A little Birthday gift for my good friend, Mattsloved1 – Happy Birthday my dear, have a lovely day!
Disclaimer: I own only the original story and characters….damn!
John stood back, letting Sherlock 'do his stuff' as Lestrade had liked to call it. It fascinated John still, after all the years they had been together, although now Lestrade had retired, and Dimmock was a DCI, so they found themselves working with new people.
"Don't let Sherlock ruin their careers too quickly" Greg had quipped as they had stood, side by side, beside the buffet table at his retirement party, looking across the room to where Sherlock was trying to explain to the newly promoted Detective Inspector Frank Laine how to tell the difference between the ash from a Havana cigar and one made in Turkey.
The same Frank Laine was now standing beside John, half his attention on the still agile figure of the consulting detective, the other half on the man standing beside him, whose clear blue eyes watched, whose lips were curved in a small smile. Laine had heard all the rumours, although admittedly most had come from DI Sally Donovan and her significant other, Dr Anderson.
"You…um…you and Mr Holmes…"
"Sherlock" John said, his eyes never leaving the deducing genius, "He has an older brother who is 'Mr Holmes' – Sherlock's just, well, Sherlock!"
"Oh, right." Feeling a little awkward, Laine tried again. "Are you…I mean…do you….?"
John turned now, his attention switching to the younger man.
"Yes"
"You do?" Laine's voice had risen to a squeak, and several other officers turned to look at them.
"Of course we do – we have since our first case"
Laine flushed a deep red under the steady blue gaze. He dropped his eyes to stare at his shoes, hoping the sudden uncomfortable feeling would go away, but when he looked up again John had tilted his head to one side, considering the man beside him. Something in the doctor's demeanour must have emboldened the police officer because he leaned closer, smiling as if eager to share a secret.
"Do you know, I thought Sally Donovan was pulling my leg when she told me about you two, I mean, you're ex-army, and he's…"
"He's a scientist, first and foremost" John's expression didn't change, and only Sherlock caught the slight edge to his voice "And what does my being in the army have to do with anything?"
"Well nothing, I mean…."
Sherlock approached, his eyes on John's face, reading there a mixture of resignation and calculation, and whilst he wondered what the end result might be, he spoke only to advise on his findings.
"It's clearly a suicide, Laine; she killed herself and tried to frame her ex-husband – probably because she was still depressed at being ditched for a younger lover."
John straightened up and looked up at Sherlock, his expression unreadable to any but the man in front of him.
"Come on then, I've got to get you home…"
The silence that fell in the room was such that a pin dropping would have sounded like a crack of thunder. John saw that Laine's eyes were almost bugging out on stalks.
"You mean….I mean….but…."
"Detective Inspector Laine – Frank, can I call you Frank? Good. Now you've got to understand that Sherlock and I have lived our lives in the eye of the storm for years" He turned, his blue eyes holding Laine's hazel ones, almost daring him to look away. "Everything we do – everything – is done in the public domain. It's open for everyone and anyone to see"
"Everything?" unwittingly his eyes, having broken free of John's gaze, now travelled down the other man's body, lingering just below his waist.
John held his temper, and his nerve.
"Well of course! We have a fan base that can't get enough of the cases we help with. Writing a blog is the best way to feed the need, and to be fair, Sherlock's Science of Deduction website existed long before I started writing. We like to get the blog – and the science behind it – written up as quickly as possible"
"Blog? Website? But I thought…."
"You did ask me if Sherlock and I write about our cases, didn't you? That was what you were talking about when you asked if Sherlock and I…." he let the question hang in the charged atmosphere of the room.
Frank Laine wished the floor would open up and swallow him. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. John smiled, looked around at the officers standing around and nodded politely. Then, with his smartest parade-ground about-face, he marched out of the room, Sherlock keeping pace beside him.
Fortunately the crime scene was not far from Baker Street, so they walked, John engrossed in his own thoughts, Sherlock surreptitiously watching the blond doctor. Not a word was spoken as they let themselves into the house, and climbed the stairs.
Entering the flat, John walked through to the living room and stopped beside the coffee table. Sherlock hung up his coat and scarf, put his gloves into his coat pocket, and walked round to stand in front of the other man.
"Alright?" his deep baritone washed over the doctor and he looked up, one hand reaching into soft ebony curls, the other sliding around to pull the taller man towards him.
Sherlock's head dipped, John's lips reached up to taste the familiar taste of home, of his genius lover.
Without breaking the kiss, they moved slowly towards their bedroom, softly running their hands over each other, touching and being touched, until the back of John's knees hit the bed and he fell, gracefully, on top of the covers. Sherlock paused long enough to kick his shoes off then climbed up beside him.
"Writing your blog?"
John chuckled
"Updating your website?"
"Did he really ask you if we were a couple?"
John looked up from the attention he was giving to the buttons on Sherlock's shirt, his face quite serious.
"If he had, I might well have taken him to one side and given him a lesson in good manners and socially acceptable questions to ask of someone you barely know." A wicked grin split his face "As it was, he didn't actually ask anything…"
"And a Blog by any other name…"
"Still wouldn't turn me on as much as you do" The doctor smiled, reaching once more for the man beside him.