There he was again, curled up in front of the fire place on that shabby tiger skin rug of his. I could only see his black hair sticking on end from under his torn and mangled house coat, but I was sure he was under their. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, that rhythmic pattern brought on by sleep. It was almost cute seeing him so at peace. For a time I considered curling up behind him and wrapping my arms around him to ensure he was warm enough, but I resisted. It would surly wake him and I was not willing to risk that, not tonight.

Tonight I had plans to make ready. It was Valentines Day and though I was aware that my partner was not the biggest on romance, I though a nice change would do him well. He had been stressed to his limit's the passed few weeks and neither of us had been given a lot of time to spend with one another, so tonight would be all about us. I was going to see that Sherlock Holmes was shown the night of his life.

I had taken Holmes out to dinner many times, though all of them were, in the public eye, as friends. I had no intention of giving us away tonight, but I did have intention of being more of a couple. It had seen in passed days a small theater at the end of Hyde Park Street just a block away from our residence. That night they planned to feature an orchestra with a particular interest in Mozart. I was aware that Holmes enjoyed that music, so I planned to take him around, but not for the show. I had something far better in mind.

I stood from my place on the floor behind the sleeping Sherlock and took my coat from the chair beside me. I set the book I had been reading to pass some time on the cluttered table in the center of the room and picked my cane and a bag I packed up off the floor. I brushed some of my rather unruly blond hair from my face and stepped out of the room, heading passed the door that lead to the room where Mrs. Hudson was no doubt making herself dinner. I had asked her to keep us out of the food for the night. I would be treating Holmes later.

I pushed the front door open and stepped out into the street. I was heading for the flower shop just up the road with the change Holmes had won me in the last boxing night. Though I didn't approve of him getting himself beaten, I had needed the extra money for this. It wouldn't be as good without the roses. As I walked, I glanced up at the sky, noting that I only had an hour or two to set up before I had to wake Holmes and get him ready.

I greeted the shop keeper and paid for four dozen roses. It was rather expensive, but I didn't care. I still had more than enough for dinner. I thanked him kindly and disappeared out the shop again, heading straight for Hyde Park Street. It only took a moment to get there. It wasn't far at all. I walked passed the theater, ducking into a small back ally behind it and pushing some trash cans away from the center of the ally. I rounded the corner into a clearing that was located right behind the theater. I'd stumbled upon it a few days earlier while trying to think of something to do for Holmes. I'd cleared it of trash and made it useable for my purpose.

I took three of the four dozen roses, scattering the content of two on the ground around the outer borders of the clearing. I pulled my bag open, setting the candles I'd placed inside up on the window sills around. No one lived in the houses, they were all storage for an old rich couple. The location was perfect. No one would be able to see us, and therefore there was no danger. I let a pack of matched by one of the candles and processed to scatter the third dozen roses on the sills as well. The last dozen I held very carefully as I left my clean and decorated clearing, pushing the trash cans back into place so no one else would go there. It had to be perfect.

By the time I made it back to Baker Street I was running right on time. I would have Holmes out the door in an hour and the moon would be in just the perfect place to light the clearing just the way I wanted. I moved up the stairs, careful not to let the roses be seen to early. I placed them behind my back, thinking that Holmes would still be asleep. When I pushed the door open, I found that this was not the case. Problematic.

"Good evening, Holmes."

"Watson!" The black haired man spun around happily. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

"Errands to run. Now Holmes, I've got a favor to ask you."

"What's that?" He cocked his head to the side.

"I've got something planned for tonight, but you'll need nicer clothes."

"You don't mean I have to-"

"Yes Holmes."

"But you can't-"

"I do, Holmes."

"But I don't want to-"

"Holmes!"

"Fine." He sighed, moving for the door to his room. He really hated having to wear good clothes.

I waited for almost an hour, as I had predicted I would. It was more than likely that Holmes had realized that the outfit I had just requested he wear was not clean and therefore he had to clean it. I never questioned how he managed to get things clear in that room. It wasn't my place to ask. When he did come back, he looked fantastic. A black dress jacket, a clean white shirt, black scarf and those beautiful dress pants I had picked up for him months ago. They all came together rather nicely and he'd even combed his hair.

I had managed to get dressed in the time Holmes was gone. My typical military dress shirt and my black pants fit me to well to pass up. Plus Holmes had made a comment about liking them some weeks ago. I thought I'd better look my best for him as well. As he stood in front of me looking cross, I presented to roses.

"For you."

He looked at them, seeming a little shocked, but took them anyway. I knew he was not a huge believer in romance, but it seemed like a welcome gesture, until he decided things were getting a little to sentimental.

"I'm not Irean, you know." He chuckled.

"I know, Holmes." My voice was low. "Come."

I turned to leave, glancing back to make sure he was following. He lay the roses carefully on the sofa before following me out of the house looking as casual as he could given the situation. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets and his beautiful brown eyes watched me for clues as to where we were going. I made sure the man had not managed to deduce where I'd been with my clothes.

"Plans hmm?" I heard him speak behind me. "And what kind of plans are these, Watson? Pray, tell me!"

"If you're concerned about the public, don't be."

"My only concern is that it's the day of love and you had dragged me from our home." His voice was to low for anyone but me to hear. "I had hoped we would-"

"Holmes, You'll like it. Trust me."

"Watson!" He was beginning to become frustrated with my cutting him off. "will you please just-"

"No Holmes. You'll have to wait and see."

We arrived at the theater moments later while the doors were closing. I stopped Holmes, making him stand at the corner before the ally. He hardly seemed impressed, protesting that if it was a show I planned for us to attend I was late on getting in. I ignored him and moved the cans again, stepping into the clearing and lighting the candles before I moved back to the theater, taking Holmes hand and pulling him after me.

I moved to push him in front of me, covering his eyes with my hands and moving him forward with my own body. He protested lightly, clearly concerned as to what I was getting him into. I made him stand at the entrance with my hands over his eyes until the performance in the theater started and the music drifted through the clearing. I pulled my hands away, stepping out into the area not cluttered by roses and extended my hand.

"Dance with me, Sherlock?"

He seemed surprised to say the least. For a moment it looked as though he was going to object, but instead he took my hand, allowing me to pull him in close and wrap my arms around him. I knew he was doing this just for me, but I was glad he was. I looked up, knowing that he would follow suit, silently pointing out the moon looming high in the sky above us, spotlighting our movements as I took his hand.

"I'm not the best at dancing, Watson." He warned. "I've never done it before."

"Then allow me to lead." I whispered quietly.

I moved, leading him into the slowest and move wonderful waltz of my life. I could feel that he was tense when we started, but slowly he began to relax, allowing me to show him the steps. It Didn't take long for him to become comfortable with the steps. I should have guessed a boxer would have good footwork. When he was perfectly comfortable with it, I felt his head rest on my chest.

As the orchestra played a beautiful rendition of Green Sleeves, was swayed to the music, silent and complete there together, not as friends, as loves. As we were. Tonight, we were free.