Someone to Watch Over Me

prompt from thessbakerstreet: What about Victor trying to cheer Sherlock up when he's in one of his black moods?

(aspects of this Victor have been shamelessly borrowed from Impish Tubist's Victor because I love him & her. I hope she doesn't mind!)

Victor returned from assignment, eager to spend time with Sherlock. He'd been gone longer than he liked, usually his jobs took no longer than a month but this one had been slightly more complicated and he was gone for six long weeks. He'd complained to Mycroft and was assured he'd be home for the next three months without interruption. He told Mycroft he'd holm him to that promise.

When Victor arrived at Baker Street after dumping his belongings at his flat and having a quick shower he was met in the front hall by Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh Victor! Thank goodness your back! He's been impossible lately. Violin at all hours. Snapping at everyone who visits, even Mary and the baby! I know he's not eating and he doesn't look like he's sleeping." She kept throwing glances over her shoulder up the stairs and wringing her hands in despair.

Victor leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'm home now, Mrs. Hudson. I'll take care of him. Promise."

She smiled tremulously up at him and laid her hand against his cheek. "I know you will, Victor. He's so lucky to have you. You're both so lucky to have found each other again after all these years."

He cringed internally, but she didn't know the history there. The break ups and the make ups and the drugs (on Sherlock's part) and the long assignments (that was Victor). It had finally ended with Sherlock going to rehab and Victor going away to coordinate homeland security with the Americans for years. But that was the past. They were together and again and they loved each other. If Sherlock was in a black mood, it was Victor's job to reach down and pull him up.

Mrs. Hudson patted his cheek before turning and walking into her flat. Victor turned to look up towards Sherlock's flat and braced himself before bounding up the stairs.

He burst into the flat, grimacing at the amount of dust motes floating through the air, catching the small sliver of sunlight that peeped throughout the narrow gap in the curtains. Obviously Sherlock had been behaving badly enough to keep Mrs. Hudson from her 'not-your-housekeeper' duties.

Victor walked over to the windows, ignoring the lump of consulting detective on the couch in favor of pulling back the drapes and throwing up the windows.

"Up you get, William! It's a beautiful day and I'm home for the foreseeable future. Let's go get brunch or take a walk in the park. What do you say?"

Sherlock mumbled into his pillow and rolled over to face the wall. Victor took the opportunity to observe the other man, currently curled into the fetal position on the sofa. He'd been wearing those pajamas for at least three days, and hadn't showered in as long.

Victor bent over the desk and plucked Sherlock's iPod from its dock. He scrolled through the menu, finding and selecting the playlist simply titled, Victor. He put the iPod back in the dock and pressed play.

The sounds of jazz filled the apartment, Ella Fitzgerald's warm voice coming out the speakers.

Victor walked over to the sofa and leaned over, resting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Come on, Will. Dance with me."

Sherlock rolled onto his back but kept his eyes closed. "Don't wanna."

"I know, but I haven't seen you in ages and I need to feel you in my arms, alright? So come on." Sherlock sighed dramatically but placed his hand in Victor's and allowed the other man to haul him off the sofa.

"That was dirty pool, Vic. You know I can't resist you when you say things like that." Sherlock stepped into Victor's arms and they naturally began to move to the rhythm of the song.

"I know, Will. But it's true. I've missed you." Victor pulled him closer until they were flush against each other and Sherlock melted against him, their mouths meeting in a passionate embrace. When they broke apart Sherlock slid his hand up Victor's arm and wrapped both his arms around Victor's shoulders, resting his forehead where Victor's neck and shoulder meet.

Sweet dreams til sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all your worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me

The two men swayed around the sitting room, shuffling their feet and keeping their bodies close together. The iPod shuffled through the playlist.

Another song wafted out the speakers. They kept dancing.

Victor rested his temple against Sherlock's dirty curls, ignoring the grime, happy to have the man he loved back in his embrace.

He murmured into Sherlock's tousled hair, "you added to my playlist?"

Sherlock whispered against his skin, "I missed you terribly."

"As did I, Will, as did I."

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed

Follow my lead, oh, how I need

Someone to watch over me

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed

Follow my lead, oh, how I need

Someone to watch over me

Someone to watch over me

"You know I'll always watch over you, don't you, William?"

Sherlock lifted his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I do know, my love. But neither of us has a safe job, any moment together might be our last."

"Oh Will." Victor crushed his lips to Sherlock's, his tongue licking his way into the other man's mouth, ignoring the taste of too many cigarettes and coffee, savoring the way Sherlock's kiss always tasted like home to him.

"Even then, I'll still watch out for you. Not even death could keep me from looking after you."

Sherlock smiled and rolled his eyes, "Ever the romantic, Victor. I do love you so."

Victor grinned, happy to see he'd pulled Sherlock from his black mood once more.

The iPod switched songs once more, but the song that began playing was not one Victor would have ever expected to hear in Sherlock Holme's presence.

He turned and stared at the iPod. In his arms, Sherlock shook with laughter.

"Will… What on earth?!" He turned to look at his love. "Where did you even hear this song?"

When I look in the spot, this is what I see

Everybody stops and they staring at me

I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it

I'm sexy and I know it

I'm sexy and I know it

Sherlock's beautiful laugh rumbled up from his chest. "Oh God, Victor, the look on your face. I wish I caught it on camera so I could show Lestrade."

"Very funny William. Seriously, where did you get exposed to LMFAO? And why would you put it on my playlist? You hate this kind of music!" Victor stood in the center of the floor as Sherlock walked over to the iPod and stopped the song, still chuckling.

"I heard it at a coffee shop and the lyrics made me think of you. So I downloaded it when I came home and added it to your playlist."

"You thought of me when you heard that?" Victor shook his head, puzzled. He'd heard the song before, it was all over American radio but it wasn't exactly something he'd choose to listen to, he couldn't understand how this song drew Sherlock's thoughts to him."

Sherlock walked over, shedding his dressing gown and pulling his dirty t-shirt over his head, obviously heading for the shower and he brushed his hand along Victor's face.

"Well, you are sexy and you do know it."

Victor was speechless.

Sherlock chucked his chin. "After I shower, you're taking me out to brunch."

He took off his pajama trousers in the hallway and threw a saucy look over his shoulder at Victor. "Or you could join me in the shower and then we could go eat?"

Victor scrambled to take off his clothes as he followed his laughing lover into the bathroom.