Yay! As a gift to a special occasion, my beta (who is a fantastic editor, but unfortunately, not into Johnlock) read my edited version of this story. So, here's another story for you, hope you like it. Has not been Brit-picked.

Ah yes, disclaimer: I don't own them, otherwise the show would be Johnlock all the way. :)

1. The cyclist

Sherlock noticed John's eyes. This didn't even warrant him rolling his own, he had seen this too many times before. John had noticed something, or rather someone, that had drawn an admiring up and down gaze from him.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose, most likely looking at her legs. He raised his eyes to the mirror behind the counter to evaluate the woman. But there was no woman. He looked at John again to get his bearings, then towards the cafe's door. John was looking at a young man's calves.

He surreptitiously looked back towards the mirror. This young man was in his late twenties, a cyclist obviously, given the helmet hanging from his arm, his bike shoes and shorts. Thin, shorter than Sherlock himself, but taller than John by three inches, short dark brown hair, greenish eyes, bright smile. Single (hand), well educated (overall bearing), cycles to work to keep in shape (cyclist bag with laptop, pannier in bike outside has a tie protruding out of it), left handed (holding his wallet to pay), plays guitar in a band on weekends (callused fingertips), works in an office - financial sector (stock market charts protruding from external bag pocket), and why is John looking at him? The cyclist's legs were very muscular on the thighs, and the calves were well sculpted. They were also shaved and tanned.

'Hey, Jamie!'

Before Sherlock understood what was happening, the young man turned his head, then broke into a smile and approached their table.

'Hey, Dr. Watson! How are you?'

Not as young. Up close, mid-thirties. Dresses young.

'Fine, I was going to ask you the same, but I can see you're feeling better. Already biking?'

Jamie tilted his head playfully, 'Yeah, well, it's been three weeks, after all', he shrugged innocently with a smile. Then he looked at Sherlock, eyeing him curiously.

Oh. Not straight.

'This is my flatmate, Sherlock. Sherlock, this is Jamie, one of my patients.'

'Hello. I'm one of his "regulars",' he said self-deprecatingly, but Sherlock didn't react.

'You wouldn't be, if only you followed your doctor's orders.'

He raised one hand, being suddenly solemn, 'Dr. Watson, I promise, I am feeling better.'

John regarded him sideways. 'All right, I'll let you off this once,' he retorted with a mockingly stern face.

Jamie brightened, 'Do you come here often? I didn't think you were in this neighbourhood. Or are you following me to curb my biking enthusiasm?'

'No I'm not,' he chuckled.

'Not in this neighborhood or not following me?'

'Both! We were just passing by and we needed to eat, that's all.'

'Well, you stopped at a good place. I love their food here, and the coffee is pretty fantastic too. I'm here all the time because my flat is just four blocks away. Next time you should try their sweet potato and coconut soup. It may sound strange, but it's absolutely to die for!'

John was amused at his enthusiasm, 'I'll try to remember that.'

'Hey, you said you were curious about my band. We'll be playing at the Two Barrels this coming Saturday at nine thirty.'

'Oh really? I may try to go, if there are no cases...' he trailed off looking at Sherlock.

'That'll be great. Well, I'd better get my coffee and go, otherwise I won't have enough time to shower and change once I get to the office. Good to see you outside surgery, Dr. Watson,' he touched John's shoulder briefly, leaning forward and dropping his voice, 'and not need to be patched up this time. Good to meet you,' he nodded at Sherlock. 'Maybe I'll see you on Saturday then,' he winked and smiled as he walked away.

John waved and a smiled in return, giving another once over as Jamie turned his back to them.

'A "regular"? Too many cycling accidents?' He didn't like the touching and the winking. Jamie clearly fancied John.

'Sherlock, you know I can't discuss patients' cases outside work. Nice kid, though. If there are no cases I might try to go see him play.'

'Not a kid, he's in his mid-thirties!'

'Actually, you're right, I keep forgetting. He's forty years old, can you believe it? I keep thinking of him as a kid because he doesn't look forty.'

'He just dresses younger, that's all.'

'Mm, no, it's not just that. If you look closely, he barely has wrinkles.'

'Hmph, only an overindulgence in anti-aging products.'

John rolled his eyes, only Sherlock would argue about this! 'Whatever it is, Sherlock, he still looks younger than us. Are you done? We'd better get going, Lestrade is waiting.'

'Am I done? You were the one who wanted to stop and eat...'

John sighed as he opened the door, only half listening to the usual string of complaints.

A/Note: One of my cousins did look like he was 25 when he was 40. And 32 when he was 51. A youthful attitude towards life, up to date fashion, anti-aging creams and a healthy lifestyle. So it is possible.