Well, I wanted to call this "Stop it MLC - you're playing with my head again!" but honestly? I can't say I'm unhappy that she does this...
He knew, that first night, that he had found something rarer that the Red Beryl Emerald and twice as precious. He had found a true friend.
Within months John Watson became more than a best friend, he became the one thing that Sherlock had never expected to have. A lover.
The time in between cases and experiments was no longer boring and inconsequential, because between them they found new ways to express their love.
And spending time in bed was no longer a waste, because Sherlock had discovered that he loved nothing more than to be wrapped in his doctor's arms as they drifted on a haze of endorphins.
John on the other hand, had realised that this strange and beautiful creature was the one for him on that very first night. He knew it was just a matter of time before Sherlock realised it too.
That their coming together as a couple after a long and dangerous case didn't surprise him in the least, it was all part of the make up of the man.
There was however just one thing.
He was overcome with a sense of pride when he heard Sherlock tell his brother that John was one of a kind, rare and precious. What he didn't quite understand though, was why he kept calling him Red Beryl...