Chapter Twenty-One

I was feeling especially playful one day, and before I knew it, I had asked Sherlock on another date.

Of course he accepted, and I said I wanted to go to cinema.  When he asked what film, I hesitated.  I hadn't thought about that far.

"Something you like?" Sherlock asked me.  "James Bond?"

"No," I said.  "You hate James Bond."

Sherlock put his hand on my shoulder.  "You love James Bond.  I want to go to a James Bond movie."

I sighed.  "But... Well-" but Sherlock was already on me, kissing my neck. 

"James Bond," he breathed.  I wasn't going to win, anyway.  We went to James Bond: Spectre.

I felt the cold night air blow on me as I looked up to see the sign with the names of films playing that night in one of those things where you have to out in every individual letter.  I moved my eyes along the letters until I saw the word:

S P E C T R E

Looked at Sherlock, who was smiling intently.  I shook my head, and walked in with him. This could do very good, or very bad.

I treated us to buttered popcorn and a large Cola, and we made our way to the theatre #6, the one playing Spectre.  As I walked up the steps and stopped at a middle row, Sherlock grabbed my arm.

"Is this a two-hour film?" he asked.

I looked at him in the dark.  "Yes."

I could tell Sherlock wanted to sigh, he didn't.  Instead, he sat down next to me in the folding cinema chair.  I put our drink between us in the cup holder.

When the previews came on, I shushed Sherlock, who was talking nonstop about things I still can't remember to this day.  The big screen expanded, like it does at the previews, and Sherlock thought it was amazing and clever to have a "big" screen, and then make it bigger.

Sherlock was muttering all the way through the previews, but as soon as the movie started, he was silent.  The film itself was great, and Sherlock's behaviour was the best I've seen.

He was very happy when we got home, and stayed happy all night long.  Until the smash.