"Don't.Even.Think.About.It." The great detective froze halfway.

"Don't even think about what, my dear Watson?" he said, attempting a casual tone as he backed away a few inches from his dearest friend, who stood between him and the door, absolutely fuming.

"Don't try to be funny, Holmes. I know what you're trying to do."

"Really, Watson? I'm glad to see your deductive skills are improving." His attempted mixed sarcasm and humor did not work when Watson continued looking as dangerous as ever.

"If you dare try to sneak out one of my stories so that you can 'improve' it, you'll find yourself in trouble. A lot of trouble."

Holmes pulled at his cuffs self consciously; he suddenly wondered if it how much it would hurt if he jumped from three floors. Their window looked like an excellent escape route.

"I'm waiting, Holmes. Hand it over now."

He pushed the manuscript deeper into his pocket and backed away a little. Maybe he could-

Their was a swish and Watson dived. Something Holmes had not expected. He reacted.

Let us turn our minds from this wrestling duo and, instead, turn our minds to the wonderful beauty of nature which can be observed from this window. Observe the birds twittering-

"Give it back, Holmes!"

"Watson-ack- I assure you I have my reasons!"

"You can have no bloody reason for messing with my manuscripts!"

"I have all the reason in the world!"

"And that is?! Wait, you're distracting me-"

"I'm not! Watson, I do not always have an ulterior motive!"

"Oh really? What about the case about the butter dish, huh?!"

"It was an accident!"

"Some accident! Now give it back!"

"Watson, I assure you, this is for the good of the public-oof!"

"Public good? Public good?"

"Watson, I-"

"Alright Holmes, that's the absolute last straw." Silence.

Are they quite done? Ah, so they are. Now we may return to them.

Watson stood in front of Holmes, blocking out any escape route, his nostrils flared, clutching a manuscript which looked like it had been targeted by a pack of hungry dogs.

To be absolutely truthful, you may not want to know the expression on the great detective's face. It will change your opinion of him. It will, believe me.

Suffice to say that he looked as if he was regretting every single time he snapped at Watson.

"I'm waiting, Holmes." The cold in Watson's tone has reached freezing point. Holmes flinches.

"My reasons, Watson, are perfectly sound." For a moment, Holmes looks almost ashamed.

"Are they?" Watson scowls fiercly, "If I remember correctly you gave me permission to write this case up in full and even proof read it so that the public may not be appalled by what I had written." He waved the manuscript in front of 

Holmes's face. "Well? What's wrong now?" The Empty House was than crushed back into his grip.

"It..isn't about the case, Watson. I…just did not want people to know how… despicably I had treated you. For three years." His face was hidden. "It might change their…idea of me."

There was a moment of silence and Holmes finally thought he had crossed the line. Admitting to Watson that he craved public attention after all he had said! Dear lord, a lot of things were going to change after his return.

"You came back. That was enough." Holmes looked up to see Watson smiling warmly at him, all traces of anger gone, a suspicious brightness in his eyes.

"Watson, what-?" Holmes broke of suddenly, understanding. A rare smile followed.

"I suppose then, we should go out to eat today. Marcini's?"

"Of course, Holmes."

It was a nice feeling then, Holmes thought, to have a friend as true as him.

Ok this is slightly fluffy, couldn't help it. Weird topic, right? Still never mind. This was supposed to go up much earlier but exams….you can guess the rest.

This is dedicated to someone called the 'Walking Canon' of . or ACD's reincarnation, or one of the best Holmes Watson writers. Ever. And I'm not being flattering here, stop smirking back there.

We all know her.