A/N : This story will contain slash at some point so if that don't float your boat this isn't the fic for you! Also reviews would mean the world to me, I'm unsure about how well this went...
John dropped his bag with a sigh and embraced his sister warmly, ruffling his hands in her cropped hair before pulling away beaming.
"It's shorter than I remember"
"Do you like it? Mum says it makes me look like you" Harry replied pulling a face and earning a playful punch on the shoulder from the doctor as he walked past her shaking his head.
Dropping into a plush armchair he gazed around smiling at the pictures of Harry on her wedding day, dressed in a lilac cocktail dress one arm clinging to a suited Clara the other draped over the shoulders of their father, the frame placed carefully behind a small collection of AA chips denoting 6 months of sobriety forming a display of Harry's achievements, a Watson family tradition with John's own collection kept safe from meddling detectives at his parents' house in Shropshire.
"So what happened? Trouble in paradise?"
"You could say that" John frowned into his lap pensively, "he's just being himself and I know he can't help it but body parts that are not my own in my bed is not conducive to a healthy home environment"
Harry raised an eyebrow, "Body parts not your own, I would have thought that would make quite a happy home, especially considering how much you talk about him" she added with a wink.
"Don't be obscene; the body parts in question were dead and under my pillow"
"Dead? Who is this guy?"
"Don't worry they have a legit source, it's some experiment or other about the rate of decay in the conditions beneath a pillow, somehow it was vital to determining time of death in one of his newest cases" Ignoring the worried expression across from him he continued, "It's not the dead bodies I mind, he has to get data somewhere, can't make bricks without clay and all that, it's the fact he didn't ask! And not to mention the fact he seems to want to destroy any hope I have of happiness with anyone else, distractions he calls them, distractions like it's just my job to sit around while he barks his deductions at me. I barely say anything back to him he doesn't need me there for him to deduce so why he insists upon it I have no idea. Sometimes I think he just wants to make me as lonely as he is..."
"Whoa whoa calm down motor mouth" leaning forward Harry patted her brother's hand gently, eyebrows now firmly knitted in concern.
John released the last of his breath and sunk backwards in the chair, he hadn't noticed that as he talked he had assumed the classic Sherlock thought position and he shuddered that the man had now begun to seep even into his own mannerisms."So how's your life going? I see you are Clara are having another go at it"
"How did you know that?"
"Well for a start the wedding picture is back on your 'display' and secondly there is a number of shoes in the hall some of them one size smaller than the others, indicating she spends enough time here that she can leave her shoes lying around. Also there is a mug in the kitchen with a smear if lipstick on it in Clara's shade and you don't wear lipstick, did she move back in or something?"
"I think he is rubbing off on you!"Harry said with a laugh.
"I wish" John countered moodily.
"Oh gross" she snorted nudging him with her foot causing a smile to bubble at the corners of his mouth, "So no luck with the wooing?"
"As far as I know Sherlock doesn't even know what sex IS besides a motive, I mean if he hasn't noticed the blatancy of Molly's attempts or those of that stupid hot guy at the Queen's Head, what hope do I have?"
"Have you even tried, you know, asking him out on a date or anything?"
"He made it quite clear when we met he was married to the job and I don't want to risk losing whatever it is that we've got"
"Then if you are so in love with him why have you come here complaining about living with the guy?"
"I don't even know, I guess it was just getting too much. You don't know what it's like to be that frustrated around someone while also having to deal with that person being completely insane. Living in that flat is nothing like normal life, I just though maybe a week somewhere normal doing normal things around my sister might make me feel better and by the way I'm not in love with him, it's just a fucking crush"
"Say no more Bro, let me put the kettle on and we can settle down and watch Top Gear or something, get your mind off lover boy" Harry laughed, dodging the perfectly aimed cushion from the armchair and ducking into the kitchen.
Suddenly, a loud crash and a yelp had John out of his chair and moving towards the kitchen, pausing only to pull the Browning from the side pocket of his bag, kept as a promise to Mycroft that they at least arm themselves while Moriaty was still at large. After the explosion that had threatened to kill them three months earlier the older Holmes had implemented a number of security measures and guidelines for the baker street pair.
Skidding on the tiled floor he instinctively grabbed Harry's arm and pulled her behind him as he entered, aiming his gun at the apparent intruder.
"Sherlock?"
The detective looked up and grinned from his position splayed across the sink and drying rack besides feet still sticking out of the open window as though he had taken a run and jump 6ft into the window, hauling himself up and onto the previously cleaned china.
"John! Thank god I got the right flat"