So, basically, I decided to combine two tumblr posts I saw into a fanfic! Yay! I only know the source of one of them, and as far as I can tell its source is tumblr user greglestrade. The other one, however, I reblogged about two months ago or so, so I can't really find it. Sorry.


"Since this is likely to be the last conversation I'll have with John Watson, would you mind if we took a moment?" Sherlock said to his brother.

"Hm. He's finally going to tell him," Mycroft muttered to himself. "Who knew he'd ever proclaim his love for his boyfriend?"

"Pardon?" Sherlock asked as though he had not quite hear Mycroft.

"Oh, nothing. Go on, then. Say goodbye."

Mycroft was very sure that his little brother had not heard his small remark. But, being as smart as he is, nothing gets past Sherlock Holmes. And, as annoying as it was to have his brother comment on his love life, Sherlock could not deny Mycroft's statement. Yes, Mycroft Holmes was, as always, correct.

Sherlock strode quickly over to where his best friend stood. He had been planning to tell John for some time, now, and it looked like it would have to be sooner rather than later. But the question was, How? He couldn't just outright state it right away. That would, most likely, put him off. Sherlock decided on simply starting up a conversation first.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes. If you're still looking for baby names," Sherlock said.

"Oh, actually, we're pretty sure it's a girl," John replied.

This would be the perfect time to tell him, Sherlock thought. No. Wait.

After a long pause, the detective broke the silence with, "Sherlock can be a girl's name, too," causing the pair of them to laugh. Oh, how wonderful it was for Sherlock when John laughed.

"Actually, there's something I need to tell you," said Sherlock.

John straightened his face and gazed up at the tall man before him. "And what's that?"

"John Hamish Watson, I love you."

John laughed again, thinking this was just another of Sherlock's antics. But when he saw that Sherlock's expression was one of seriousness, he immediately stopped.

"Wait, you're serious?" Sherlock nodded. John sighed. "Sherlock! I'm married!"

"Yes, but, in case you haven't noticed, I am not using you to get close to me. Or anyone, for that matter."

"Sherlock..." John began, but Sherlock cut him off with a kiss. And, to the surprise of them both, John responded, not with disgust, but with the same, if not more, eagerness as Sherlock. Neither wanted to break their kiss. But alas, Sherlock had to leave. He pulled away and whispered to John, "I love you," before turning away and boarding his plane. As he stepped on, he felt something in his pocket that had not been there previously. He pulled it out: a paper. Just a scrap. Barely anything. But large enough for three small words.

Written on the scrap of paper, in John's scrawl, where the beautiful words, "I love you".

But the peculiar thing about this paper was that, if John had slipped it into Sherlock's pocket during the kiss: 1. He had barely any time to write it out, and 2. Sherlock was sure he would have felt it. So it had to be before then. The funny thing was, though, Sherlock didn't know. For once in his life, Sherlock Holmes, mastermind, did not know. The only person who ever befuddled him was John Watson. And that was one of the many things Sherlock loved about John.