Hey! This is the last scene of 'Amy's Choice', but with Sherlock and John instead of Amy and Rory. Johnlock, obviously.
This is when they're back in the TARDIS, after John asks the Doctor if he really believed all those things the Dream Lord said.

Category: Doctor Who / BBC Sherlock
Characters: Doctor, Sherlock, John
Pairings: Sherlock/John
Rating: K+ because I'm paranoid and so is Sherlock
Disclaimer: In a parallel universe I own all the characters and logo's ect. In another parallel universe this story actually happened. In another universe, Steven Fry is Pope. Unfortunately, that is not this universe. In this universe, I own pretty much nothing. Not even the plot really.

"Sherlock is about to ask a very important question, and I think it's very important that you answer it, seeing as it'll probably change his life." The Doctor said, putting his hands on John's shoulders and guiding him to Sherlock.

"How do you do that?" Sherlock asked in wonder and annoyance.

"Never mind that right now, just ask the question!" The Doctor said.

"Fiiine. John, we exited the last dream by exploding the TARDIS, but I don't recollect what happened in the other dream."

"I… um… I drove a caravan into a house." John said, with a bit of a laugh that didn't sound amused.

"You drove a caravan… I don't remember that. What happened to me?" Sherlock asked, for once genuinely confused. He remembered the house, and then the Doctor bursting in, and then… he couldn't really remember much after that. There was definitely no caravan involved. Had John left him at last?

"Oh… yeah…" John said quietly, that hurt and sad look in his eye that Sherlock hated so much. He didn't hate it in the average 'You're an idiot' way, as was the case with most people, but the expression just made Sherlock's chest constrict. It hurt Sherlock to see him so (and he was not prepared to discuss the meanings of such things, for fear of the unknown). In short, John looked like he had just shot a puppy.

"What happened? Was it something I did?" Sherlock asked. He would truly despise it if he had been the cause of such pain. Sherlock was known for accidentally saying hurtful things, but this was simply unreasonable. He wasn't really John's friend, because friends looked after each other, and it was obvious Sherlock didn't do that, but he would hate to cause such pain to the only person who had really accepted him.

"You… you were…" John said quietly, his voice breaking at the end, and the most heart-breaking sound coming out of his mouth. John looked away in sadness, but Sherlock could see the pain that he had caused. Why did John stick with someone who was so obviously unaware of other people's emotions and wellbeing?

"What did I do? Did I insult you?" Sherlock asked in a worried voice.

"You… you died, Sherlock. Mrs Higgins got you." John said quietly, so quietly that Sherlock had to strain to hear what was being said.

"Oh… oh okay. That was… not very smart." Sherlock said distractedly. He had been killed… by a pensioner. Andersons own mother, no less. How on earth had he let that happen? That really was awful, not to mention embarrassing. But John looked so… sad. Surely he would not really be so sad over his death? It's not like Sherlock was ever nice to John, all he ever did was order him around and insult him and belittle him. Sherlock couldn't imagine a worst person to live with than himself, and he was so surprised that John was actually upset by his death. More than that, John was upset about his apparent/fake/dream death. Maybe John really did like him. Maybe he really did care for him. Maybe… no. He was not going there. There was something suspicious about all this…

"But… why did you crash the caravan? How could you have possibly known it was a dream? There was nothing there that I could find that indicated it was a dream, so how did you know you wouldn't just… die?" Sherlock asked.

"I… I didn't." John said.

"What?" Sherlock demanded.

"I didn't know if it was the dream world or not."

"John! What on earth were you thinking!? You could have died! That is the single most irresponsible thing you have ever done! What if you had died, John!? What then!? What on earth could have driven you to do the single most stupid, irresponsible, dangerous, rash, inconsiderate, reckless, impetuous thing that you have ever done!? You're lucky that you're even still alive!" Sherlock shouted, gesturing with his hands to highlight his words. He was positively fuming, if such a thing were possible. What on earth could cause John to be so hot-headed, so impulsive? What reason could he have to take on such actions? Sherlock simply didn't know. Did John even know how precious his life was? Did he not know how many people relied on his existence like a life-line? He knew it wasn't just him; there were plenty of other people who would be more than devastated if John died. Why had he done such a thing?

John just looked at his feet, and then over Sherlock's shoulder, with a look in his eyes. He looked so… sorrowful, so utterly stricken with grief that Sherlock could barely stop himself from hugging him. No, he was not the hugging type, and he wasn't going to start anytime soon. What John had done was simply unacceptable.

"John, I don't think you understand the severity of the situation. You could have died! What on earth could have convinced you that killing yourself was a… what?" Sherlock asked, looking over his shoulder. John had been looking over his shoulder the whole time, and giving something (the Doctor, process of elimination) strange faces. He had been frowning at the Doctor, and then looking fearful and full of dread. Sherlock looked over his shoulder, asking his question, because he was trying to talk here and the Doctor obviously didn't understand and-

"Am I interrupting something? Because I'm trying to work out why John-"

Sherlock asked, but before he could finish his question John put two hands on either side of Sherlock's face, cupping his cheeks. He turned Sherlock head until he was facing John, and pulled Sherlock down into a kiss. Sherlock froze, and John withdrew diffidently.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's fine. It's more than fine." Sherlock said with a straight face. John looked at him in confusion before Sherlock broke into a grin and hopped away, smiling gleefully.

"Yes! I knew it, I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it! Oh my god, this is brilliant!" Sherlock announced, frolicking. "A mystery, strange dream stuff, and now a kiss! It's Christmas!" The two other occupants of the TARDIS stared at him strangely. Sherlock looked at them, broken out of his little world of happiness.

"I'm so sorry John, but I've been in love with you for a very long time and I'm just so happy that I don't have to pretend anymore and no, I have never done this before so I'm not entirely sure what's supposed to happen but I'm sure I'll learn." Sherlock said quickly, his words tripping over each other in his haste. John breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's okay, I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing either."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." John said, standing on his toes and kissing Sherlock gently, before breaking away again.

The Doctor came over to them from the other side of the console. "Are you done here, or should I just pop down to the swimming pool for a few lengths?"

"Go do some swimming, Doctor. Me and John have some things to discuss." Sherlock said, looking into John's eyes as he did so, nervously slipping his hand into John's.

"Oh, okay. You… go do that." The Doctor said awkwardly, rushing off as soon as he had finished talking.