Here we go again…

Sherlock Holmes mentally sighed in exasperation when the waiter of the restaurant came up and asked him and John, "A table for two?" He could tell what was going to happen based on the man's smile, and knew without looking that his friend was starting to tense up.

"Yes, please." He composed his features into a semblance of politeness.

As they were led to their table, the (obnoxiously gabby and intrusive) waiter, who was obviously having an affair with the woman at the bar, and had never finished school, asked, "Do you want a candle for your table?"

Sherlock expected John to blush and start denying that they were a couple, or else respond with resigned silence. He surprised the detective by doing neither of these things; instead, he looked at the man with a confused expression as he sat down, and asked, "You think I'm on a date with my brother?"

Sherlock blinked; other than that, his face showed none of the inner shock and alarm he was experiencing. The waiter, on the other hand, looked positively flabbergasted, before stammering, "Your-oh, I am so sorry, I didn't know-"

"It's okay," John reassured him. "Believe it or not, this happens all the time. I'd like water with ice and no lemon, please."

The waiter left them, having been embarrassed into submission, and the doctor picked up his menu and began intently scanning it. Sherlock was mildly offended; he should know by now that he wouldn't be able to avoid talking about what he had just done that easily.

"You really are desperate for people not to think we're together, if you're resorting to such measures."

John looked up at him, and then finally said, "You don't think I meant it?"

The detective spent a moment trying to figure out what he meant, and then gave up.

"John, we aren't-"

"Maybe not biologically, no. But in every other way, every way that counts, you're my brother." He smiled. "Yes, it's sentiment; deal with it."

"...How do you figure that?"

"Because all the evidence points to it. You embarrass me in front of my girlfriends, we argue a lot, you're demanding and insufferable and I have to spend a lot of time keeping you under control and safe from harm because you charge off headlong into danger-"

His logic is somewhat undeniable; except for the girlfriends, this sounds a lot like my relationship with Mycroft.

"-but I also love talking with you, laughing with you-heck, doing anything with you, and if I had to I would willingly die for you." He looked back down at the menu. "I'm getting the steak; you feel like eating tonight?"