill. There's a sticker on the outside of the car meaning they're all blood donors and their ID said they were organ donors. Someone wants them to die slowly and on the way of the hospital, to get their organs."
Beneath Sherlock's heavy gaze you gave a small and meek shrug, John wrapping his arm around your shoulders as Lestrade gave you a genuine look of approval.
"Fantastic, we'll have this wrapped up in no time."
Lestrade went off to fill in the paperwork as you glanced at Sherlock. "Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be? You're correct, and this will help catch the criminal faster." You wanted to question Sherlock further but his gaze told you that you were reminding him of John, a helpful follower or companion, an extension in some ways of his own skills. The smallest of smiles slipped onto his lips.
~He listens to you~
You sat down on the chair they pointed out for you, and both Sherlock and John settled themselves down in their respective chairs. John pulled out a notebook as Sherlock brought his fingertips together and up to his chin.
"Alright then, tell your story."
"Well, I left for work this morning when I bumped into a stranger- literally. He asked me if he could get me a coffee and I-"
"Did you say yes?!" John looked insulted and you quickly shook your head. Sherlock then waved at John to get him to be quiet.
"You're not even attempting to listen to the facts... Go on,"
"Yeah... So, he had dark brown hair and was tanned, very adorable cheekbones and said his name-"
"What do you mean adorable?" The way John kept interrupting your story, this would turn into a fight.
"He was a very handsome man, John. I'm simply stating that as a fact-"
"That's not a facf but a perspective." With Sherlock now joining in you gave a sigh and crossed your arms.
"Then you two are the detectives, find it." Sherlock jumped to his feet and strode off to John's room, coming back with your lost cellphone and tossing it at you.
"It's cheating if you already knew where it was, Sherlock."
"I deduced where it was, considering this morning after you left, John couldn't shut up about how much he cared for you."
Perhaps it was time for another broken nose on Sherlock's part.
~He does things he may not enjoy, simply because it keeps you happy~
"Now come on, John, and you to, Sherlock."
You fixed Sherlock's jacket as he scowled, Mycroft bitting back a laugh nearby. It was one of those social events of the 'season', Mycroft and Lestrade getting invites because of their work, Sherlock as an homary guest, and everybody allowing a plus one. Lestrade took you, Sherlock grabbed Watson (ignoring how the rules said for it to be a male and female couple- this event had deep historic roots), and Mycroft taking Anthea out of a necessity.
Watson shot Lestrade a death glare as the detective inspector took your arm and smiled at you. You kissed John's lips then Lestrade's cheek before the silver-haired man led you into the waiting black car.
As everybody was inside the limo (on behalf of Mycroft), Sherlock and John frowned and pouted like children.
"Oh, stop acting like a child, Sherlock. It always made mother upset when you never said hello like a good child."
"I didn't upset her. You did by killing-"
You ignored the two brothers as you pointed Anthea out for Lestrade. "Anthea, this is Gregory Lestrade-"
"I know who he is."
Anthea didn't even look up from her phone and you leaned back on your seat before speaking honestly. "Thanks everybody for coming with me, I really wanted to go to one of these things."
Everybody just kept on arguing.
~He's by your side looking after you when you're sick~
"Watson, see your girlfriend."
"Why-? I mean, why do you care? Are you planning on committing murder here? Or do you genuinely care about my relationship?"
"Yes." Sherlock stood up and poured himself a cup of tea as John tried to mentally figure out which question the 'yes' was to. Probably the murder...
With a sign John picked up his jacket and walked out the door.
"Why didn't you tell me you were this sick? To bed now, doctor's orders."
You pouted as John ushered you into your bed and tucked you in gently, stroking your hair.
"I called you, but Sherlock picked up. I asked him not to tell you. How did you know?"
John pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I just have a natural instinct."
"By being a doctor or my boyfriend?"