Sherlock saw John again that afternoon, after the man had napped and recovered from his second night of consciousness. He looked very tired; dispute their attempts at making up the hours of sleep he had lost. His eyes were very dark, his face weary and his limbs heavy, but dispute John's look of misery a smile was able to come onto his face when he first saw Sherlock pull up outside of the house. Mary and John were sitting out on the porch, basking up sunlight in an attempt to scare the Aspiration deeper into the darkness of John's body. Sherlock got out of the car with a smile, walking up to the porch and standing on the steps for a moment.
"Hello Watsons." He exclaimed, observing the two tired parents.
"Hello Sherlock." John said back, a new found sparkle appearing in his eyes. Mary didn't extend any sort of greeting, but that was quite alright with Sherlock. If she wanted to be difficult, then so be it. Mary's bitterness made something inside of Sherlock try to justify his own feelings towards John, as if by hating his wife he could have John all to himself. This was not even the slightest bit true, but nevertheless it was a hard fact to push aside.
"Have a nice night?" Sherlock wondered. John just laughed, his toes rocking them both back and forth on the porch swing on which they sat.
"Well, I guess so." John said with a shrug. Mary just smiled doubtfully, as if she didn't agree with his final decision at all.
"Have you slept since?" Sherlock wondered, leaning against the railing of the porch and watching the both of them carefully.
"Yes, we both took much needed naps." John agreed. Sherlock nodded, not quite sure how to respond to that. Mary was glaring at him rather challengingly, as if daring him to say something that she didn't approve of.
"Nothing out of the ordinary then? Do you feel, well, all together yourself?" Sherlock asked hopefully. John nodded, but Mary's scowl just deepened at the question.
"I'm alright Sherlock, I'm alright." John assured, letting his head rest on the back of the swing and sighing heavily. Sherlock forced his eyes away from John, trying his best not to notice his closed eyes, his broad shoulders, or his exposed neck.
"How about you Mary, did you find last night to be alright?" Sherlock wondered, hoping for her skeptical report just for a distraction from her stunningly attractive husband.
"Everything was perfectly normal, although I don't know what you might've expected otherwise." Mary said with an antagonizing smile.
"It's worked so far, I expected nothing less than a perfect report." Sherlock assured with a sweet smile.
"I was just worried that John wouldn't be able to stay up all night, that's all." Sherlock added.
"And why wouldn't he?" Mary asked defensively.
"Oh I don't know, maybe you just weren't as, entertaining." Sherlock said with a shrug.
"Entertaining? Sherlock Holmes you tread carefully, remember the only reason you're still hanging around here is because I'm permitting it." Mary warned. Sherlock held up his hands defensively, and finally John opened his eyes once more, after hearing his wife's yelling he probably found it necessary to join in on the conversation.
"Alright, alright, let's not argue here." John insisted, getting to his feet and stretching out for a moment. Once again, Sherlock fascinated himself with the peeling paint on the railing instead.
"Want to come in for a cup of tea?" John wondered hopefully, looking carefully at his wife as if worried she wouldn't permit such a thing. Mary was silent, however, looking up at Sherlock with hateful eyes.
"That sounds lovely." Sherlock agreed softly, letting himself follow John into the house. Mary stayed outside, and Rosie seemed to be absent from the house, so they were alone in the sunlit kitchen once more. John filled up the kettle while Sherlock leaned against the counter, watching him work with guilty eyes.
"I should advise you not to provoke Mary like that again." John suggested, turning on the stove and setting the tea kettle on one of the burners.
"Apologies." Sherlock said simply, his fingers buttoning and unbuttoning the cuff of his jacket nervously.
"She's been very tense lately; it's worried me a little bit. She doesn't seem to like you much." John admitted obviously. Sherlock nodded; of course everyone had noticed Mary's sudden coolness.
"So it would seem." Sherlock agreed. John sighed heavily, watching Sherlock in silence while the kettle hummed.
"Are you watching me tonight?" John wondered. Sherlock just laughed uneasily, looking at John with a rather confused expression.
"You make me sound like some sort of stalker." Sherlock decided. John just laughed, shaking his head and trying to think of a way to rephrase that statement.
"Are you um...accompanying me?" John wondered, looking a little bit conflicted as if he wondered just how platonic that sounded. Sherlock just nodded, his fingers tapping against the counter as his eyes watched John's uneasiness.
"If it's alright with you I'd be happy to." He agreed. John nodded very quickly, glancing up at Sherlock once before letting his gaze drop again.
"Ya no, definitely I want you to come." He assured in a very quick voice.
"Well then I will. Would you like to stay up here or at Molly's?" Sherlock wondered.
"Oh um, well, I had a better idea." John said in a reluctant excitement. Sherlock just raised an eyebrow, wondering what on earth John could suggest as a better idea.
"Oh yes?" Sherlock asked curiously. "What might that be?"
"Well I was thinking of how people possibly entertain themselves all night, and I decided that maybe we should go down to uh, to the club." John suggested. Sherlock could help but laugh at the idea of going out to a brightly lit dance floor with a man he was so desperately attracted to. There was no possible good ending to that scenario.
"Well that's certainly a suggestion, maybe not the best idea however, considering who your choice of company is." Sherlock pointed out. John looked rather embarrassed at simply bring it up, but he was obviously trying to think of a way to defend his ideas.
"I don't think my choice in company is bad, I mean, we might even have fun." John admitted in a small voice. Sherlock let himself lean farther into the counter, bending his knees a little bit to keep himself propped up.
"Surely you must be a little bit bothered by my sexuality. Surely the idea of spending a night with me by your side must make you uncomfortable." Sherlock suggested. John's cheeks flushed very red, but there was something very pleasing about his awkwardness, there was something very satisfying.
"No I mean, you don't make me uncomfortable at all." John assured extremely quickly. Sherlock could only crack a smile, considering how obviously uncomfortable John was right now.
"Well then, Mr. Watson, if you think you're up to it then I should hardly dare to argue." Sherlock assured finally. John finally looked up at him with a smile, as if wondering about the sincerity of Sherlock's agreement.
"Wait, really?" he wondered quickly. Sherlock just nodded, shrugging passively.
"Don't be alarmed if I have a beautiful man on my arm as the night grows darker." Sherlock warned.
"No, no that's fine. I understand, you know, I'm fine with that." John assured very quickly. Sherlock's smile widened, and at that moment the tea kettle started to scream, announcing its boiling contents.
"Wonderful." Sherlock muttered, only to himself. He wondered just how this night was going to go; he wondered how on earth he was going to resist the temptations in his heart with a couple of drinks under those neon lights. Either way, however, Sherlock was sure that John had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Now just where are you off to?" Molly asked suspiciously, walking down the stairs to find Sherlock rearranging his trench coat in the doorway mirror.

"Me?" Sherlock wondered innocently, fluffing up his curls in the front just a tad.
"No, the other idiot standing in my doorway." Molly snapped, descending the stairs and looking at Sherlock in confusion.
"I'm going to pick up John." Sherlock said simply.
"You're staying with him then?" Molly wondered. Sherlock nodded, flattening out his jacket and frowning at his reflection in the mirror.
"Why are you making a big fuss about your appearance if you're only going to get John?" Molly wondered, an almost suspicious tone to her voice.
"He's taking me out, we're going to a club." Sherlock shrugged, trying to make that sound as normal as possible. Molly just laughed a little bit, as if wondering if Sherlock was actually serious.
"A club? You and John? That sounds destructive, to say the least." Molly decided.
"His idea I assure you." Sherlock muttered carelessly. Molly nodded, leaning against the wall and watching Sherlock suspiciously, as if expecting him to do something a bit more interesting than just looking in the mirror.
"You know what I'm going to say." Molly decided.
"Yes, so you need not say it." Sherlock agreed, not really wanting to hear the whole 'he's married' talk again.
"Well I think I must." Molly muttered. Sherlock sighed heavily, turning to face Molly instead of the mirror, just to make sure she understood the severity of this conversation.
"Molly, I'm a grown man, alright? I know when someone is off limits; I know when I need to back off." Sherlock assured.
"Then why do you keep fixing your hair?" Molly wondered. Sherlock stopped his hand just as he was about to pat down his curls in the back and played it off as though he were just itching his forehead.
"I'm not fixing my hair." Sherlock lied.
"Don't you dare do anything to John, don't even smile at him, don't even look at him!" Molly insisted.
"Oh that should be a pleasant night then." Sherlock scoffed. Molly sighed heavily, shaking her head as though she were dealing with a child.
"Sherlock, I just mean, don't look at him in that way." Molly clarified.
"What way? I don't look at anyone in a way." Sherlock lied, pulling his coat tighter around himself as though it were cold in Molly's very room temperature apartment.
"Yes you do, it's the, I'm beautiful and I know it and I know you know it too look." Molly snapped.
"I have a look like that?" Sherlock wondered, genuinely confused as to what Molly was trying to say.
"Yes, and I've seen you look at John that way many times." Molly muttered, fiddling with a loose thread on the end of her sweater uneasily. Sherlock just shook his head, dropping his gaze and tying his scarf securely around his neck.
"Molly you don't have to worry about me, or about John. We're both grown adults, we know right from wrong. Besides, he's straight, and married." Sherlock added.
"Yes well, you seem to have a way with anyone." Molly admitted.
"Molly it's not my fault I'm beautiful." Sherlock said with a dramatic sigh, wiping the end of his scarf over his shoulder and winking at Molly before grabbing his car keys and dashing out the door.
"Be good Sherlock, you better be good!" Molly called after him, and Sherlock just waved, getting into his car and driving down the street before Molly could nag him anymore. When Sherlock pulled up outside the Watson house he was surprised to see John sitting on the porch, looking rather annoyed. He was sitting on the porch swing with his arms crossed, not even bothering to rock himself back and forth as he watched Sherlock's car pull up out front. As soon as Sherlock put the car into park John was already getting into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut miserably and buckling his seatbelt without a word.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock wondered, watching his companion nervously.
"Just drive." John commanded, crossing his arms once more.
"Whatever you say." Sherlock agreed, too nervous to ask for an explanation right now. So he just started off down the road towards town, noticing the sun start to sink below the horizon. John was quiet in the seat next to him, his fingers were tapping against his arms and there was a scowl on his face, but the farther away they got from the house the more John seemed to relax. It was almost as if what was troubling him was left behind.
"Where exactly am I going?" Sherlock wondered, looking through the row of shops and restaurants that all appeared to be dark.
"Third Street, on the corner." John said simply, the longest sentence he's said since he sat down. Sherlock nodded, following John's instructions until he pulled up next to the black doors of the nightclub. He really hoped that gay was okay in there, because if he had to pretend to dance with a woman then he would probably throw up. They found a parking spot relatively close and got out of the car, John slamming his car door rather agressivley and making his way up the sidewalk without waiting.
"John, hey, are you alright?" Sherlock asked, jogging up so that he could walk next to John. John sighed heavily, shaking his head and looking extremely irritated.
"It's Mary; she was being unnecessarily difficult about tonight." John snapped.
"What do you mean by that?" Sherlock wondered as they made their way up the sidewalk towards the sound of muffled music.
"She wanted to come with me; she didn't think it would be safe if I went alone with you." John admitted heavily. Sherlock frowned nervously, knowing that now everyone was on to him.
"You're fine, you know that I'm not going..."
"I know Sherlock, I know!" John exclaimed, throwing his arms up in annoyance. "You're not the problem."
"Is she the problem?" Sherlock wondered carefully. John just sighed, shaking his head and looking very conflicted at the moment. He didn't respond, he just kept walking. They walked into the club very awkwardly; knowing that what lay behind those doors was a whole new world. The lights were dim, save for the multicolored lights of the dance floor, and the music was so irritably loud that it was nearly impossible to hear each other speak. There was a long bar off to the side and a couple of booths in the far corner, but the majority of the entire place was a large dance floor with people of all types scattered carelessly about.
"It's been a while since I've come in here." John admitted loudly, walking over to the bar before anything. Sherlock nodded, feeling exactly the same. He didn't remember this club from his childhood, but he was sure that it had been here. Nevertheless, it's been a while since he's been anywhere near this place in a couple of years. They both sat on bar stools next to very odd, pasty looking strangers. Sherlock was seated uncomfortably between a moody John and a woman who was basically clinging to the bar, trying her best not to fall off her stool.
"Just try to lighten up, try to have fun." Sherlock suggested, ordering them both small shots of whatever kind of alcohol the bartender decided to feed to them.
"It'll alright Sherlock; you don't have to fuss over me." John assured.
"I'm not fussing." Sherlock defended, but as he said it he made a point to fix John's ruffled collar in a very motherly way. John just laughed, probably not intending on laughing, but laughing all the same.
"Come on, quit it." John snapped, shooing Sherlock's arm away with a little laugh. The bartender placed small little shot glasses in front of them, and Sherlock thanked him with a smile.
"Oh honey, are you going to...are you going to finish that?" the woman next to him asked, falling onto Sherlock's shoulder in an attempt to grab at his shot glass.
"Ew, um...yes, I was intending to." Sherlock agreed, pushing her away in disgust. Her makeup was caking on her face, her bleach blonde hair looking almost white in this horrible lighting.
"Come on Clarissa, get off the poor man." The bartender insisted. "Why don't I give you a nice tonic water and you head on home?"
"Nice place, huh?" John muttered with a laugh, picking up his shot glass a bit apprehensively.
"Don't judge the club by its clientele." Sherlock suggested, picking his own glass up as well.
"Well, cheers." John decided with a shrug, clinking their glasses together and downing his in one sip. Sherlock followed suit, and as soon as the alcohol burned down his throat he was starting to feel considerably better. Being sober was no fun. They had a couple of more drinks together before they were starting to feel considerably lighter, more careless. All of the warnings Sherlock had heard were simply whisked out of his mind, and he was already starting to look at John with a new angle. John, on the other hand, was also becoming better. With ever drink his shoulders relaxed and his smile became more and more permanent, until finally he was swaying to the music and laughing to himself.

"Wonderful thing, alcohol." Sherlock decided, playing with his little empty shot glass while he waited for another.
"Certainly." John agreed with a large smile, leaning considerably closer to Sherlock on his stool. Sherlock just watched him curiously, not really in the mood to do anything to stop the gap between them from closing. John looked out towards the dance floor longingly, but he stayed in his stool for now. They had one last drink before finally Sherlock felt fulfilled, counting out the money he owed and placing it on the counter.
"Let's go dance." John suggested. Sherlock raised his eyebrow curiously, probably giving John the look Molly had warned him against before he left. But that felt like so long ago, and frankly he didn't care what Molly thought. Whatever happened in this darkness stayed here. John grabbed Sherlock's hand excitedly, interlocking their fingers and dragging him from the bar to the dance floor, closer and closer to the obnoxiously loud music.
"Someone's happy now." Sherlock observed as John finally let go of Sherlock's hand, spinning around to the music with an intoxicated smile on his face.

"Well of course I'm happy, Sherlock I feel free! Da*n this demon inside of me, what can it do to stop me?" John wondered. Sherlock just laughed, feeling a little bit awkward as he noticed the golden ring sparkling on John's finger. It was a painful reminder of what never could be.