"Sherlock, hurry up! The line's just getting longer!" John yelled back at his flatmate over the roar of the crowd.

"Coming, John," Sherlock called. He had gotten distracted by one of those "World's Smallest Horse" booths, not because he found it intriguing like some of the other people who were willing to pay to see it, but because he was explaining to the person working the booth how genetically impossible it was for a horse to be the size advertized. Unless, of course, in the few hours he had been away from his computer, science had been taken to a whole new level and scientists were now able to create 7 centimeter high horses.

Sherlock excused himself from the baffled employee and began wading through the crowd to get to John. There were so many different smells, bright lights, and strange noises at the amusement park, Sherlock felt like he was about to explode. Dead bodies, he could handle, but if one more chubby kid in a shirt that was so stained with greasy fair food the original color was undistinguishable ran past him, Sherlock would scream.

He never even liked amusement parks anyway, they were always so obnoxious and made his head hurt. He only came because John saw the sign on the way back from a case and apparently "hadn't been to one in years and please, Sherlock, can we go it'll be so much fun" and because John was Sherlock's boyfriend and Sherlock had been working on being more caring, he agreed.

Sherlock caught up with John and linked his arm through his partner's.

"John, it is very loud here."

"Yeah, idiot, it's a fair, now c'mon, we have to ride Doomsday at least once before closing time."

Doomsday was the biggest ride there, far bigger than anything Sherlock had ever ridden before. That was because the consulting detective had never actually ridden a roller coaster. He was always too busy with his experiments , and to tell the truth, a little scared. But he wasn't about to let John know that. He could deduce that John looked up to him and saw him as protection (even though for Sherlock it was the other way around) but Sherlock couldn't let his army doctor down. Besides, roller coasters were just high speed machines with g-force and high altitude drops. How bad could it be?

They arrived at the back of the line, and Sherlock put his head on John's shoulder.

"I am going to visit my mind palace for a moment John, so please don't get offended when I don't answer you."

Sherlock placed his forefinger on his temple and stepped through the heavy white doors. He was greeted by a man who took his coat and a woman who gave him a cigarette. He gazed upon the rectangular room, which had evenly placed doors all around its perimeter. Each had a single word on it in elaborate, ornate lettering. Family, work, maps. Sherlock walked past these doors to the farthest wall, to the grandest, most beautiful door in the entire palace.

John.

Sherlock turned the curving handle and stepped inside.

The room was lined with row upon row of filing cabinets, each labeled with key words that triggered certain memories pertaining to John that Sherlock never wanted to forget. Angelo's. Jumper. Bedroom.

Sherlock gazed at each word in turn, something he liked to do when John was not with him and he was getting bored. Once he reached the end of the labeled cabinets, and stood facing the few blank ones, and began writing in the same ornate lettering on one. Fair.

Even though it was loud and reeked of fried food and sweat, John was here, and Sherlock enjoyed making him happy. Once the label was finished, Sherlock made his way out of the room, carefully locking the door behind him and came out of his mind palace to find that they were almost to the front of the line.

"Welcome back," John said when he saw Sherlock open his eyes and look around. "Have a nice visit?"

"Yes I did, actually, because I was visiting your room."

"You- you have a room for me?"

"Yes, I thought you knew. That's where I put everything that reminds me of you and all of the memories we share so I don't forget a single—"

Apparently, John was quite flattered by the fact Sherlock had a room just for him in his mind palace, because he reached up and kissed his detective deeply. John's arms wrapped around his neck, while Sherlock hugged him at the waist.

When they broke apart, Sherlock leaned his head on John's.

"I love you, Sherlock."

"I love you too, John."

Sherlock planted one more kiss on John's lips before saying, "Now I'm really having a fantastic time here snogging you but there's only one group ahead of us now so we should probably stop and get ready to board the ride."

"Oh, right. I didn't even realize we'd moved."

They straightened their clothes and got their tickets ready as the group ahead of them got in the train. Sherlock and John handed their tickets to the pimply teenage employee and sat down side by side. Their seats and seatbelts were black, while the outside of the train was red, to be consistent with the "death theme." Once everyone was seated and buckled, the coaster slowly rolled out of the station and approached a large incline.

Sherlock and John were near the back, so they didn't feel the chk-chk-chk of the chain until most everyone else was a fourth of the way up the lift hill. As they approached the top, Sherlock grabbed Johns arm and realized what a horrible idea this was. But there was no going back now, the people in the front of the train had reached the top and were starting to go over.

"John, you know I love you, right?"

"Sherlock, yeah, but we're not going to die! Oh look, we're about to go down! Here it comes!"

Sherlock just now noticed what a very steep decline he was about to experience, and squeezed John's arm so tight, his own arm was thrust into the air with John's as his boyfriend threw his hands up and started screaming happily.

And then they went down. It was very fast and very steep and Sherlock felt the same feeling in his stomach when he first laid eyes on John Watson.

Sherlock reminded himself that the initial drop was always the worst. Coasters turned the potential energy accumulated by the rise in height into kinetic energy produced by the cars rapidly descending down the hill. This energy was then used to fuel in part the rest of the—

They launched toward the ground as they passed the peak of the second hill. Stomach drop. Sherlock could think of nothing he wanted more than to get off of this ride that very instant. A sharp curve. The detective planned his escape route, accounting for coaster speed, distance from ground, number and type of injuries he would experience if he jumped at a particular moment—

A small drop, but still enough to make Sherlock nauseous. He carefully detached himself from John, who was having the time of his life, and moved to unbuckle the frankly alarmingly easy to unlock seatbelt just as he lurched forward.

"Thank you for riding Doomsday! We hope you enjoyed your ride! Please exit quickly to your right."

Sherlock looked up, confused.

"C'mon, Sherlock," John tugged at his arm. "Wow, wasn't that great? It was like a blast from the past, I can't remember the last time I had that much fun, besides the other night with you of course."

Sherlock slowly stood up and took John's hand in his trembling one.

"Sherlock, what's wrong? Do you not like roller coasters?"

"No, they're… fine…"

"Oh god, Sherlock I'm so sorry, you should have told me!" John helped Sherlock out of the seat, just noticing how green his boyfriend looked.

"Let's get you out of here and back home, yeah?"

"Yeah." Sherlock was suddenly overwhelmed by love for John Watson. He didn't care that he felt like vomiting up his insides, or that his head felt like it took a beating from a steel rod. He only cared that John was next t him and he had the privilege to be with this man.

The couple exited the ride and made their way back through the screaming crowd. John never let go of Sherlock's hand and Sherlock's eyes never let go of John.