John and Sherlock were in a bookstore. Sherlock had stepped away for a few minutes to check some things, leaving John to pretend to peruse the children’s literature section. “Are you looking for anything in particular?” The man was taller than John and slender. He smiled warmly. “For your kids?”
“Oh no, I’m not married,” said John. “I, uh, have….a….niece,” he lied badly.
The man smiled at him.
John blinked. “Hold on, are you flirting with me?”
The man took a step closer. “Is that problem?”
John’s hand formed a fist. “I’m not gay.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. “You mean you and that other fellow…?”
“No,” said John shortly, turning and stalking away.
He caught Sherlock coming out of the back. “Did you find what you’re looking for?” he hissed.
“Yes.” He patted his coat, then took another look at his doctor.
“Don’t say anything, let’s just go.”
Sherlock gave the smallest of smiles and led the way out. John had the distinct feeling he knew exactly what had just happened. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed the detective out.