"Must you continue to play that?" John watched his flat mate with curiosity as the violin was being strung with ease.

Sherlock paused the motion of his bow against the strings, "It helps me think."

"But you haven't a case?"

"Don't I?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Then you're not thinking!" Sherlock put the violin down and walked over to John. His eyes were looking John over as if to point out yet another flaw in John's stature.

"Sherlock, what are you-?" Before John could make out another word, Sherlock had placed his lips on John's and was pushing with great force as if attempting to push John over using his lips.

A few seconds later Sherlock pulled away and sat down in the chair on the other side of John.

"Sherlock…" John was clearly in shock as his thought pattern was going haywire.

"I just wanted to know what it was like." Sherlock said leaning back in his chair as if nothing happen.

"What it was like?" John faced Sherlock and started pacing ecstatically. "Sherlock Holmes just wanted to know what it was like! You've got to be kidding me!"

"I honestly don't know what you're pacing for John. You're acting like a wild beast."

"A wild beast? A wild beast! Of course I'm acting like a wild beast! Someone who everyone knows has no interest in anyone but himself decides, on a whim, to kiss me! Me! Me of all people! No wonder why people get this weird impression from you. I didn't want to believe it at first, no, I couldn't, but now! Now, the rumors are true! Sherlock Holmes is gay!"

"I'm not gay, John."

John stopped pacing for a moment and pointed to him and Sherlock as if trying to describe that something that happened between them that couldn't be spoken, "Then what do you call that?!"

"An experiment."

"An experiment?!"

"Yes. See, I noticed when I got closer to you, your breathing got heavy. Not in a close proximity kind of way, but the way it would seem when you want to be romantically involved with someone. Your eyes didn't know where to go, so they went to my lips, perhaps a fantasy of yours or just nervous intention. You also seem to watch me intently while I play the violin, and frankly, it's annoying, but no one else would do that sort of thing you see, because everyone tends to focus their attention more than just the performer, the musical instrument perhaps, the surroundings, something other than the performer, but you, you just watch me. You have this slight smile when you watch me too. Like I said, it's quite annoying."

John stood there dumbstruck.

Then they sat there, silent for a minute.

"John, do you fancy me?" Sherlock broke the silence.

"Why would you ask such a question?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No."

Sherlock looked John straight in the eye and proceeded to explain why he came to this conclusion with the same exact details as before.

"But why would it matter if my breathing changed when you got close?" John asked ignoring Sherlock's original reasoning for him fancying Sherlock. "You could have done anything. I'm always on alert, Sherlock, that's all it is."

"Yes, but you were in the war. Your breathing wouldn't change that drastically to something you've already been through."

John looked at Sherlock as if Sherlock was seeing right through him.

"All those ladies you had strutting around. It's all an act to get me to notice you, John. I notice you, just not in the way you want me to. Your simple mind enthralls me and that's why I keep you around, John. That is the only reason I keep you around." Sherlock explained.

"Sherlock, do you fancy me?" John hesitantly asked.

Sherlock looked at him and sighed. "No."

"Then why insist on the experiment?"

"That's precisely why it's an experiment – to eliminate all outcomes of an idea."

"But what… Gave me away…?" John continued to be timid with his questions.

"Well, aside from your breathing, which I've told you twice now, it's that you watch me with such curiosity—"

"Everyone does that." John interrupted.

"No. You watch me differently than others."

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson called up the stairs. "Someone's here to see you!"

"I'm coming down Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock shouted back, getting up from the chair, nearly pushing John over and bumping into Mrs. Hudson on the way out the door.

"He's always in a rush." Mrs. Hudson said, and she glanced around the room looking for someone to direct her comment to. "Bet he's not always in a rush though." She added once she got John's eye.

She smiled and left.

John sighed with anguish and sat down where his flat mate was just sitting.