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Once upon a time (I believe it may have been later last Tuesday) John had followed Sherlock to a drug den and rescued him with true love's kiss. As it transpired, this rescue was orchestrated by fairy godmother, Mrs. Hudson and archenemy, Mycroft who both had meddled in their own particular way to orchestrate said locking of lips.
Anxious to return to Baker Street to investigate just how size proportional the rest of Sherlock was to his feet, John ushered Sherlock out of the filthy drug den to a vivid orange four door Aston Martin parked at the kerb whilst still holding tight to one of Sherlock's shoes.
"John my shoe if you please, I do not wish to ruin my sock."
"Nope, I have plans for this brogue." John caressed the shoe which definitely got Sherlock's attention.
To his consternation, Sherlock found the chauffeur for their bright neon limousine was none other than Mycroft. "What are you doing here and in this? Not exactly your style."
"You can thank Mrs. Hudson as she thought it best to retrieve the two of you before you, in her words 'got up to mischief'. As to this vehicle, she said it was the closest she could come to a pumpkin carriage without arousing undue attention. Bit gaudy for my tastes, but there you have it." Turning to John he nodded in acknowledgment, "From the state of my brother's clothes I deduce your mission was successful."
"Too right it was and quite revealing I have to tell you."
Making a face as if he was sucking a lemon, Mycroft warned, "No you REALLY don't. In point of fact I strongly suggest you refrain from any more details that could possibly cause me to crash the car."
The rest of the journey passed in silence with the backseat companions having energetic eye sex. Mycroft only looked in the rear view mirror once, a mistake he did NOT repeat.
They pulled up in front of 221B in record time. "Aren't you going to open the car door for us brother mine?"
"I advise you to drop the subject, forget this ever happened and tell Mrs. Hudson that she owes me TWO flicks of her magic wand for the indignation I've endured. Now get out of this bloody squashmobile so I can skulk away with at least a modicum of my dignity still intact."
Sherlock and John tumbled in the door bent over with laughter. "Never thought I'd see the day when your brother actually left half his tire tread on the street."
"He did depart rather quickly, did you see those skid marks? Impressive. And speaking of impressive, I think I promised you an opportunity to investigate my person."
"Indeed you did, but I just need a brief word with Hudders. Up you go and DON'T change a thing." He punctuated this by waving the single shoe he still clutched in his hand.
Looking far more like a housekeeper than fairy godmother, Martha gave him a knowing glance and smiled. "Well done you. Are you just stopping by to chat or do you want something, dear?"
"I have a favour to ask and it involves this shoe and...other things."
He whispered his plan in her ear. Then he climbed the seventeen stairs with the sound of Martha's gleeful cackling following behind with a cheery "Toodle Pip."
John found it utterly charming that his usually over confident flatmate seemed shy and a tad nervous as he sat perched on the edge of his chair worrying at his shoeless foot. "You see I told you, a perfectly good sock ruined."
The doctor couldn't resist a grin. "Too bad. Nothing for it then, we'll just have to frame the other one as a memory of what happened today."
"I quite enjoyed the kiss but I had hoped there would be more."
"Oh there will be, no worries, but first I want to correct my carelessness in allowing you to go around with only one shoe. Stand up and come here."
Moving in a flash, Sherlock was immediately peeved that John apparently intended to put his shoe back on. "Why are you doing that? I thought the objective of this exercise was to remove clothing not replace it."
"Don't get stroppy. Can't have you casting a pall over the magic spell."
"What magic...?"
Before Sherlock could finish, John slipped the black brogue in place. There was a shower of fairy dust and suddenly Sherlock found himself completely nude save for a pair of blood red patent leather stilettos on his feet.
Stunned, he barely avoided staggering on the high heels and looked down at John who was knelt in front of him. "What's going on? What's happening?"
"Getting ready to give you your first happy ending if all goes to plan."
"Plan", Sherlock squeaked, "what plan?"
With a look of devilment in his eyes, John leaned forward and licked a broad stripe up the full length of Sherlock's frankly impressive cock. "Well I'm a doctor, you're my patient, my very naked patient, so I thought we'd play a game."
So saying he began peppering kisses down both Sherlock's legs from hips to ankles then bent low to lap at the shiny leather until it gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight streaming into the flat. Sherlock moaned, shivered and gasped, "A game?"
"Um hum, we're going to play Podiatrist."
Sherlock had no idea he had a foot fetish, neither did John for that matter, but the game was definitely afoot and as the moon rose over London that evening they both had a happy ending. And for all we know it's still going on NOW.