A/N: This one is in response to a prompt from Guest Who…who wanted to read more about their date.

Coordinated Love – Holmes Style # 2

~ Let's Have Dinner ~

In which Sherlock and Lilly have dinner and by dinner I mean…they actually eat dinner.

The cab pulled up at the restaurant, but the couple didn't get out right away, causing the cabbie to take a gander into the rear mirror to see what the holdup was. He grinned at the sight. Looked to be they was somewat taken up with each other and dinna notice they'd arrived to the destination. Aye, what he'd no give to be young again, he thought. Mind, he hated to put a damper on things, but seeing as the windows were getting a mite fogged back there, he figured it best to try a little throat clearin' to get 'em to come up for some air. Once they did, the tall bloke, seeming a tad bothered bout bein' caught out for a wee bit o' snogging with his bird in the rear seat, tossed him too much for the fare, and was out the door in a chivvy, dragging that little totty behind him by the hand. The bloke dinna stop even after he says to 'im it be too much dosh, just shook his head, waving 'is hand bout impatient like, and grunting somethin', the meaning of which seemed to be 'keep it'. The cabbie watched them go in the restaurant before pulling away from the curb, shaking his head and musing that the bloke dinna 'ave no need to get all miffed. A nice bit o' tongue-wrestling was nowt to some other doings folks got up to there in the back o' his cab.

Sherlock kept his hand on Lilly's lower back, guiding her into the restaurant, still internally chiding himself for getting distracted again. He really needed to find the solution to this new need to split his focusing capabilities. He was quite confident of his ability to do so. As with most of his other well-developed skills, it was just a matter of figuring out how, once he put his entire mind to it. Which he would be able to do once he finished with this date - Sherlock tried to suppress the mild shudder that passed through him at the word – when Lilly was safely back at Molly's and he was back at Baker Street. It really was a bit difficult to focus on a solution now, what with the fact that he was literally starving to death, not to mention the constant stimuli of Lilly's presence surrounding him and currently having an effect on all his senses. But quite lovely stimuli it was, he couldn't help thinking, as he glanced down to see her grinning mischievously up at him. He sensed that she was amused by something he had done again, though he wasn't exactly sure what it could be. Nothing out of the ordinary had transpired, other than their exiting the cab and entering the restaurant.

Thinking perhaps he may have stepped into some rubbish or possibly the buttons of his coat were misaligned, highly unlikely though it would be for either of those scenarios, he performed a swift perusal of his person, but this revealed nothing seemed to be out of order. He frowned slightly, while absent-mindedly ruffling his unruly curls a few times with his free hand, as he gave it a moment's further thought. But no. Nothing came to mind. In the end, he determined there wasn't anything that Lilly should be finding remotely amusing about his appearance. He quirked an inquiring eyebrow down at her. She responded by reaching up to run her fingertip lightly along his lower lip, the sensation of which Sherlock admittedly found on the whole to be rather more than agreeable.

Or at least agreeable until she removed her finger from his lips and held it up for him to observe how the pad now possessed a faintly shiny smear on the tip of it. He captured her finger with a few of his own and lifted it to his nose, which detected at once the subtle scent of artificial strawberry. A fruit scented substance. How had he come to have it on his lips?

It took his brain all of two and a half seconds to process the answer: Leaving Molly's flat. Hungry. Wanting to go. Having to wait for Lilly. Stopped at mirror. Why? Lilly looked perfectly fine. Fluffing her hair. Applying something glossy from a tube to her lips. Wanting to kiss them. But impatient to get going. The cab ride. Ah. Yes. Of course.

He sniffed the end of Lilly's fingertip once more to complete his analysis. Based on his recall of the shape and distinctive font on the tube, unless he was completely mistaken, chances were better than 85% that the brand of the lip gloss was Natio Ultra, with the actual scent being the one called Strawberry Sundae. Sherlock made a mental reminder to have little a peek into her handbag later to see if he was correct. Which undoubtedly would be the case.

So. Apparently, during the cab ride and the subsequent activity with which they had been absorbed in to the point of distraction, some of that gloss had been transferred from her lips to his. Ah. Well. Perfectly logical outcome, he supposed.

Turning his attention back to Lilly, he pulled a fake disgusted face, just to make her laugh, which she did as she pulled a tissue out her handbag and handed it to him. He had just enough time to wipe the offending substance off his lips, and shove the now Strawberry Sundae scented tissue into his coat pocket, before a waiter was standing in front of them looking expectant.

"Table for two, sir?"

Sherlock started to reply in the affirmative, when suddenly they were approached by his former client, and owner of this restaurant, Geoff Wilkes-Smythe. "It's alright, Brian. These are the special guests I have been watching out for. I'll take it from here."

Brian nodded and headed off to check on his tables, while Geoff reached out to shake Sherlock's hand warmly and waited to be introduced to the lovely young lady at his side. The sight of Sherlock with the young woman, who was so obviously his date, had surprised Geoff for a moment, as he had been under the impression that Sherlock and his doctor friend were together. They had certainly acted like an old married couple. Apparently not, he thought. Geoff took another moment to readjust his mistaken impression of the detective, though he was pleased to see that Sherlock and his lady friend made an equally attractive couple.

"Sherlock! I'm so glad that you decided to stop by after all. I've been planning your menu since you texted. We are going to have a treat for you and your friend this evening."

"Hello, Geoff. Thank you for fitting us in on such short notice."

Sherlock managed to remember his manners, in spite of the fact that the pleasing odors emanating from the kitchen were extremely distracting. He stopped inhaling them long enough to note the way that Geoff was staring with great interest at Lilly, who had unconsciously threaded her hand through Sherlock's arm while he had been greeting their host. Ah. Yes. Pleasantries. There did seem to be a lot of those when Lilly was around. Was he going to be forced to perform theses banalities of human existence indefinitely? He pulled his annoyance under control and forced a polite smile to his face as he introduced them. Recalling Lilly's tendency to have her social position obscured and knowing how Geoff would likely to react to having Lady Lillian Fairfax in his restaurant, Sherlock decided to keep it casual.

"This is Lilly. Lilly, Geoff." Sherlock's voice was brisk during the introduction, then lowering it, he continued in a mildly amused aside to Lilly, "I was able to be of some small assistance to him a few months back in determining the identity of an intruder."

Geoff nodded a welcome to Lilly and gestured for the two of them to follow him as he threaded his way through the crowded tables toward the collection of small rounded high back booths lining the rear wall. "Anything for you, Sherlock. If it wasn't for you, we would never have figured out what was behind all those strange goings on."

"Yes. Well. Undoubtedly time would have made it all clear in the end without my help." Sherlock responded with a surprising modesty in his voice, then added, after clearing his throat as if to dismiss the entire topic, "It was really nothing."

"Nothing! Oh this man. So modest. Has he ever told you the story? No?" Geoff continued speaking as he led the couple to a cozy intimate booth in a very nice dim corner. He was a big believer in setting a mood, and the mood needed for Sherlock and his lady friend was as romantic and undisturbed as possible. He recognized well kissed lips when he saw them. Gesturing grandly toward the table with sweep of his hand, he winked at Lilly as he watched her slide into the booth, then leant in, adding in a stage whisper that Sherlock couldn't help but hear, "Well, Lilly my dear, you make sure that he tells it to you tonight. It's tale of mystery and suspense with a cracking good ending."

Once the couple was seated, their faces lit from the low candle burning on the table, Geoff began to solidify the menu choices he had in mind for Sherlock and Lilly. Sherlock's was easy. Geoff had a feeling that the man was hungry and frankly, it was clear that he didn't eat enough normally, so hearty and filling came immediately to mind. For Lilly, his mind turned to pondering on dishes a bit lush and creamy, but also refreshing.

"So, I think for the starter, we will begin with a different soup for each of you. For you Sherlock, I would recommend the Spiced Saffron and Mussel, as the spicy mussel mix is full of warming flavours and interesting textures, paired with a glass of Alsace Gewurztraminer which makes quite an exotic match for the soup." He paused in thought, going over the options available in his mind, and then turning to Lilly with a satisfied smile, continued, "And for the lovely Lilly, I would recommend the Roasted Parsnip and Parmesan which is a deliciously sweet and creamy soup, nicely paired with a glass of off-dry white Riesling. I will also send out a plate of our very popular baked feta filo fingers. Will that suit?"

"Very nicely, thank you, Geoff."

Sherlock quickly stated his approval of both the soup choices and the wine selection. But he needn't have bothered, as Geoff hadn't really been asking, having already made up his mind with regard to the starters.

A moment passed while Geoff stared up blankly at an abstract painting hanging from the wall over the booth, contemplating the choices for the main course, while Sherlock leant forward over the table, looking as if he would really like to move this process along a bit faster, and Lilly relaxed back against the red leather of the booth, much entertained by the whole interaction between the two men. Finally, Geoff shook his head as if to clear it, folded his arms across his broad chest and with one finger taping his lips, he briskly pronounced the dinner selections he had decided on for his two guests.

"Ah, for the main course then, I am thinking our nice hearty Angus Beef Shepherd's Pie for you, Sherlock. Yes, I know it's actually a cottage pie, but my partner preferred the sound of shepherd's pie for some reason, so there you have it. Picture a swirl of creamy browned mash atop ground Angus beef braised in a full-bodied red Cabernet Sauvignon, along with carrots and onions. It is garnished with caramelised onions, garlic, and cheddar, then baked in a cast iron pan and served with greens. The accompanying wine is naturally the same Cabernet Sauvignon used in the braising of the beef. And for Lilly, I am thinking one of our specialties, the Asparagus with Potato Gnocchi, which is in a gloriously creamy gorgonzola sauce. Oh, it's perfectly lovely, Lilly. You will adore it! Our gnocchi are like scrumptious little pillows. And the asparagus is fabulously tender. The accompanying wine will be a grassy Sauvignon Blanc, I should think."

Much to Sherlock's relief, as soon as the restaurateur had finished reciting his choices, he decisively turned away from the table, and without further comment, purposefully went to place the order with the kitchen. No doubt food would soon follow. That thought allowed Sherlock to take his mind off his hunger and to turn it to his dining partner. Whom he had noticed, now that they were alone for the most part, as the sides of the booth were actually quite high, was shyly fiddling with her water glass. His relief faded again and the nagging word date popped up in his head to torment him once more.

Truly all of this was John's fault. Everything would have been fine if John hadn't made it complicated by calling it a date. Sherlock categorically did not do dates. He had never, at least before this, even considered wasting time on such nonsense. As he had told John at Angelo's months ago, girlfriends were not his area. Of course, that comment had led to John asking about boyfriends, which led Sherlock to the worrying notion that he had somehow completely miss read John's sexual orientation and instead of just a new flatmate and potential friend, he might to have to deal with the man's possible attraction to him. God knew he'd had enough of that silliness from Molly at Barts, and he certainly hadn't wanted to have to deal with it at home also. In the end, it had been a profound relief to find that John wasn't gay after all.

While Sherlock was off in his own thoughts, Lilly was also. She was taking herself to task for allowing the passing thought that had entered her mind after Geoff had left them alone again - that this was like a date - to make her unsure what to do next. This was Sherlock. They were merely having dinner. But then the thought that he had asked her out to dine with him kind of made it a date. And though they had come to some sort of an arrangement back at Barts, she still wasn't sure exactly what they were. A couple, obviously. Much as Sherlock detested that word. That thought made her smile just a bit, thinking of him waving his hand all round and making those ridiculous faces. She had looked up at him only to see his eyes unfocused, face blank and staring into the candle. Ah. Gone again. Then suddenly a small smile came to his lips as if with a pleasant thought and she spoke before she could stop herself.

"Away again, I take it." Lilly's amusement in Sherlock's occasional tendency to go off in his mind helped her to get over her sudden bout of shyness. "What are you smiling about?"

Lilly's question broke into his thoughts, causing him to glance up at her sharply, the smile he hadn't been aware of fading quickly from his face. He'd been away again and clearly time had passed while he had been. He quickly took in the amount of wick remaining on the candle and determined it had been less than two minutes, provided there hadn't been an unexpected draft during that time.

Sherlock looked up from the candle and met her smiling green eyes. What he saw there allowed him to relax back against the booth, with the amused smile returning to his face. "I was just thinking of John."

"John?"

"Yes. And how relieved I was that he wasn't sexually attracted to me." A wicked twinkle appeared in Sherlock's eyes suddenly. "You have no idea how bothersome that can get."

"Oh? Was there a question of that?" Lilly asked playfully, but the question was not answered as they were interrupted by the arrival of the starters, and the whole of Sherlock's attention became riveted on the food being placed before him.

The soup and feta fingers had been delivered to their table by a very small, thin, verging on tiny, young woman with wispy blond hair. After arranging the bowls and several small plates in front of each of them, she then stood waiting impatiently by the side of the table and staring from under her fringe at Sherlock with what could only have been eager delight. From the moment the bowl was set in front of Sherlock, eating was the only thing on his mind and so he took no notice of the waitress. Lilly had smilingly thanked her as she was laying out the dishes in front of them, but when the girl showed no sign of leaving, she began to wonder what she was waiting for. The young woman was positively vibrating energy. And it was all directed at the oblivious man seated across the table.

Sherlock was so engrossed with selecting a slice of the crusty bread from the plate to the left side his soup bowl and preparing to dig into the divinely aromatic soup placed in front of him, that it took him rather a bit to realise that the annoying sensation coming from his leg was the result of his dinner companion tapping her foot against it with increasing rapidity. He tore his attention from the bread to spare a quick questioning glance over at Lilly, who inclined her head in the direction of the person still standing for unknown reasons by their table. He looked over at the girl, obviously irritated at her continued presence, which was interrupting his quest for food. But once he met her gaze, a true smile, one that warmed even his eyes, came to his face. He put his soup spoon down to greet her properly, and with a voice full of such sincere affection, causing Lilly to feel a bit jealous suddenly.

"Ah. Emily. I see your situation has improved much for the better since last we met." When Emily quirked an eyebrow and gave him a knowingly look, he elaborated. "Hair. Trimmed by someone who knew what they were doing. Clothes. New and not inexpensive. Posture. Confident and open. In addition, this is not the first time you have laid a table for customers. Your placement of the accompaniments clearly bears that out. So. He took my suggestion then. Good. And school?"

"Yeah, he did. Been living upstairs too. Took a bit to get it livable, but you know I'm not fussy and G's been really great about getting the repairs done. Start at the culinary school next month." The girl had a surprisingly deep voice for such a small person, though the delivery of the words was lazy to the point of languid. She then jerked her head to indicate Lilly, without actually looking in her direction. The girl's eyes were still only for Sherlock, as she asked in a voice that could only be termed impertinent, "Who's this then? Where's Dr. John? When G said that you were coming by to eat, I figured that he'd be with you. He's always with you."

"John had other plans for the evening. This is my friend, Lilly. Much like you, she also was a case. Our latest case actually. "

"Really. Can't say she looks like much of a case." Emily's voice was bored sounding as she finally bothered to glance in Lilly's direction. She flashed a cheeky grin at Sherlock as she turned back to face him, dismissing Lilly once again from her attention. "Yeah. Well, I'll leave you to it then. G said I wasn't to keep you too long from your nosh-up and Table 5 is waiting on their bill. See you later, Detective Man?"

"You will if you plan to continue bringing us food. If you don't, then probably not. I've not plans to hang about this time waiting for you to come out and play, Emily." Sherlock shook a finger at the girl in a playful scolding until she shrugged her shoulders and abruptly turned to walk away from the table. With the deep sigh of satisfaction, he finally picked up his soup spoon and began to eat.

Lilly watched him for a moment, deciding whether or not to ask what that had been all about. She ultimately came to the conclusion that if he wanted to explain he would, and so selected a feta finger to give her something to do with her hands while she tried to calm the exasperation caused by Emily's rude dismissiveness of her. A nice healthy swallow of her 'off-dry white Riesling' went a long way toward helping her to also overcome the completely unreasonable crossness she was feeling in response to Sherlock's obvious fondness for the girl. Well, most of it anyway. Finally, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she completed her quest for calm. Once relaxed again, Lilly started on her own soup which was as sweet and creamy as promised and quite lovely after all.

Throughout all of this, Sherlock had been making steady head way through his soup, along with the crusty bread and the majority of the feta fingers. The phrase 'man on a mission' came to Lilly, while she watched him, very pleased to see him eating so. At last, Sherlock pushed the empty bowl to the side and the last of the feta fingers disappeared between his lips, to be followed by the remainder of his Alsace Gewurztraminer. As he put the wine glass back down on the table, he grinned suddenly at Lilly, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"You didn't care much for Emily." It wasn't a question. Just a bald statement of fact. And the last thing Lilly wished to talk about now that she had finally managed to release the tension the girl had caused in her. When Lilly didn't respond, other than to keep a steady gaze on his face, he leant forward and took her hand in his. "Your body language gave you away. When you began tapping my leg to get me to notice Emily, your smile and the fact that your head was tilted sideways toward Emily indicated you were slightly amused by her presence and mildly interested in what she wanted. As Emily and I conversed, your attitude toward her altered. There was a specific change in the crossing of your legs. You shifted to cross your leg to point away from Emily as you began to perceive a threat from her continued presence. Then there was the slight shake of your head, a very small movement, I don't believe you were even aware of doing it, signaling your building frustration. At this point your smile had turned tight-lipped and you began to adjust the right cuff of your blouse with your left hand, both of which are barrier protective signals and also indicate rejection. Finally, just before Emily left us, you had moved your left hand up across your body to clasp the upper part of your right arm, also a barrier protective signal and a form of self-hugging. In essence, you were by this point feeling insecure and attempting to reassure yourself due to unhappy feelings. Ergo: You didn't care much for Emily and more to the point, the attention I gave her."

Lilly felt a flush of embarrassment moving up her cheeks as Sherlock released her hand and leant back against the leather booth, finished with his discourse regarding her recent behaviour. Behaviour she wasn't exactly proud of to be truthful. Not to mention, it was a bit disconcerting to have one's inner self just exposed like that. Quite frankly, she didn't know if she should be impressed or angry, though in all honesty, she was leaning toward impressed. Fortunately, it was her turn to be saved from having to respond by the arrival of the entrée, thankfully delivered by a different waiter. She was reasonably certain she didn't need a repeat performance of the Sherlock and Emily show.

Dinner To Be Continued…(I promise.)

A/N: Apologies for the extremely long wait for this chapter. I was suffering from the writing blahs for some completely unclear reason. There I was, stuck at 3,300+ words, not liking any of them, and starting to panic. So I had to walk away from it for a bit, until I could find my way back. Which I did today and now with nearly 1,000 additional words, I can honestly say I'm liking them all rather well. I hope you do also.

On a side note: I had actually already written CL-HS #2 which was going to be about the boys the next morning at Baker Street and titled Cure for a Hangover, but I wasn't sure about it because it really wasn't about Sherlock and Lilly. So I reworked it, taking Ron Somers out, putting Mike Stamford in, along with leaving Sherlock suffering from a longing for toast instead of Lilly, and posted it as a stand-alone one-shot of the same name. If you have any sympathy for John at all, go read it and have a giggle. – Laters, RS xx