The skies over London were grey and foreboding, whirling with dark clouds that were threatening to rain on the people bustling on the streets below like ants hurrying back to their nests before the drops began to fall. The skies matched the mood of one Sherlock Holmes, stood at the window of his flat, looking down at the street with his pale not quite green, not quite blue eyes as if expecting someone. Which he was.

Sherlock let the key on its thin chain constructed of dozens of little balls connected with thin metal in his left hand hang loosely from his fingers, the key feeling warm underneath his fingers as it always did. Looking down at his phone he sighed a little bit and slid it away, just checking the time as the front door slammed behind him.

Plastering a smile over his face, one that looked stiff and most definitely forced, he turned out to face the slightly bare looking room. A tall man in a large grey Air Force greatcoat was striding down the hallway with purpose.

"Hello, Jack." Sherlock breathed softly, a tighter smile twitching at his lips.

Striding into the lounge, Captain Jack Harkness gave one of his patented roguish winks, his bright and toothy smile plastered on his face as he approached the terse looking consulting detective stood in profile in the window of the flat.

"Sherlock, hey there." he grinned, taking in the sight of the lonely figure reminding him of another.

The smile on Sherlock's face brightened just an increment, not enough to dispel the air of boredom and guardedness around him, but enough to give Jack a sense of friendship. Clasping his hands behind his back, Sherlock stepped forward, not really making eye contact with the charming man before him. Wasn't quite ready for that just yet.

"I was a little shocked when you rang me. I take it you're here for my TARDIS key?" he asked softly, the key still clasped tightly in his hand.

Nodding Jack smiled at him. Up to his old tricks as always, deducing what Jack was here for within a few minutes of him being at Baker Street. The man was an enigma alright and Jack was drawn to men who were enigmas, just like the Doctor. In fact Jack was sure that Sherlock would have made a very fine Time Lord. Moving forward himself, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"If its not too much trouble," Jack smiled his eyes on Sherlock's even though the detective isn't looking at him, "So, how have you been keeping, Holmes?"

"Its been six years, Jack. You even asked me out on a date, I think you can call me Sherlock by now don't you think? I'm doing fine. You're not. Still alive though." Sherlock replied, flicking his eyes up to Jack's for a second and then looking at the point above his head again.

It was Jack's turn to drop his blue eyed gaze, smirking a little bit and rubbing the back of his neck. Damn Sherlock Holmes, with his damn observations that were always spot on.

"Yep, can't get rid of me, I'm afraid! You never did give me that date." he replied in a low wistful tone.

"Mmm… I've had precious little time for dinner." Sherlock replied in an equally quiet tone.

Sherlock hung his head to look at the ground, licking his lips a little. Yes, the pass three years had been hellish, not to follow the disappointment and dullness of the past eight months since returning home, not really having enough time to slow the fuck down. There was no way he was going to tell Jack that he had all the time in the world for dinner now. After a short but heavy silence, he lifted his head and tilted it.

"How is Ianto?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Shrugging, Jack walked to the mantelpiece, running the very tips of his fingers over the notched wood where Sherlock had stabbed his penknife through some important document or other. Several times by the numerous marks. The Cluedo board was still attached to the wall by said penknife. Jack smiled fondly at it and shook his head, wondering how the hell the Doctor had persuaded Sherlock to play that in the first place.

"Fine," he replied at last, grimacing at himself in the mirror a little bit, "Not as interesting as you. We're not together at the moment if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, I see." Sherlock replied in a mutter.

Smirking, Jack glanced at Sherlock who was battling to stop the colour from rising in his cheeks, but he was definitely fighting a loosing battle, not used to such compliments these days.

Pursing his lips Sherlock believed that the chit chat was over and he could get back to his brooding, not that Sherlock would call it brooding. No, he would call it debating or deducing or even just plain old thinking even though it was plain to see he was definitely broody.

Sherlock at last held out the key for Jack to take with a clear of his throat and a little huffing noise. Jack took the chain delicately, his fingers brushing off the back of Sherlock's hand just a little as he closed his fingers around the key. By accident or choice, it was very hard to tell, especially with Jack. Shivering, Sherlock withdrew his hand immediately and tucked it behind his back. He abhorred touching like that, brushes of fingers much more unsettling than actually pressing a hand to the back of someone else's. If it had been by Sherlock's choice to instigate it would have been fine, but that had put him on edge a little bit.

"What about you? You and Watson together?" Jack asked nonchalantly.

"Watson. John… its complicated." Sherlock replied, looking slightly sullen.

"Complicated? How so?" Jack asked, tilting his head.

"I had to leave, for a long time and… I'm not sure if it would be appreciated anymore." Sherlock sighed, his shoulders dropping.

Jack quirked a dark eyebrow and pouted a little bit as if he were greatly disappointed by this little revelation of Sherlock's. Well, actually it wasn't little, it was actually a rather bloody large elephant in the room that Jack now had to circumnavigate.

"So you do fancy him! Pity, guess I missed my chance then." he replied, winking again and taking a step away from Sherlock.

Yeah, that boat had most definitely sailed. Nice going Harkness, put your entire foot in your mouth why don't you, or even better, your leg? Well this conversation was over, perhaps he should get going, get out of the man's raven coloured curly hair so he could get back to his pondering or deducing or whatever called it. But Sherlock had other ideas and just ventured on.

"He's… he's engaged." Sherlock said softly with a rueful smile to the floor.

The detective chewed his lip in annoyance, frowning deeply and squirming his fingers together behind his back in a tight knot of pale skinned knuckles. It was evident he wasn't happy about that idea in the slightest, having his John taken away from him.

"Engaged," Jack questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Tell him how you feel, Sherly!"

Jack clapped Sherlock on the arm who just scowled at him deeply at the little nickname he'd used. Nobody called him Sherly, not even his brother. Not if you didn't want to risk a black eye and a few well cultivated insults thrown your way. But somehow, Jack managed to get away with it.

"I will not be the cause of unhappiness for him. Not again." he replied with a slight snap to his voice.

"You can't let yourself be unhappy either, Sherlock. I'm pretty sure he feels the same way." John shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck with a sigh.

"Unhappy? I don't get unhappy, Jack. You should know that about me by now." Sherlock replied, finally looking up into Jack's eyes.

Shrugging, Jack looked at Sherlock. More than looked at him. He glared at him with an oddly penetrating gaze as if he could look into his very soul. Rolling his eyes he shook his head at Sherlock's narrow-mindedness.

"There's a first for everything." he sighed, not letting the eye contact drop.

"Yes… how was the first time you died?" Sherlock asked with a slight smile.

The detective was doing his damned best to rebuff Jack and try to gain some lost ground back. Another roll of his eyes from Jack, followed by a low sigh.

"It was painful. You get used to it though and eventually it just tickles!" he nodded, fiddling with the key in his hand.

"Hmm…" Sherlock hummed taking a deep breath, "John's happy without me and it felt like dying. But I think it's time for me to accept it and move on."

"You'll never accept it, Sherlock. Look at yourself… you're miserable without him!" Jack frowned.

Sherlock heaved in a massive breath and blew it out slowly, blinking a few dozen times to clear his head.

"Fancy going for a drink?" he asked in all seriousness.

Jack raised an eyebrow and gapped at him, completely and utterly shocked by Sherlock's proposal.

"Wait… what?" he asked, stunned.

"Drink? Do you want to go for one… I feel like I need a drink, you can come if you want." Sherlock said, a hint of a smile on his face.

Striding past the still slightly shocked looking Jack, their shoulders brushed as he went to retrieve his coat and scarf from the back of the door in his bedroom. When Sherlock returned, donning his coat and looping his scarf round his neck looking expectant, Jack's face broke into a grin.

"Yeah, sure… why not!" he beamed, tucking the TARDIS key away in an inside pocket.