Chapter One

It was a pleasant evening for the two of them. Even though it began very subtly and bluntly, not meaning anything, completely one-sided. It had always been one-sided for John. Ever since they met, it had always been one-sided. He had just returned from Afghanistan and was looking for a new start back in his home of London. When his friend Mike Stanford had been told that he needed a flat share, he sent John to the one other person he knew back at Bart's who woulda any him for a flat mate. He introduced them, the army doctor to the witty, observant taker. Although John was intrigued, Mike had left out the fact that this person who would take John in was a woman. John must have been really desperate, because he agreed to live with her.

A man living with a woman without there being any sort of intimacy was a bit odd. They always had to watch out for each other, make sure they didn't catch each other naked and all that. And living together raised a lot of rumors as well. Their landlady, Mrs. Hudson, always thought that they were dating, despite John constantly reminding her that he wasn't interested. Mrs. Hudson couldn't believe that Sherlock was one to date anyone, telling John how stubborn and ridiculous she could be, but thought it was nice that she was at least trying to make friends with him and never lost hope that Sherlock and John would soon be together.

John tried to disprove the dating theories. Every chance he got, he'd try to date someone he really liked, someone besides Sherlock. He had plenty of girlfriends because of it, each one of them a failure. Each one either left because of a mutual decision or because of Sherlock. Most of them left when they came to the flat to find Sherlock there, thinking that John was cheating on her with them, although Sherlock never seemed to mind. Some girls stayed after meeting Sherlock but soon left when they realized who they were competing against. John hated this, wished Sherlock wasn't such a big deal to his girlfriends, but she always was.

John never saw Sherlock that way, at least at first. At first, Sherlock was just some girl, and a crazy one at that. She was a woman of science, a consultant for Scotland Yard, enticed by murder and crime-solving, always craving adventure and mystery, always looking to be clever. She was always stubborn and narcissistic like that, never too sympathetic, not exactly human in nature, never wanting to be. She always wanted to be something more than a normal person. That was how it was at first. Men have wanted Sherlock before, it's true. John never felt like he wanted her that way at first, but even DI Greg Lestrade admitted to John that he was interested in Sherlock at a time. John had convinced himself he'd never feel that way for Sherlock. But over time, he did. Despite her being stubborn and narcissistic as well as being one of bad habits (such as an old drug habit and keeping body parts in the fridge like the murderer in a Hitchcock movie), over time John found some good in her. She was clever and amazingly smart, knowing more about science and detail better than John's eyes could see with one glance. She was almost always very stoic, but when she did noticeably feel, it was very humanizing. John always saw in her eyes if she was pleased or hurt, whether she expressed it or not. He often found himself looking at her expression a lot.

Men fell for Sherlock for a reason, because not only was she brilliant, but she was also physically attractive, although she never thought so herself. She was tall, even when she wasn't in heels, and had a slender figure under her big, black coat. Her skin was like ivory, contrasted to her dark, curly hair that reached down just past over her shoulders when it wasn't tied up in a ponytail, the hair tie always missing a section of her hair that would fall over her face. Her lips were a sweet pink color when not coated in blood red lipstick (which she only ever wore on occasion), and her eyes were big and popped with color, blue or green on a sunny day, grey when it was cloudy. Her voice was clear, her diction precise, but her laugh brought joy to a room, at least in John's mind.

John had been like every other man Sherlock had ever encountered. Yes, John had fallen in love, even though he tried so hard to prevent himself from doing so. Even so, he'd never reveal his true feelings to Sherlock. She would most likely not feel the same way and shame him for ever feeling that way about her. That wasn't even the worst she could do; John couldn't imagine what the worst thing Sherlock could say or do was. Most likely, Sherlock would figure it out beforehand. John never tried to get to her because of it. But one day, he did.

One night after a tedious case, Sherlock was lying on the sofa, her arm dangling down to the floor, staring at the ceiling. John was putting some groceries away into the pantries and the fridge, since Sherlock never even bothered to buy groceries. He could tell she was bored; she was always bored if she couldn't occupy her mind with murder or experiments or something.

"Bored," Sherlock sighed exasperatedly. She waited to see if John would respond, but he was occupied with the groceries at the moment. "Bored," she repeated in a louder tone. John just smirked, now aware that she wanted attention. She was funny like that, according to him. When no response came from John, Sherlock made a third attempt to get his attention. "Bored!" she shouted as she threw a pen into the kitchen, almost hitting John in the face. John moved away so the pen just missed him and landed on the other side of the table. John sighed, knowing that if he didn't do something that she'd start throwing knives or something just as dangerous.

"What do you want me to do about that?" John asked. "There's not much I can do to cure your constant boredom."

"You're creative," Sherlock replied, "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Was that a joke?"

"Jokes are dull."

"Of course..." That's when John got the idea. It was creative, like Sherlock wanted it to be, but it was also rash and rather idiotic of him. He took a deep breath before he uttered what he said next. "Why don't we go out?"

"Out?" Sherlock replied. "Out where?" "Like out on...on a date." There was a pause, Sherlock taking time to actually think about exactly what John was offering to her, trying to deduce the meaning between the lines. Finally, she said, "John, um, I'm flattered by your gesture, but I've told you before, I'm married to my work and-"

"It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to!" John interrupted her, a bit irritated. He sighed, calming down. "Look," he continued in a calmer tone, "it was just a suggestion. You don't have to if you don't want to..."

"Oh..." Sherlock looked over to John, tilting her head over the arm of the sofa so that her long, dark curls draped over it. "It doesn't have to mean anything? I don't think that's how a date works."

"I know, but..."

"How about this. We have one date. Just one. One date where we dress nicely and have a good time, just for fun. And then we'll end it and forget it happened. How does that sound?"

"Sounds a lot like a one-night stand."

"Well, we're not having sex, so it doesn't matter."

"Ah. So basically just going out to dinner like we always do on cases, except without the case."

"Sounds dull, but I guess it could work."

"Okay." John smiled lightly, actually having succeeded in taking Sherlock out on a date. Still, he felt rather off, considering that after this date, there wouldn't be another one. Sherlock got up and grabbed her coat, and the two of them went out to dinner.

John agreed that they go to Angelo's, since Sherlock had taken him there before and they get their meals for free since she got the owner off a murder charge. John felt rather bad for not being able to pay, since it is customary for the man to pay on the first date. Well, of course, it was Sherlock's idea, and it saves John money, so he didn't mind it for very long. John made an effort to have an intimate conversation with Sherlock. It wasn't too easy, considering she knew almost everything about him, and every response she gave was rather complicated or logical rather than fun and creative. It was almost like dating Spock. But as the night went on, the conversation became more interesting. John feared that the two of them might have had more than enough wine at the table, but still it gradually became lighthearted and a lot of fun. John didn't suppose that anything would go unexpectedly once they finished eating and headed back to the flat.

The sex, however, was unexpected.

Sherlock admitted to John that the night, although it was interesting, was still rather dull. She told him that she thought it would be more exciting than it was. John suggested that they make it a little more exciting, and that is how they ended up in bed together.

It was awkward at first, for John, because he wasn't sure if he should be doing it. He worried she wouldn't like it, her having admitted to losing her virginity for the purpose of experimentation back at Uni. He was concerned that something could go wrong as he slipped the condom on and prepared himself for what was to come.

He wanted it. Oh, God, how he wanted it all - to be with her, for her to be his, for them to be this close, this intimate. It didn't matter to John that it was all for the sake of fun, to relieve Sherlock's boredom, and that it wouldn't matter by tomorrow. All that mattered was that it was only for one night. One night to call her his, one night to be intimate, and just like Cinderella, it'd be all over by morning. Better make the best of it, he thought.

And so, for one night, John got what he wanted, to be with Sherlock. He loved her even more than he had before as he lay with her in bed. He had one night with her, one magical night that he wouldn't take back for anything in the world. It was sad, though, how she would never feel the same way about him. He didn't think anything would change that and they'd always remain just friends, roommates, partners in crime, never a couple.

Little did they know that that night would change their relationship for good.