Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from the plot.

Pairing: John/Sherlock established relationship

Sumary: John is going out tonight. Because Sherlock said so.

I Made Wine From The Lilac Tree

Doctor John Watson heaved a sigh of relief as he finally trudged up the seventeen steps of his flat in Baker Street. Three ten hour shifts back to back in one week had left him completely and utterly shattered. The idea of a long, hot, soak in a bath was practically the only thing that was giving him the energy to haul himself up the stairs. Fishing around in his coat pocket he dug his keys out and wondered briefly if Sherlock was home. A nice night in stretched out on the sofa was what he was after, a bit of telly and some nice warm food would just about do the trick. John sincerely doubted he could gather together the energy to cook so it would be take away for them again. Not that he cared at this point what he ate as long as it was hot. He had barely got his key in the lock, however, when it was flung open to reveal his partner in crime, lover and sometimes supreme idiot; Sherlock Holmes.

"John! Where on earth have you been? Come on, don't just stand there like a disaffected double glazing salesman, get inside!" Sherlock said as he bundled John through the door.

John's brain still felt like he had left it at the surgery so he was having a hard time keeping up as Sherlock flapped about him like an over grown exotic bird and seemed to be chattering away at over ninety miles an hour.

"Sherlock-" John started to ask what on earth was going on until he found his coat being pulled off him whilst it was still zipped up. He staggered slightly as Sherlock's nimble fingers found the zip and manhandled it off of him. John was really lost now. Normally his coat was being forced on him, not off, as Sherlock dragged him all over London tracking down wayward criminals.

"Sherlock just wait a moment! What on earth is going on?" John said as he batted Sherlock's hands away from the hem of his jumper. He was really getting quite cross now but the Detectives seemingly manic energy showed no signs of stopping soon.

"Come on hurry up, I said you'd meet them at eight" said Sherlock, ignoring John's questioning as he seized the Doctors wrist and dragged him towards the bedroom. Out? Who said anything about going out? And with who? John tripped and stumbled his way up the small flight of stairs after Sherlock, who seemed to glide up them as if he were on wheels. Still in complete bewilderment as to what on earth was actually going on, John staggered slightly as he found himself in the middle of their bedroom.

"Sherlock, I don't want…" John started to say but was cut off once again as Sherlock started pulling his jumper up over his head. In normal circumstances John wouldn't have minded at all if Sherlock started pulling his clothes off, but those types of scenarios usually ended with both of them naked in bed together. Still struggling with his jumper, he grabbed hold of Sherlock's wrists and held him firmly in place.

"Sherlock I don't want to go out tonight!" he said exasperatedly. "What I want is to have a bath, order a takeaway, watch a crap film on telly, have a shag and go to bed".

Sherlock had clearly tuned out all of Johns objections, even the shagging bit, as he pulled himself free from John's grip.

"John really do stop being tiresome. You work with these people, surely you can forgo one evening of crap telly and spend an evening with them". He said with an air of someone talking to an extremely dim-witted child.

"What do you mean "these people"? Sherlock what have you done?" John asked sternly as Sherlock began pulling out a pair of Johns clean socks from the chest of draws.

"I simply rang around all your colleagues at the practice and invited them to drinks with you tonight. Honestly John, you're acting like I've killed someone." Sherlock said airily as he shoved a pair of clean underwear and some socks at John.

"You did what? Sherlock I don't want to go out with them! It's bad enough I have to see them at work. How did you get their numbers anyway? I don't even have their numbers!" John said as he thrust the socks and pants back at Sherlock. Talk about the rug being pulled from under your feet.

"Oh it wasn't that difficult really. You'd be surprised how easy it is to hack into the phone companies these days. Why are you giving these back to me? You're supposed to be changing." Sherlock said breezily as he held the socks and pants out to John again.

John stared at him in disbelief. Sometimes he wondered if this was all some elaborate dream; no normal person would hack a phone company for their boyfriends work colleagues phone numbers would they? Sherlock was staring at him with his head tilted slightly to the side, his eyebrows drawn in together in a small frown.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Are the pants and socks the wrong colour or something?" He was beginning to look a bit dejected that he wasn't getting the reaction he was hoping for. Although what suitable reaction was there to finding out your partner has engaged in illegal activities just to secure you a night out?

John sighed wearily. Sometimes when dealing with Sherlock it was just easier to go with the flow. Plus he couldn't stand that look on Sherlock's face when he thought he had done something wrong by John.

"No it's fine. Just give me a minute to get myself together; it's been a long day." John said gently as he stretched out his hand and took the pants and socks from Sherlock.

"So you're not cross with me then? You had that disappointed look on your face before." Sherlock said as he eyed John warily.

"No Sherlock I'm not cross with you. Like I said before I'm just a bit tired. What time am I supposed to be meeting them?"

"Good. I didn't think you would be. I know you miss not going to the pub as often as you used too. I said that you would meet them at the 'Miles End Pub' at eight." Sherlock beamed as he seized John's jumper and yanked it clean over his head.

John merely goggled at him as he tried to remain upright. Why was it that whenever John tried to persuade Sherlock into interacting with people other than dead bodies and criminals it was always met with a resounding no? Sighing heavily he dutifully began getting changed out of his work clothes as Sherlock crossed over to their bed and sat crossed legged in the middle of it.

"Put on a nice shirt too, I don't want you going round looking like you've wandered in off the streets after getting dressed in the dark." Sherlock said chirpily.

John rolled his eyes and tried not to be too offended by Sherlock's slightly insulting remark.

"I thought you liked my jumpers" he said in a hurt voice as he began rummaging through the large oak wardrobe that stood in the corner of the room.

"Oh John stop fishing for compliments." Sherlock said but then added in a much softer tone "You know I like your jumpers, but this is about you making friends, not trying to get me to sleep with you".

John grinned to himself as he recalled a couple of instances where his jumpers had come in very handy in distracting Sherlock.

"What about you? Shouldn't you be getting changed too?" John asked staring at Sherlock who was currently decked out in his pyjama bottoms and one of John's ratty old army t-shirt.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave John a very dismissive look.

"Don't be stupid John. How are you going to make friends if you spend the entire evening talking to me?"

"What? You're not coming with me?" John said as pulled out another shirt from his wardrobe.

Sherlock sighed heavily and crossed over to where John was standing and helped him undo his shirt buttons.

"I'm not good at this whole friends business John, I never have and I never will. I have people that I don't mind too much like Lestrade, when he's not being completely stupid and annoying, but as I'm sure your very well aware I'm not exactly a people person".

"So what am I then?" whispered John as he wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist and pulled him close to him.

Sherlock smiled at him, a proper smile that only John ever saw, "You, my dear Doctor, are everything I will ever need all rolled into one. I would consider anyone else who chose to call themselves my friend wholly inadequate when compared to you."

John grinned back at him and pulled him into a firm kiss. Sherlock really could very kind and considerate when he wanted to be.

"You know we could still have a nice quite night in" John murmured as he slid his hands down the Detectives lean back and squeezed his arse. Sherlock however wriggled himself out of Johns grip and stepped back towards the wardrobe.

"No John you are going out." He said firmly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

John held up his hands in mock defeat "All right, I'll go. I know it must be important to you when you start jabbering away at me like a monkey."

"Good. I'll wait for you downstairs once you've had a shower." Sherlock said promptly as he grabbed his dressing gown from behind the door.

"Wait a minute, who says I'm having a shower?" John said as he threw up his hands in exasperation. Sometimes he had a sneaking suspicion that Sherlock really did have the ability to read minds.

Sherlock looked at him pointedly and raised his eyebrows. Holding up his arm John caught a whiff of himself; it wasn't exactly pleasant.

"Right. Well… I'll just…Go in the shower then." John said sheepishly as he made his way past Sherlock and into the bathroom.

"Oh and don't wear that brown shirt either, it makes you look like a vagrant." Sherlock called as he wandered off back downstairs.

Looking down at the brown shirt clutched in his hand John let out a loud, exasperated groan.

John took his time in the shower. The hot water hitting his skin felt glorious and he wasn't about to get out anytime soon. Half of him still couldn't believe that he was actually going through with this whole bizarre evening. The other half of him, the half that ignored the dead things in the fridge and apologised to strangers for Sherlock's rude behaviour, thought it was actually quite sweet that Sherlock would go to so much trouble just so he would have a good time. They had only been romantically involved for about five months now and John knew that the Detective was still getting his head around the idea of being in a relationship. It probably wouldn't have occurred to Sherlock that he could have simply asked John if he felt like going out and then invite a few people from work, not the entire practise. Nope, that would be what a normal person would have done. He used a liberal amount of Sherlock's posh and ridiculously expensive shampoo by way of compensation.

After shutting the shower off and towelling himself dry, John set about getting himself changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a light red coloured dress shirt. Hopefully this choice of shirt wouldn't make him look like a tramp in Sherlock's eyes, which was a bit rich coming from someone who spent half their life lounging about in pyjamas. John thought that it was best not to dwell on the fact that Sherlock had chosen to ignore the fact that A) John didn't want to go out with people who he barely knew B) forming friendships wasn't some kind of scientific formula that you had to stick to and C) John would much rather be sat at home watching the telly. After fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror and trying to muster up some sort of enthusiasm for this evening's event, John deposited his dirty towel in the laundry basket and headed back downstairs to the living room.

Sherlock was spread out over the sofa with his dressing gown draped over him like a cape and what looked like a chemistry book propped open against his knees. The telly was humming quietly in the background and John saw wistfully that Total Wipeout was just starting.

"Right I'm off now then, there's some Shepherds Pie left over from last night in the fridge you can heat yourself up later." John said as he slipped his coat on. He prayed Sherlock would remember to eat some dinner; he didn't want to spend the night worrying. Sherlock looked up from his book and his eyes roamed over John; it was rather like being x rayed. He didn't offer a comment on anything so John presumed he was suitably attired for an evening spent in the pub. Leaning down John pressed a light kiss against Sherlock's lips and rubbed his fingers across the back of his neck.

"Don't set anything on fire whilst I'm out." John said as he kissed Sherlock softly again.

"That only happed once! Must you bring it up every time you leave me on my own?" Sherlock said crossly as John grinned down at him.

"All right, just don't come crying to me when you singe your eyebrows off again." John said as he picked his keys and wallet up from the kitchen table and put them in his pocket.

Sherlock merely huffed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "wasn't crying" under his breath. They had both agreed that Sherlock did indeed look rather odd without eyebrows and that losing them again should be something that was generally avoided.

"I'll see you later then. Don't know what time I'll be back seeing as I only knew I supposed to be going out an hour ago." John said as he finished tying his shoe laces.

A grunt from the sofa told him that Sherlock had clearly not taken kindly to his eyebrow comment and was now sulking behind his book. John rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself; sometimes Sherlock's behaviour was on a par with a teenage girl. On his way towards the door he lent down and ruffled the massive expanse of curls on top of Sherlock's head.

"Good bye dearest."

Undeterred at being met with another sulky silence, John planted a kiss onto the Detectives head and made his way out of the flat.

"Bye." called Sherlock literally just two seconds before John had closed the front door behind him. John smiled. Clearly Sherlock was getting better at this whole relationship malarkey then he thought. Stepping onto the curb he hailed a cab and was whisked off into the night.

Hope you all enjoyed reading this, chapter two should be up within the next few days. Any spelling/gramar errors pointed out, albeit nicely, would be greatly appreciated.

If anyone is interested the title comes from lyrics to the song Lilac Wine by the late, great Jeff Buckley. Its a very beautiful song so check it out if you can.

Peace and Love from Hokum