Only years of army training and service, followed by six months of living with Sherlock Holmes, kept Joanna Watson from grabbing her fork and throwing it at her sister, Harriet. Anything to stop the incessant stream of babble about hemlines, fall colors and the newest gadgets her new wealthy girlfriend had given her.
Joanna smiled tightly. What did she care about orange being the new black this season? She spared at thought for Sherlock who had been hunched over a beaker in the kitchen when she had left for lunch with Harry.
A large hand holding a bottle of red wine entered her field of vision. Angelo smiled gently and refilled her glass. “Can I get you anything else, Doctor? Anything for a friend of Sherlock’s.” Joanna gave him a more sincere smile, shook her head slightly and went back to listening to Harry, who hadn’t even paused in telling her story about her recent trip to Rome.
She sipped the wine and did not think about spilling some on herself to obtain an excuse to leave the table.
“Really Jo, you need to find someone. Being in love is wonderful…” Harry paused mid thought mouth open.
“I need to borrow your cell phone.” Jo tilted her head up to stare at Sherlock as he stood behind her.
“I thought you were in the middle of an experiment?” She asked even as she reached into her jacket pocket.
“Molly called me. She got in a specimen she thought I would find interesting.” He said as his fingers flew across the keypad of her phone.
Joanna turned back to Harry and noticed her leering at Sherlock. A button or two had suddenly come loose and she was leaning forward enough so that Sherlock could probably see all the way down her top to her navel.
“Hello.” Harry practically purred at Sherlock extending a manicured hand. “I’m Harriet, Joanna’s sister.”
Sherlock stared down his nose at her. “Quite.” He turned back to the Joanna and returned her phone.
“I’ll be late.” He stared down at her before sweeping out.
Jo smirked to herself before turning back to Harriet who was staring. She started to explain but was interrupted by a strong hand that wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her so she was facing Sherlock, who had swept back in. Before she could formulate a question about his reappearance, he swooped down and pressed his lips to hers.
Her arm came up and clutched at his neck as his tongue teased her lips open. She pushed her tongue against his, not willing to be passive. Her fingers combed through the curls at the back of his neck and his hand came up to gently cradle her cheek.
He released her and rested his forehead on hers before speaking. “Angelo, you should really let that bottle of ’86 breathe a little more before serving it.” He straightened up and tidied the scarf that Jo had mussed.
Jo could only stare at this man who never initiated public displays of affection but who had just thoroughly kissed her in a very public place.
He frowned at her bemusement. “I thought that was an appropriate form of farewell from a boyfriend,” a note of derision entered his voice at the term.
“Well yes.” She brought her hand to her lips.
“Good. I’ve been researching. I will see you later.” He dropped a quick peck on her forehead, smiled with smug satisfaction and swept out of the restaurant.
“Joanna Watson. What on earth is going on?” Jo turned back to Harry, goofy smile on her face.
“I have no idea.” But she couldn’t stop smiling.