Much thanks to MLC for looking this over for me!

I don't own them.

John and Sherlock were enjoying a nice dinner at Angelo's. After helping Lestrade close a case only ten minutes away, John had expressed a desire for Fettuccine Alfredo. A smiling Angelo had shown them to their regular table. The late hour meant the restaurant was less than half full despite the day.

With John enjoying his dinner, Sherlock decided it was a good time to discuss something that had been on his mind the past few days.

"John, there's something I want to talk to you about."

His mouth full of noodles, John nodded his head to let his partner know he was listening.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Well, it's just. We've been living together for five years now, involved romantically the past thirteen months and sharing a bedroom the last six. It seems rational that we-"

He stopped when John first looked surprised and then panicked before coughing violently. Once he had drunk some water and had himself under control, John spoke.

"You really aren't going to do this are you? Today of all days?"

Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion, "I fail to see what difference the date on the calendar has on this specific topic."

Frustrated, John gave a huff. "I know you rarely know what day it is and all but even you can't have helped but notice the significance of this one."

Still puzzled at the unexpected turn the conversation had taken; Sherlock looked around the restaurant and took in the decorations. A cutout pair of hearts was hanging over each seating area and a piece of stiff white paper rested in the middle of every table, a romantic poem written on it. Sherlock turned his attention back to John.

"It's the fourteenth of February, Valentine's Day. We don't celebrate after agreeing it is a 'day of love' fabricated by greeting card companies so they might see a dramatic increase in sales."

Relieved he was closer to making Sherlock understand the problem, John relaxed, "You're right, we don't celebrate and I am very happy about that. I just think coming to an agreement about something so important today would be cliché and ridiculous."

John expected to see disappointment cross Sherlock's face, but confusion deepened instead.

"It's common for a person to talk to their partner about removing left behind items from the upstairs bedroom vacated months before so a proper lab can be set up in the space instead?"

Now both men wore matched expressions.

"What are you talking about?" John asked.

"Just what I started to tell you before you nearly choked on your dinner. We've been together a while now and you've been sharing what used to be my room for some time. I believe it would be best if I took over the upstairs room. My lab equipment would no longer be taking up space in the kitchen. I felt sure you would be happy about my idea. Your panicking would suggest otherwise."

"No, it's not-" John paused to shake his head, take a breath and try to get them back on even ground despite the embarrassment it was sure to cause him. "See I thought you were talking about something very different. I mean, you started going on about how long we've known one another, then how long we've been together and all and I thought, I mean just, I just thought."

A glance Sherlock's way let John know he had more to explain, "I thought you were asking me to marry you!"

It was Sherlock's turn to be surprised and John would always wonder how his eyebrows managed to rise go up so high. Before they could say more, Angelo came over and asked if everything was all right. After assuring him the food was just fine, John requested two containers to take the rest of their dinner home.

When they were alone again, Sherlock spoke, "I must ask, have you any problems with my proposing other than it happening today?"

It was easy to believe Sherlock's self-confidence bled into all areas of his life, but the few allowed close to him knew differently. John was quick to reassure him.

"No, I just couldn't bear the thought of telling everyone we got engaged on Valentine's Day."

Satisfied, Sherlock leaned back in his seat. "Well then, I have to admit to being disappointed you would think me capable of doing something so dull. If I was going to propose, I would hope to have come up with a more original way of doing so."

John chuckled, until a certain word sunk in. "What a minute, if you were going to propose?"

"Well yes," Sherlock answered defensively. "There are two of us in this relationship. Nowhere does it say I must be the one to propose. You have never considered proposing marriage to me?"

Wasting no time, John said, "Yes, yes I have."

"All right then.

Billy came to the table, containers in hand and asked if they wanted dessert. The two men declined. He wished them a good night and headed back to the kitchen.

While putting on his jacket, John couldn't help but ask, "Have you imagined proposing to me?"

Leftover food in hand, Sherlock shrugged, "perhaps once or twice."

"Only once or twice?"

Sherlock headed for the door, but John heard the whispered words, "maybe a dozen."

Smiling, John waved goodbye to Angelo and followed his partner outside. As infuriating as he could be, there were times when the man was just adorable. As they walked home, he brought them back to the original topic.

"Why were you so nervous when you started all of this earlier?"

"To be honest, I wasn't sure how you'd react. I know you would appreciate getting everything out of our regular living space but I worried you'd be afraid of something exploding and blowing the roof off."

John fell behind for a moment, his giggles making it hard to breathe. Once he'd caught up again he said, "Despite your best efforts, the flat is still in one piece. I suppose it would work out nicely." His voice took on a stern tone. "As long as you realize I won't go looking for equipment to wash. You'd better bring your dirty things down to clean when you're finished and by that I mean you will be the one to clean them."

Linking his arm with John's, Sherlock agreed. "Yes, of course."

They finished their walk in silence, both content to be in one another's company. Once back at 221B, John put their food away and then sat in his chair.

"If you propose first, just remember: I want to be wined and dined. Which means music, flowers, the whole package."

He joined Sherlock in laughing.

"And if you propose first," Sherlock said once he could speak properly, "I want something different. No dinner at a fancy restaurant for me."

"I'll just have Lestrade find an interesting murder and get down on one knee a short ways from the body, shall I?"

Sherlock thought for a moment, "Definitely different but perhaps a bit much, even for us."

"I wasn't serious!"

"Too bad," Sherlock teased. He thought for a moment. "So, you want a classical approach for your proposal."

John nodded, "And of course you want something original."

"This is me we're talking about."

"Naturally."

"I'll be sure to make the event memorable," Sherlock promised.

Shaking his head at their silliness, John looked toward their front windows. Joke as they might, he wasn't about to tell Sherlock he had plans. With only one more piece needed, John hoped to set things in motion in just four days time. It would be an occasion they'd always remember and let Sherlock know how much he meant to John.

Stomach full, heart light, he closed his eyes and smiled.

I plan on posting a new one shot for the next three Wednesdays. Fics are already betaed and ready to go. :-)