After watching the first episode of BBC Sherlock's Series 2 that idea was stuck in my head. I just had to write down something about John's statement "I'm not actually gay." and about the relationship between Sherlock and The Woman. This scene begins right at the end of the episode and actually the story developed a mind of its own, so I hope, it's not too fluffy in the end.

Have fun!

The Scandal in Belgravia and its aftermath

I left Sherlock with his microscope and went downstairs to hand Irene Adler's file back to Mycroft. He was waiting in front of Speedy's café.

"Where is her phone?" he asked as soon as I had handed him the stuff.

"Sherlock insisted on keeping it."

Mycroft nodded thoughtfully.

"All right. And what about Ms Adler?"

I sighed a little and then said,

"She's in America."

"Yes, she is." Mycroft patted me on the shoulder amiably and started walking away. After a few steps he turned once more towards me, waved with his umbrella and said,

"Thank you, John."

I watched him getting into his car, which just drove up, and then went back inside. Arriving in our living room, I found Sherlock looking out of the window, apparently immersed in his thoughts. I sat down on the couch, took a newspaper, which was lying on the table, and tried to read. However, I had troubles concentrating and kept stealing glances at Sherlock. I worried about him. And I felt bad about not having told him the truth about Irene Adler. He actually had a right to know about her death, had he not! On the other hand, I did not know if he would be able to cope with her death again. Sherlock needed to be protected and it was my job to make sure he was.

I was interrupted in my thoughts when Sherlock took a seat next to me. I could feel that he was staring at me and I pretended to be busily engaged in reading the newspaper. After a while he asked,

"John, do you have anything to get off your chest?"

I looked at him rather surprised,

"No. Why?"

"Oh, I was just wondering, because you were reading this article about…" he came closer in order to get a better look at the heading "…about our celebrities' latest divorces for the what, third time? I didn't know you were so interested in that topic. Also, if you don't stop shuffling your feet, we will have a hole in our carpet very soon. I guess Mrs. Hudson would not be that amused."

At least there was no need to worry about his deduction skills. I shook my head,

"No, I'm fine. Seriously…everything's fine."

"Good.", Sherlock said and continued staring at me, which I did my best to ignore. A couple of minutes passed in silence, and then Sherlock began to speak again,

"By the way, John, thank you for telling me that story about the witness protection programme."

Oh, blimey! What was that all about? I threw the newspaper on the table and looked at Sherlock,

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I understand what you tried to do there and I appreciate it. I just wanted you to know that."

I took a deep breath. So he already knew. Of course he did. How could I genuinely think he would not find out?

"So, then you know that Irene Adler isn't in America?" I asked carefully.

"Oh, is she not?"

I frowned and answered,

"No, Sherlock. She is not. She is dead."

"Oh, is she?" Sherlock grinned triumphantly.

"Sherlock!"

I began to suspect that he knew much more than I did.

"Would you mind telling me what you are suggesting here?"

But of course he did mind and remained cryptically. He just smiled and said,

"The Woman is not dead, John, and you don't have to worry about me. That's all you need to know and all I'm going to say."

"Well, that's a surprise." I really was astounded and a bit confused as well. Had Irene Adler once more been able to deceive us all? And where was she now? I was sure that Sherlock would under no circumstances tell me anything else and so I did not really know what to say. Therefore, after a few seconds, I asked,

"Anyway, who said, I worry about you?"

Sherlock raised his left eyebrow,

"I know you do."

I nodded and randomly looked through the room.

"So, are you going to see her again?" I asked.

"Why should I?"

I tried to read from his face what he was thinking, but I was incapable of finding out anything and said,

"Well, usually one sees his girlfriend regularly." Naturally, Sherlock noticed my unasked question and answered,

"Not my girlfriend."

"But what was it then between you two?" I could not help asking although I didn't expect to get an answer. However, surprisingly Sherlock did respond,

"Call it mutual attraction caused by an immense intellect. In some respects we have a very similar way of thinking and in a way I care about her. The Woman just knows how to play the game."

"So you don't love her?"

Sherlock looked me straight in the eye,

"Love her? No. I actually thought it was ages ago when I pointed out, that the girlfriend stuff is not really my area."

"Ok…well…fine." I stammered. This could be my chance, our chance, maybe the only one we would ever get. My thoughts were racing. Sherlock was so close and I didn't know what to do. I knew what I eagerly longed for though, but what would the consequences be… Oh, bollocks to that! When being a soldier taught me one thing, then it was to be brave and to take one's chances. So I just did it. I leaned forward, closed my eyes and kissed Sherlock Holmes.

And he kissed me back. It was a desperate kiss, a deep kiss and the most incredible one I've ever had. Up to the point where Sherlock suddenly grabbed my arms and rejected me. His face mirrored shock and he jumped to his feet.

"John!" he cried, "What have you done?"

He wandered around and shook his head. I looked at him helplessly. Something had gone very, very wrong.

"Sherlock, I…"

But he interrupted me,

"How dare you! Do you actually care about me at all?"

Sherlock was angry and hurt and I did not understand. It was so odd to see him that emotional. I stood up as well and approached him. I tried to touch him, yet he avoided me.

"Sherlock, listen to me. Please." I had no clue of what I was going to say. I just started babbling away, "Of course I care about you. I care about you much more than about anyone else, you know."

But once again I was interrupted by Sherlock,

"Then why on earth did you kiss me?" His lower lip was trembling.

"I thought that's what we both wanted." I said and it indeed was the truth. When we kissed, I was absolutely sure that it was complying with our desires, fulfilling and perfect.

"But how can that be what you want? You are not actually gay. I heard you saying so. Don't play with me!"

Very slowly I began to grasp what was going on in Sherlock's mind. And with a bit of relief I realised that there was still hope. It was not all over yet and I just panted out the words that came to my mind,

"Oh, Sherlock, I'm not playing with you. You're right. I said it. I told Irene Adler that I was not actually gay. And in the proper meaning of the word I am really not. I never was. I always liked women. But then I met you and you turned my world upside down, even more so in the last few months. Yet, it took me quite a while to understand and to accept it. I can't explain it, seriously, I don't know. It wasn't so easy, a kind of gradual process or something. Anyways, the truth is, when it comes to you, I don't care any longer, what I am. I just care about you. About us."

I looked at Sherlock in anticipation and waited for his reaction. He scratched his head and opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, closed it again, opened it, took a deep breath and took a step towards me. Apparently he was still searching for words, but finally croaked out,

"Oh, crumpets…. So…you and I do actually both…you do in fact…"

There were no more words needed. I just nodded and we approached one another, embraced and hold us tight. I kissed Sherlock again and this time we only stopped when we both had to take some breath. Sherlock took my hand and softly moved me over to the couch. There we sat down, he put his arm around me and I put my head on his shoulder. We remained like that for quite a while and I just enjoyed Sherlock's presence and his closeness.

Eventually he said,

"I think I'm seeing it now."

"Seeing what?"

"I got it all the wrong way round. I observed the right things, but I drew the wrong conclusions. You were jealous all the time we were involved in the Adler-case and I thought it was because you liked her. But actually it was because you liked me. I wonder why I wasn't able to deduce that."

"Maybe it was because I didn't want you to deduce it. I thought you had fallen in love with The Woman and all I wanted was you to be fine."

We were silent for a few moments. Then we both started to laugh.

"We are such idiots." Sherlock said and I agreed,

"Yeah, seriously. We are."

Sherlock stole another short kiss from me and gave me a loving smile. I was amazed that he, contrary to all claims, was very well able to show his feelings. And, being the target of his emotional outbreaks, I also was the happiest man in the world.

Suddenly something came to my mind and I said,

"By the way, Sherlock, I heard about Moriarty's nicknames for you and your brother. The Iceman and The Virgin."

Sherlock snorted indignantly,

"Mycroft must have told you. I should tell Mummy that he still is a bloody little telltale."

I giggled but quickly became earnest again and hesitantly asked,

"Uhm, Sherlock, but actually you're not a virgin anymore, are you?"

I really hoped not to have stretched a point there, yet I needed to know. Sherlock however gave me an amused glance and answered,

"Dear God, John. Of course I'm not. And if I were I bet we would change that very soon, wouldn't we?"

With these words Sherlock slowly began to unbutton my shirt and involved me in a breath-taking kiss.