Chapter 1

The situation was intolerable. As a Holmes, intellect was to be prized above all else. Self control. Discipline. Sherlock had certainly never had any issue in these areas. Before. Now his life had to be bisected into Before and After.

Before! Ah, those were the days! Cool intellect, lightning fast deductions, always deducing and the rush of pleasure in finding out he was right, regardless of the impact on other's feelings. Donovan and Anderson were his favorite guinea pigs in that area, although they were hardly a challenge for someone like him.

Before, nothing was muddied up with feelings, fears of consequences, worries over anyone else's approval.

Now, however, on the After side of the line, nothing was so simple. After was, of course, After falling for John Watson.

Initially, meeting John hadn't been particularly shattering. He was nice, in a bland sort of way. As an army doctor, he had to be reasonably intelligent. Having a doctor on site could be quite handy for dealing with the scrapes he occasionally got himself into. He was likely to accept the offer of a flatshare as he obviously had quite limited means. It was also unlikely that he would make many demands, being so financially precarious.

Even with these probabilities in mind, Sherlock was somewhat surprised when John actually showed up to see the flat after being deduced so thoroughly in front of his friend. He could tell from John's reaction, that Mike really hadn't warned him about the type of person he was going to meet. He was further pleased when John didn't even blink about his help with Mr. Hudson's demise. It had taken only the slightest nudge to get the doctor to accompany him to the crime scene.

Lauriston Gardens had been a revelation. Where the Yarders and even Lestrade would balk at his deductions, John merely accepted that Sherlock was right, and praised. That Mycroft had been unable to dissuade him, further spoke in his favor. Was there a downside to this man at all?

Ah yes, the downside. There John was, at Angelo's, asking if Sherlock was available. That would never do. The man needed to understand that nothing could be permitted to distract him from the Work. Sherlock turned him down politely, but firmly.

And therein lie the problem.

Somewhere in the hazy time between Before and After, John had become Important. Not just important, Essential. A distraction, and yet not. His absence was, if possible, more distracting than his presence.

At the pool, for the first time Sherlock was truly afraid that he might lose John. Yes, the Chinese gangsters had been dangerous, but the crossbow had been pointed at Sarah, not John. After the pool, Sherlock had been forced to acknowledge John's importance, to even allow that he cared for John.

When he planned the Fall, he knew John would be upset. His own tears during their rooftop phone call had surprised him. Amazingly, it hurt him to know that he would be hurting John. It was a wonder he had actually been able to make himself step off the rooftop. Only knowing the true danger John was in gave him the courage to do it.

Hearing John's broken voice, feeling his hands clutching at him, knowing his despair; it was a minor miracle that Sherlock didn't sit up and embrace his friend. Soothe him. Kiss away his fears.

Because that was the truth. Somewhere along the line, Sherlock had fallen in love with John Watson. Only then, when it was far too late, did Sherlock finally accept it.

For the two years he was away, he learned repeatedly how much he had taken John for granted. He couldn't have a cup of tea without thinking of warm smiles and soft jumpers. Better to stop drinking tea than torture himself like that. Whenever he met anyone named John (a disgustingly common name) he could feel his pulse jump, until his traitorous feelings could be convinced that it wasn't his John. So he stopped learning anyone's name. He learned the hard way that no one had his back anymore, at least no one he could trust, so he nearly developed a spasm in his neck from twisting suddenly to see if he was being followed.

It never should have taken so long. He had thought three months, six at the most. These two years had taught him something important. Caring was an advantage. If not for the all consuming need to keep John safe, to return to him, he'd have given up many times over.

When he was finally on his way back to London, he had his first cup of tea in nearly two years.

The events following his return were anticlimactic to say the least. John had moved on. Sherlock wasn't angry with him for doing so. How could he have expected him to wait? It had been easy for Sherlock to do so; he knew John was alive and no one else had ever appealed to him. Simple. John however, had no idea that Sherlock was alive or cared for him in a romantic manner.

If the only way he could have a relationship with John was to remain friends with him, then that would have to do. He would never let John doubt his importance again.

And then everything unfolded with Mary. John forgiving her at Christmas had been hard for Sherlock to accept, but she was his wife, and she was carrying his child. And then John surprised him, yet again.

While Mary was in recovery after her c-section, John had arranged for a paternity test. When the results came back, the baby wasn't his. He told Sherlock later, that the date for the conception hadn't worked out and he had been suspicious once he had had time to think about it.

John had shown up at 221B with two suitcases and the announcement that no divorce was necessary because Mary had married him under an assumed name.

Just like that. John was back at the flat.

Now what?

Sherlock had turned John down quite firmly years ago. He had seen no sign since that John had any interest whatsoever in men. He could not risk John being upset if his male flatmate made unwanted advances towards him. There had been the stag night, but John had been quite intoxicated at the time. In that state he may have shown an attraction to anyone, Anderson even.

There was also the issue that John was just coming out of a failed marriage to an assassin. Not the greatest timing for his previously uninterested flatmate to start hitting on him. How could he find out if John could ever be interested in him? Easy answer. He couldn't. Unless John made the first move...and that would never happen. Or could it?

A plan began to form in Sherlock's mind.

~0~0~0~0~0~

John woke from the first restful night's sleep he'd had in ages. Waking up in his room at Baker Street, with no thought of ever having to leave again hanging over his head, was glorious.

He had stayed here for awhile when Sherlock was recovering after his collapse, but he had known he still had to deal with his wife. Whether she had meant to kill him or not, shooting Sherlock was unforgivable. People died from less grievous wounds all the time. She had seen how badly he was affected by Sherlock's 'death'. That she would have subjected him to that all over again, when John had just gotten him back, no, that was beyond forgiving.

But she was carrying his child. He could easily see this Mary using his child as a pawn. Nothing remained but for him to play nice until a paternity test could be done without raising her suspicions.

When it came back that the baby wasn't his, John felt an enormous weight lift off of his shoulders. Mary was no longer his concern. No matter how determined she was to keep him, she had nothing with which to hold him anymore. Her cover was blown and any action she could possibly take against either him or Sherlock would bring the full might of the British Government down upon her. It was done. Over.

John stretched lazily and contemplated getting out of bed. There was nothing that could make this anymore perfect. Well, accept...but there was no point in wishing for the impossible. There was no way that Sherlock could possibly return his feelings, he just didn't do sentiment.

Throughout their association before Sherlock's 'death', John had known that Sherlock was his best friend. Even best friend really didn't cover it. It was more than that. Sherlock had saved his life the day they met. That morning, before going for a walk in the park, John had stared at the drawer containing his gun. When he had opened the drawer to get his laptop out, his eyes had fixed on the dark metal gleaming up at him.

That fact that he had nothing whatsoever to write in his blog just brought home to him that he was really nothing more than a waste of oxygen. If he hadn't run into Mike, hadn't met Sherlock that day, there was no doubt in John's mind that he would have been dead by the end of the week. If it had even taken that long.

There really wasn't a word to describe someone who saved your life simply by giving it meaning again. At the wedding, Sherlock had said that John had saved his life so many times and in so many ways, but John wondered if Sherlock knew that the reverse was true as well. Sherlock had cured his limp, depression, and boredom all in one fell swoop. Sherlock wasn't his best friend, he was a bloody miracle.

Seeing Sherlock fall had broken him. The days and weeks after were all a blur. It was only a few months later that he realized he was grieving for much more than the loss of a friend. He realized that he would have given literally anything to have Sherlock back. To hold him and tell him that he believed in him. To hold him and never let him go again.

John had a hard time pinpointing exactly when his feelings for Sherlock had changed. The case with Irene Adler had nearly driven him 'round the twist, but he wasn't sure he was jealous at that point. He had been worried for Sherlock, especially over his reaction to her 'death'. It was probably during the Baskerville case, when Sherlock had said that he didn't have 'friends'. The pain that lanced through him at that moment had been way too intense to just be anger over Sherlock being a drama queen. Hell, once he had apologized the next day, John had hardly even gotten irked over Sherlock admitting that he had tried to drug him. If that wasn't love, what was?

After that, so much happened so quickly. And the timing when the bugger came back! Talk about priceless! Popping up while he was trying to propose to Mary. They'd only been going together for about six months, if he'd had any clue….Well, he'd have spared himself the agony of the last two years at least.

Sherlock was back. John was back at Baker Street and he certainly wasn't going to let go of the relationship he had with Sherlock now. Sherlock wasn't interested in relationships, but John vowed he was never going to let his friend down again.