As it seems repetitive, I am back from hiatus. I got… Really busy. College, new job, moving; life is crazy. i hope you're still here for the ride. I'm back, baby. Back at it again with another Johnlock. I have no idea where I'm taking this, but I'm ready to take it by the horns and give you all something worth while. Reviews with recommendations are always requested, as ideas from the audience can help my imagination go wild. I love and have missed you all. Happy reading! 3

Chapter One: The Beginning

When the army doctor walked into the room, Sherlock's eyes perked up at his sight. Older, but attractive. Takes himself too seriously, but cute. Unable to focus on his room due to the new presence, he put the syringe and vile down. Sherlock glanced up at him, intrigued.

"Hello, I'm John." The army doctor said.

"Hmm."

"I've been told to come here—" Unable to finish due to Sherlock cutting him off.

"By a friend of mine, eh? Interesting. How are you with violin music? In the middle of the night?"

"I'm… What? Why are you asking?" Confused.

"Well you show up days after I tell a friend that I'm looking for a flatmate, I'm going to assume you too are looking for one. Are you okay with complete silence for hours? Days?" Sherlock continued with his questions, leaving John more confused.

"That's… That's all fine." John cut Sherlock off during his rampant question asking.

"Oh, perfect!" Sherlock grabbed his coat and walked to the door. "The address is 221B Baker Street and the name is Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock winked and walked out.

— Two Months Later —

"Sherlock! Where are my pants?! What have you done with them!" John yelled, standing in the living room shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist. Sherlock wandered out of his room to answer the doctor's demands.

"They are elsewhere. I needed them. Experiment. They'll be returned soon."

"Soon?! I need them now, Sherlock! They were my last pair!" John demanded.

"Oh you look fine without them." Sherlock winked and walked gracefully back into his bedroom, grabbing his own pair of pants and tossed them towards John whom caught them with ease. "Wear mine. I promise I'll get yours back."

"You're like 10 meters taller than me! These won't fit!" Still frustrated.

"Yes they will." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You're so dramatic."

"I am not. I am not dramatic."

"Mmmmmhhhhmmm." Sherlock went back into his bedroom and closed the door. John threw the pants onto the couch and stormed off to his bedroom to find clothes. He came back, fully dressed.

"Oh you found them! Perfect. Those look better on you anyway." Sherlock said as he walked through the kitchen to his chair and plopped down gleefully. "Things! We have so many things! Are you ready to leave John? All dressed? Yes?" He got back up and grabbed his coat and scarf. "Let's go!" Sherlock exclaimed, but John grabbed his arm to stop him.

"I've told you hundreds of times to slow down already, you get so excited, what do we have to do anyway?" He asked, looking into his eyes.

Sherlock stared into his blue eyes, dazed by their beauty and hypnotized by their sight. John was a handsome man, especially for his age and what he's done. Sherlock could get lost in his face for days. Just perfect.

"Hello? Are you listening? Sherlock? What are we doing?" John asked impatiently.

"Going for a walk." Sherlock smiled and took John's hand, leading him down the stairs and out onto the street. Still holding his hand without discomfort, feeling complete in his ways.

This was the beginning of something unexpected.