…

FYI-The fanfic is based on Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law in the 2009 Sherlock Holmes movie.

Disclaimer- I don't own RDJ or JL or Sherlock Holmes… Or a rabbit as a matter of fact

Summery-

Sherlock and Watson have a complex relationship, Its about to get more complicated.

-The morning after the night before

Chapter 4: "good show old boy"

Watson didn't want to loose his friendship with Holmes. They were practically brothers and in all honesty he wasn't sure if he would live without his brother and he was sure Holmes wouldn't last long without a visit from a stable mind once in a while. With this in mind he knew he has to think of some way to keep Sherlock preoccupied so what had happened the past two days wouldn't happen again. As he entered the house once again he picked up the stack of letters outside Sherlock's parlour, which Mrs Hudson had left there since she refused to enter the room unless Watson was present. All the letters seemed to be the usual case letters asking for the brilliant Sherlock Holmes for help. It made Watson smile that through everything people still thought of him as a form of savoir and were totally docile in thinking he was of sound mind. He entered the room and was briefly surprised to see nothing remotely dangerous was currently happening as it usually was, that was until he noticed Sherlock sat in his usual chair, mouth wide open and fast asleep. Watson took the chair next to him, his attention still on the letters, and hit Sherlock in the knee with his cane causing Sherlock to jump to attention with a shout.

"It bit me!"

Watson looked at his friend with his eyebrow raised and Sherlock noticed he wasn't in his dream now and embarrassingly mumbled his sense.

"The horse..Bit…me"

Watson nodded in understanding before he spoke.

"You're wasting your time Holmes, You need to get back on a case, use your mind before you render yourself brain dead"

Sherlock knew that john was trying to distract him. But then again john never tried to hide it. He had made his feelings towards past events crystal clear to Holmes and although thinking of it ached Sherlock's chest he had already decided the night before that he wasn't going to stop just yet.

"I assure you, my dear Watson, that if any case was sufficient to distract me I would already have pursued it" he stood and pulled at a slight string near the door of the room that rang downstairs to Mrs Hudson to bring tea.

"These are merely letters from people who know the answer and are unwilling to accept it"

"Maybe one case isn't sufficient enough but why not more than one?"

Sherlock couldn't answer his question and stood, his mouth bobbing like a fish. Watson took this as a go ahead and read one of the letters to Holmes.

"Mrs Baxter's prize bird had been stolen, a rare hawk which she kept in an aviary in her gardens, the guard outside saw no intruders…"

"Mrs Baxter's prize bird was simply let free, the birds keeper made a mistake of leaving the aviary open as he went inside to free the bird. The guard saw no intruder because…"

"Because the keeper wasn't seen as an intruder?" Watson guessed almost positive he got it right.

"Even so the guard would have reported seeing the keeper enter the aviary last" Holmes corrected, "The guard and keeper are much too 'close' to let the keeper be punished for his stupidity"

"Close?" Watson asked intrigued but moments later, at Sherlock's slight smile, he realised what he had meant by the word.

"Lets just say there is no Mary where they are concerned" Sherlock looked to Watson who grimaced at Sherlock's use of his fiancée's name. He had in seconds implied that if Mary was not in the equation then they too, would be 'close'. Watson knew it was true but still denied such accusations.

"Mary, Has nothing to do with it"

"To do with what?"

"Us"

"So you agree, Watson, That there is indeed an 'us'"

"Drop it" was all Watson could say but the smile on Sherlock's face, a real one, at his slight admittance to past events, melted his heart. Although he liked seeing his friend smile he mentally kicked himself for giving Holmes something to cling to. He decided to read another one of the cases.

"So that one is out of the question, How about this one." Sherlock looked on uninterested playing with a letter opener in his hands.

"Lord and Lady Sandford are complaining of paranormal activity within their house in the form of a feeling of being watched, footsteps heard during quiet moments and during their investigation on their attic space a figure was seen momentarily before it disappeared."

Sherlock thought for a moment, Watson could see the cogs turning in his head, although to him cogs wasn't the correct term, it was much faster than that. Calculating possibilities, personalities and probabilities. But it was slower this time. Usually he had answered back with the answer but he could see confusion in Sherlock's eyes.

"Shall we?" Watson spoke, it seemed as if his plan may have worked. Sherlock merely stood up and grabbed his coat and headed for the door knowing Watson would soon be behind him but before he left he stopped and turned around to look at john barely a foot away from him. Watson had thought for a moment that Sherlock may have figured it out until a light peck was placed on his lips. Watson instantly threw a punch at Holmes who tapped it out of the way after expecting the response. He could see the anger at his actions in john's eyes and he lightly smiled.

"I'm doing this case but I didn't teach you well if you thought that would occupy me."

With that he turned and left, Watson soon behind him glaring at the back of his head.

They got to the Sandford home in no time with the car and walked up to large house from where they had parked. It wasn't an old house, but very beautiful and clean cut. They were soon let into the building where lady sandford offered them tea while she explained the goings on. They sat like this listening to lady until Sherlock had heard enough and asked for access to the attic. She left them to their work and as they came to the top of the stairs Sherlock spotted dust on the floor. Looking up he saw the attic.

"What are you thinking?" Watson asked

"I'm thinking that a house of this stature had satisfactory staff to have this place spotless"

Watson looked confused and then noticed the dust Sherlock pointed at.

Holmes scoured the area more while Watson reached for the latch to the attic. The ladders unfolded and Watson gestured to Holmes.

"Shall we?"

Holmes complied and entered the attic. He couldn't see a thing as his eyes were adjusting but heard Watson enter the attic behind him. He heard a slight buzzing noise.

"Watson?"

"Yes?"

"Turn on the light"

"There is no ligh…oh"

Light came to the room and a clunk was heard from behind a few pieces of furniture and boxes. Sherlock rushed to the area and pulled forward the boxes to reveal nothing but a very dusty chair. Watson inspected the room before landing his eyes on Holmes whose mind was at full working power again. He watched him sit on the chair and dust rise and watched his eyes follow the dust as it was slowly and subtly sucked into the floorboard. Sherlock stood and moved the chair and lightly bounced on the floorboards. John loved how he noticed the finest little detail is was so intriguing to watch. He would miss being able to watch such masterful detective work. He looked away as he felt a small ache in his chest but his eyes were soon brought back to Sherlock when a loud crack and Sherlock's yell filled the room. He ran to the area to see a gaping hole in the floor a ladder leading to the bottom where Sherlock sprawled.

"Holmes?" John although certain Holmes could handle this kind of accident still worried slightly. His worry was satisfied as he heard a groan of 'ouch' coming from the heap of limbs at the bottom.

Watson laughed.

"Need a hand?"

"Yeah, just erm.." He started untangling himself as he replied "word of advice come down the ladder"

John smiled and made his way down to the now stood Holmes.

The passage down was very narrow and there was only one way from the bottom and it was also narrow to the point of the two men walking sideways to fit through. They took a corner and noticed a small light protruding into the darkness and music could be heard. Watson gestured for Holmes to look through where the light came and sure enough he could see Lady Sandford stood over her daughter, as she played piano. The view from the hole was of the whole room and in such a place for no one to notice it.

"Is this some kinds of tunnel in and out the house" Watson wondered

"It seems someone is living in the walls of this house" He moved over for Watson to take a look. A noise to the men's right took Watson out of his inspection and both rushed to follow the sound. As they got nearer they saw this 'ghost' wasn't exactly true. It was a skinny male of what they could see. His clothes torn and filthy. Every time they neared the man he simply pulled a trick from under his sleeve. He was obviously on winning terrain for him. Holmes followed him as he hit a left and gestured Watson to carry on in a forward direction. Sherlock managed to grab the boy's arm but was yanked away. He dove again for a last attempt and had his ankle hitting his face on the floor due to the small space. The boy tripped slightly but merely pulled his ankle from Sherlock's grip. Working in small places wasn't ideal for Holmes. As he stood and made his way to the boy again they rounded another right and Sherlock saw the boy seemed to be heading to a dead end. He knew that this dead end must be an escape route if the boy planned to use it. But before the boy had chance Watson had come from the right and pushed the boy into the wall pinning his arm behind his back. Sherlock gestured for Watson to follow him with the boy and he indeed found the escape route door and they exited into a small section of the large back garden.

After an hour of explaining what had happened to Mrs Sandford they finally took their leave much to Sherlock's relief. There was nothing more frustrating than a woman's ramblings. Watson spoke.

"I don't understand how she would just forget about a son that went missing"

Watson's voice still in disbelief "How could you just forget. And why on earth was he hiding in the walls of the house?!"

Sherlock muttered while touching his face gently with a handkerchief.

"Its not hard to understand really Watson the boy was scared it wasn't actually his family"

Watson looked on is disbelief "If this is easy to understand to you…" he stepped in front of Sherlock and held his chin to look where Sherlock was wiping and continued.

"…I sincerely hope you don't have children."

Watson inspected a cut on Sherlock's cheekbone no doubt from chasing the boy in the walls. Unknowingly he stroked his finger just below the cut.

"Ill close it to lessen the scar when we get back" he mumbled as his hand still held Sherlock's chin and his finger still brushed the sensitive cut. John's eyes then met with Sherlock's. Soft, brown, hopeful eyes yet still a sense of warning. He had to admit there was something so fascinating about Holmes and it didn't matter how much he knew him a surprise was always there waiting. Sherlock just watched johns stare as it moved around his face. His body frozen by the touch he received. His face then went cold as john removed his hand and continued walking.

"Well. That case didn't last long. And you ruled out any others on the way here. I have time to spare for this afternoon before I see my patients. Think ill move some more of my stuff from my old room"

Watson didn't expect a reply he just spoke to break the tension he felt after staring admittedly too long at Holmes.

They arrived back at Sherlock's baker street home and Sherlock went into the parlour as Watson began dragging chests and boxes out he had left in the room. Unsure as to what was in all these he began to root. Throwing away any stuff he no longer needed. He opened one of his chests and inside was three neat rows of equally sized notebooks. He remembered instantly what they were. And picked out the first book on the first row. He opened it on the front page and on the back of the cover read a message in rough writing.

Dear Watson,

You seem to struggle keeping up, maybe if you take notes?

SH

Watson smiled to himself as he remembered having the book handed to him. Sherlock was hard to keep up with but john always managed but the minute he guessed something wrong. Holmes was always the first to pull out a joke of him being slow. The book was an insulting birthday present. Although admittedly he did find it easier to keep up with the notebook at first but after a while he just began writing them down just as journals. He had a library of adventures with Sherlock Holmes. He flicked through more pages and began reading odd memoirs, before long he was flicking through different books. Laughing to himself at random entries stating Sherlock's total lack of respect for anything other than himself and his disregard of the mess in his parlour. As he got further on he noticed these entries became less and less and before long turned into ones of admiration as to how amazing his mind was and how fascinating it was to watch him work. Watson smiled to himself. He still was in awe of the man he considered his partner. He was glad he had so many fascinating memories thanks to the man he is now leaving behind.

"I miss you" Watson looked up to find Sherlock stood against the doorframe and knew what his meaning was. He missed him being in the house and always having his back and lecturing him about the state the house was in. Sherlock continued.

"We wont have times like them after you're married" Sherlock's voice broke at the end and his eyes were cast down on the floor where his foot played with the corner of the rug. Watson felt a surge of feelings towards the man in front of him. An over whelming need to protect and comfort him. He knew throughout the years that they had gained a trust, a special connection. He knew Sherlock had gone one step further and allowed his heart to over ride his mind and he knew he had followed Sherlock in this as he had followed him so many times before. He walked over to Holmes who straightened as his friend moved towards him. Before he could react Watson embraced Holmes. Unsure where the affection was coming from but feeling comforted none the less he held Watson back. He felt Watson's nose on his neck as the taller male cuddled him impossibly closer. He felt a slight touch on throat and his breath quickened in realisation that it was lips. Watson moved back, his hands at Sherlock's hips and held his forehead to Sherlock's, both their eyes closed. Watson felt the need to take away all the pain he had caused his companion. His face contorted in annoyance, as he couldn't find the right words.

"I'm sorry" He mumbled

Sherlock heard the words and felt Watson's own confusion in his feeling. His hand rested on Watson's back in a comforting motion of 'its ok'.

"I really am" Watson continued before pulling Holmes by the neck to his lips. Holmes almost fell into Watson at the surprise but Watson's free arm only pulled him closer. Holmes could do nothing but react. His lips moved in synchronisation with his friends and his hands found the short hair and clung as Watson broke him to pieces. John only saw Sherlock. He felt the heat of their bodies together; he felt the passion in Sherlock's kiss. His mind wandered to Mary but it wasn't enough to make him care. This is what he needed right now. He pulled his partners head back with his hair and kissed along his jaw and down his throat. Holmes felt his body temperature rise with the forceful movement and as Watson bit down on his neck he didn't think twice about the moan that left his lips. The sound made every bone in Watson's body ache and he pulled Sherlock away from the door and to the desk at the other side of the room, pushing him roughly against it he was forced to sit down on its top. Watson pulled open the shirt in front of him not regarding the buttons, which now scattered the floor, he pulled it off the smaller males shoulders and disposed of it before taking his mouth to Sherlock's neck again. The bites were harsher this time, there was no mercy. The mixture of pain and pleasure, kisses on now sensitive skin made his head swim. He pulled Watson's waist closer, an attempt to feel friction not unnoticed by Watson he picked Sherlock up around his waist, lips meeting in a forceful kiss, before laying him on the bed. Now between Sherlock's legs he nipped at his collarbone and his hips met the others. Sherlock's head fell back as he moaned again. Watson continued the action as Sherlock pulled at his shirt opening the buttons. As he kissed Watson again his hands slid over the taller males toned body and as Watson once again ground their hips, Sherlock's nails scraped into the soft skin of his torso. John growled into the kiss as a response and nipped at Sherlock's lower lip before leaving again to kiss his way down Sherlock's body, his hands working on the clothes still adorning the bottom half of his body. He removed the clothes and before straightening up to remove his own licked a long, slow line up the member in front of him earning a gasp from Sherlock. He quickly took the rest of his shirt off and removed his pants slowly, knowing what effect it was having of the man below him. Once removed Sherlock put his hands forward and stroked down Watson's torso who took his hands and held them on either side of his head on the pillow. He leant down and kissed Holmes. The kiss was more gentle than before but just as sweet to Sherlock. As he enjoyed the kiss he felt Watson at his entrance and didn't want to wait any longer. He tried to force the kiss so Watson knew what he was waiting for but john only teased. The older male whined quietly as john withheld him from what he needed and Watson laughed slightly at the thought of the great Sherlock Holmes whimpering underneath him. He pecked Sherlock before giving his mentor what he wanted. Sherlock hissed slightly at the pain but soon traded it for moans as he felt Watson moving inside him. His body rocked in rhythm to the man above him and his breath quickened as the pleasure grew. Watson's stomach coiled at the tight sensation around him and his body moved faster. With the movements quickening, Sherlock was merely a moaning mess underneath the man he desired so much and as he looked toward said man, those lidded blue eyes were piercing his own. Pleasure spread across Sherlock's body, emanating from Watson. He rode out his orgasm, his moans echoing in the almost empty room. Watson kissed him to hide his own moans to no success as he joined Holmes in ecstasy. The two men's pants were the only noise that filled the room and they soon parted and got into the bed as they had done last time. Sherlock kept silent as he sat up staring at the opposite wall, unsure on what John's reaction would be. John although he had remembered Mary still didn't care. He turned to look at Holmes who looked blankly back at him. Watson smiled and patted his companion on the back.

"Good show old boy" He laughed and Sherlock stared on in disbelief.