(John Watson and Female Sherlock Holmes)

"Meet me outside"-SH

"For God's sake. I've had this a thousand times before. I don't need any more bloody pranks!"-JW

"This is no prank."-SH

"Prove it…"-JW

"You invaded Afghanistan"-SH

"W-What?"

"At the bottom of the stairs. If I recall correctly you said: That was the worst thing I've ever done. I replied with the fact that you invaded Afghanistan."-SH

John Watson jumped out his bed and ran down to the door. His hand halted above the door knob. What if it was Moriarty?

He slowly pulled open the door. Through the crack, he could see the long dark curls. The white complexion and the cheek bones that had fascinated him so much when she was alive.

She noticed the crack in the door and leant towards it, her eyes coming alive with sparks.

"J-John?"

With one hand, she pulled the door open, leaving it to bash against 221B's wall. With one long stride, she was in front of him. The long billowing coat was still on.

The blood stained shirt was still there, but the blood was dry and a dark red.

"S-Sherlock? Where the hell have you been!? "John slapped Sherlock hard, leaving a mark on her cheek. She looked at him with widened eyes, the spark now gone.

"I-I had to protect you…"

"Protect me! From what?"

"Moriarty wouldn't let you live if he knew I was alive,"

Watson slammed the door into his face and sunk to his knees. Protect him!?

Holmes was the worst liar in history. His phone pinged, making his back pocket vibrate.

"Let me in"-SH

"No"-JW

"Fine. I'll climb in"-SH

"What!? You idiot! I'll open up!" –JW

"You could of said that before I climbed over to the window"-SH

That last message made his heart race. Would Sherlock have been so stupid as to actually consider that idea? His thoughts were cut off by a sharp tap on the window.

Sherlock was crouched there. Her long curls windswept, she smiled at him, gesturing for him to open the window. John yanked it open, making Sherlock fall through, onto the top of him. He feverishly pushed her off. She rolled off him and lay next to him.

"I deduce that you don't hate me…"

"How'd you work that one out?"

"By the way you opened the window, your fingers were shaking, and your face was white."

He intertwined his fingers with Sherlock's. He missed the feel of the silky skin and the smile that she always gave him. He lent his head on her shoulder and snuggled into her curls.

"Guess you missed me?" John Watson nodded,

"Love you Sherlock…" Sherlock turned to face him.

"And I love you…John."