"You know that even on top of the building your flat is in, you're only going to see satellites if you're looking at the sky from anywhere in London, right?" Sherlock sat next to Greg, looking up to the empty black sky Greg had been staring at.
Greg gave a sigh, leaning back on the roof, letting his arm pull Sherlock in close when he followed his lead. "That's not the point. When I look up at the sky above London, I don't see just this empty black space, I see more than that. The stars are still out there, surrounding us for hundreds of billions of miles. We've got them satellite thingies, they can take pictures of it. I've seen pictures of it. Makes you feel small, insignificant. You should try that one on for size."
Sherlock gave a small huff of laughter as he turned toward Greg, moving closer to cuddle the older man. "Pictures are just images. Nothing like the real thing. Besides, I know I'm insignificant to the universe. I'm just important on a one on one basis."
Greg's soft laughter joined his, and slightly chapped lips pressed against the shock of dark hair on top of the head resting on the DI's shoulder. "Pictures are as close as I'll ever get. I'm too old to go up to one of those satellites. They send young people up there, people like you." There was an inkling of longing in Greg's voice as he spoke, voice growing softer until it ended in a sigh.
Slowly, Sherlock turned his face up to Greg's, lips lightly brushing against his. "I do have a brother who can get me anywhere. I could bring you back a picture of my own. It would count, then, if it was taken for you, just for you." his lips trailed down to press against Greg's neck, a soft but persistent presence.
"Nah, you don't need to do that for me, this is more than enough. It'd take you too long to get trained, not to mention I'd have no one to fall asleep on the roof with if you go to outer space. I'd much rather lie here with you than see a picture of some silly old stars." Greg's arms tightened around his boyfriend, holding him very close. "It was the truth, you know, you are very important on a one on one basis. You risk yourself enough here where I'm just a phone call away. I don't think I could stand knowing you couldn't get back here even if I needed you to. Or knowing something could happen to you that I couldn't stop."
Sherlock stopped breathing for a moment as he listened, touched deeply by all Greg had said. "You're sweet to worry about me."
"Yeah, well, after about the 5th time someone tries to kill you, it's hard not to."
"Eh, whatever."
They both fell silent, entwined with each other, watching the satellites as the hours passed, eventually leading drifting off to sleep as the dark sky continued it's progression to morning.