John and I are working a case. A double murder! Two people killed at the same place, same time, but on different days! Exciting! John chuckles at my excitement and I can't help but blush. Luckily, John doesn't notice. I hear Lestrade say something but I'm not paying attention. My thoughts are clouded. Damn you John. I blink.

"How much sleep have you had this week Sherlock?" Lestrade asks me.

"Uh, 3 hours." I reply. It's true, I haven't slept much, but that's not the reason that I'm not paying attention.

"Go home Sherlock. We'll continue tomorrow." Lestrade tells me. I nod, but don't move. John sighs and grabs my arm, dragging me to a waiting cab. We sit down in the backseat and the cabby begins the drive tp 221B Baker St.

"Sherlock, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" John asks. I turn to look at him his face is creased with worry lines.

"Tired I guess." I mumble, looking away. Tired of being in love with you. I think. I blink. I love John. I just admitted it. In my head sure, but I admitted it. I laugh. John raises an eyebrow but I quickly wave him away. I, Sherlock Holmes, am in love with my flat mate and partner in solving crime, John Watson.

We step inside the flat a few minutes later and I shrug my coat off and pull off my scarf, hanging them both on their hook. John sits down at his desk, turning on his laptop. I walk into the kitchen and put the bullet fragment on a microscope slide and put it under the lens. I peer into it and see something…I zoom the lens closer.

"Aha!" I exclaim. John looks up at me.

"What?" he asks.

"Poison John! Both victims were shot in the leg, correct?" John nods.

"You won't die from a shot to the leg though! The bullets were coated in poison!" I say excitedly. John chuckles, smiling.

"Sherlock, shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asks. I frown.

"Fine." I walk to my room and halt when I pass the stairwell to John's room. I think for a moment, then dash upwards. He'll think I did it just to irritate him. I unbutton my shirt and throw it into the corner of the room, then curl up in the middle of his bed. It smells like him, of his shampoo and cologne. It smells of John. I soon fall asleep.

I wake up a short time later to the sound of John's annoyed groans.

"Sherlock." he protests. I turn over and smile innocently up at him. John is trying to be angry, but when I smile at him he softens.

"You aren't going to leave are you?" he asks. I shake my head. He sighs.

"Well can you at least have the decency to scoot over?" he says. I scoot over slightly and he climbs under the covers with me. I turn to face him, our noses inches apart.

"Sherlock." John says.

"Yes John?" I reply, smiling slightly.

"Why are you blushing?" my eyes widen and I look away.

"Don't know." I mumble. John shifts slightly so that he is staring me in the eye.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" he asks, worry lines creasing his forehead again.

"Tired." I say, turning on my side and closing my eyes. I feel John lay back down.

"Goodnight Sherlock." he says quietly.

"Night." I mumble in reply, then fall back into the dark clutches of sleep.