Sherlock and John stepped out of the cab in front of a restaurant that John couldn't even begin to try to pronounce. John had never been to this particular establishment but it looked expensive and classy. After walking through the door Sherlock completely disregarded the hostess positioned at the front of the restaurant and continued to the back of the restaurant where an elderly man was exiting the kitchen area.

"Sherlock Holmes!" The man sounded overly excited to be seeing the detective, "How can I help you today?" The man glanced to the left of Sherlock and made eye contact with John, "And who is this?"

"This is Dr. John Watson, he's a colleague of mine," the elderly man raised an eyebrow but Sherlock paid no mind. "We'll be needing my normal table and your finest bottle of French wine."

"Of course, Sir. And would you like me to place an order for your usual?"

"Two, John has never been here so make the occasion memorable."

Sherlock spun around on his heels toward a curtained off area of the diner where two younger bus boys had just finished setting up a table with an intricate candle display at the center. John couldn't help but wonder who Sherlock was to be able to be able to set up such a thing. John removed his jacket and took a seat at the table and Sherlock did the same.

After a moment of silence in which Sherlock barely moved an inch from what John had already recognized as his 'signature thinking pose' Sherlock looked up.

"Good shot. I really am quite impressed. Your military background is definitely apparent."

"What?" John tried to play innocent, "I have no idea what you are-" Sherlock raised an amused eyebrow, "How did you know?"

Sherlock scoffed, "No man without a military background could have achieved that kind of shot. I almost started rattling off your exact description to Lestrade before it struck me." A waitress had walked up to the table and set down the wine that Sherlock had ordered, he took the bottle from her and thanked her before pouring a glass of wine for each of them. "Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Romanee-Conti Grand Cru," Sherlock said in a perfect french accent.

"How do you get French wine from a Chinese restaurant?" John was trying to ignore how mystified he was by the man's accent but it was difficult, especially in the dim light of candles where his cheekbones were highlighted oh-so-perfectly. This man was so- John shook himself out of the thought, he was here to find his William.

Sherlock smirked, "The owner here is a former client of mine and he always keeps some on hand. It's amazing the kind of favors people believe they owe."

John half-smiled, he knew that if this man helped him to find his soulmate he would surely feel that he owed him the whole world.

A couple of weeks later John found himself sharing a room in an inn with Sherlock somewhere in Sussex.

"What exactly are we doing here again?" John asked for probably the 3rd time in 20 minutes, annoying Sherlock to the extreme.

"It's a case John. Obviously." Sherlock snipped, irritated that he had to go just far enough out of London on a several day case that he would need to stay in an inn. Sherlock was actually going to reject the case when his brother had suddenly decided to take an interest and yell at him until he took the case.

"But why was it necessary for me to come along?"

Sherlock gave him a puzzled look and ignored the strange question. "Our client, Richard, is looking for his soulmate, William who is-"

"W-William"? John cut him off slightly stunned.

"Yes, his name is William. Why do you look so surprised?"

John was caught in thought. What are the chances that they would be on a case to find a man named William? Could this be his chance to find his William?

"Oh I ensure you this is not your William I have already looked this man up, we simply have to 'connect the cables' per say."

"Oh…" John said a little disappointed as he started to unpack his bags.

Sherlock watched him carefully trying to study the look on his face. He wanted to be absolutely sure. "Because of the situation we will have to make some adjustments to our day to day lifestyle."

The wrinkles around John's eyes got deeper as he scrunched up his face in displeasure. "And why should I change anything about what i do day to day just because they want to be together?"

"Well, I simply don't want to cause conflict because you both have the same name on your wrist. And also, one is very skeptical."

John was starting to get angry now. "Then why did I even come? What am I supposed to do, hide my wrist"?

"No, we're going to pretend that I'm your William."

"Well that just sounds like a brilliant idea! I'll just…." John continued throwing clothes around and slamming things. "Wait… what?" He stopped and looked up at Sherlock, his cheeks bright red. "T...that wouldn't work, they know you're name isn't William…."

"I could very easily use an alias or even a middle name." Sherlock said hoping that John wouldn't ask. If he did, Sherlock wasn't sure that he would be able to lie to him about it.

John simply shrugged it off figuring that if that were truly the case, Sherlock would have said something to him by now, after all they are sharing a flat. Maybe "Sherlock" was kind of a strange name, but Sherlock would have told him if his name was not truly Sherlock Holmes. Wouldn't he?

"Sherlock I am not going to do this!" The pair was standing outside of their client's house having a rather loud argument for being in the midst of the city.

"John, we must be convincing. If we make one move out of line it could all easily fall apart." Sherlock was honestly getting frustrated at this point. If he wouldn't give in and do this he would risk losing this case.

"Sherlock Holmes, I'm not going to hold your hand!" John shouted angrily, earning them some well deserved stares from people walking by.

"John, please. I'm trying to help these people. I need you to cooperate if this is going to work the way that if is supposed to." Sherlock was trying to be reasonable but was quite sure that John would probably still say no.

John bit his cheek. "I guess if it's for the case." He said snatching at Sherlock's hand but refusing to intertwine their fingers.

Sherlock was surprised that John had given in but decided to push is luck. "John, we aren't little girls playing house." And with a sigh he twisted their fingers together and practically pulled them towards the front door.

John reached for the doorbell, trying to ignore the tingling in his hand. He knew he was just being illogical.

A tall man with flaming red hair and round cheeks answered the door. "Oh, you must be Mr. Holmes! And your partner, John, right? Come in, come in."

"We would love to, however we are meeting Will at (Insert restaurant name here) in 10 minutes."

" Oh, so soon? Just give me just a second!" He turns and leaves the door cracked showing the open plan of the small cottage home that for some reason, made john feel more uneasy all together.

Molly gripped the napkin from dinner in her hand and scurried up the stairs to her room and threw herself onto the bed with a smile on her face. She had never felt this giddy in her entire life, and especially not about another woman. She looked down again at the napkin in her hand, It had a red lipstick stain on the right side and written next to it, it said, "16th. Be there at 8. Xoxo." Molly smiled and squealed like a 12 year old girl, rolling slightly side to side happily. She kicked off her skirt and buried her face into the pillow. For the first time in 15 years, Molly Hooper slept soundly and without nightmares about the events of that day that had disrupted it all.

Tonight was different for Irene. Had it been any other night she would have had someone in her bed, tied up probably. She didn't like to waste time taking things slow when she would only see the person a maximum of 3 times. But there was something different about Molly Hooper, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It made her a bit uneasy but excited all the same. The 16th couldn't seem to get here fast enough. She looked down at her arm and traced her fingers over the name of the girl she had finally had the chance to sit down to dinner with. That night she slept with her fingers wrapped around Molly's name.