A/N: Elementary is not my usual fandom, but I just got caught up on the new season and I'm HOOKED, so I created this new ff account to share my Elementary ramblings with you all :) this is my first fic for this show and these characters (new to Elementary, not new to ff), so I'd really appreciate any comments in reviews! I'm planning on this being a one-shot so I'm marking it complete, but if inspiration strikes I may add to it. Hopefully this is the first of many Elementary fics to come. Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

The morning after Kelsey's departure, Joan came downstairs to find Sherlock at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. As she prepared a bowl of cereal for herself, he gave her a distracted "good morning Watson."

Joan sat down across the table from him and studied him for a minute. Ever since Kelsey had told her what Sherlock had said about her, Joan hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. Part of her was afraid to ask what else he had said, but she had to know.

Sherlock was aware of Joan's eyes on him, but he tried his best to ignore it and kept reading the paper. Given the heaviness of her steps this morning and the quickness of her breath he could tell she was agitated, and when she was in moods like this, Sherlock always worried he would say the wrong thing and make it worse. He had no desire to provoke or anger her, so he said nothing.

Finally, Joan summoned the courage to start the conversation. With a deep breath, she said "Kelsey said you talked to her about me."

Sherlock's eyes froze on the paper and his grip on it increased, but he didn't look up or acknowledge her in any other way. He wondered how much Kelsey had told Watson, and he feared what her reaction would be. All he said was, "I did."

Joan knew he was waiting to see how much she knew. Judging by his reaction, she had the feeling that Sherlock had said more than Kelsey told her. She hoped she could get him to tell her the rest of the conversation. If she just simply asked him what they had talked about, he would probably just prevaricate and change the subject. Instead, all Joan said was, "Kelsey said you told her I could do anything."

Sherlock nodded slowly, still not meeting her gaze. Quietly, he said "I spoke only the truth, Watson."

Joan smiled, her cheeks reddening a bit. "Thanks," she said just as quietly. Joan looked at him for a long moment, attempting to get him to look back at her, but his eyes remained studiously attached to the newspaper. When it became obvious that Sherlock would not elaborate, Joan gave up on dancing around the subject. She sighed and asked him, "Was that all you said?"

Sherlock wanted to say yes and end the conversation there, but something stopped him. Despite his hopes to keep part of his conversation with Kelsey private, Sherlock found himself unable to lie to her. She deserved to know what he had offered to Kelsey, though he worried she would not be pleased. Haltingly, he admitted, "I also told her that I could... Step aside. If need be." Finally Sherlock put down his newspaper and returned Joan's gaze. When their eyes met, his gaze was a mix of regret and intensity. "I do not want to be the only thing standing between you and the thing you desire and deserve, Watson." He tried to keep his voice from shaking, but the intensity behind his words made it quiver despite his best efforts.

Joan's mouth fell open. "I told you that wasn't what I wanted," she said, her wavering voice betraying her surprise and confusion.

With a sigh, Sherlock repeated the sentiment he had shared with Kelsey. "Sometimes what we want and what we need are not always the same." Sherlock found he was unable to hold her gaze, and his eyes dropped to the table.

Anger and indignation flashed through Joan. "You don't get to decide what I need," she said, annoyed. Joan got up and walked around the table so she was standing in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I thought I made it clear that our arrangement was the most important thing to me, and if I can't adopt without ruining it, I won't adopt. You shouldn't go behind my back like that!"

This was exactly the reaction Sherlock had feared, and he now regretted having told Joan what he said.

Sherlock stood up as well, facing her. "I was only trying to help you, Watson," he said, hoping he sounded at least a little apologetic.

Joan deflated some, but the fire remained in her eyes. "I don't need your help, Sherlock. This is my decision, and I get to decide what I want and what I need. You don't."

Sherlock nodded, his eyes downcast. "I know." Joan was surprised he had capitulated so quickly, she was used to their verbal sparring.

Sherlock looked to the floor, avoiding eye contact again. "But I can tell how much you want this. I... I want you to be happy, Watson. And, above all, I do not want to stand in the way of your happiness. But we both know it will be almost impossible for you to adopt while living with me." Sherlock sighed before continuing, "I was an obstacle to your happiness, so I offered to remove myself from the equation."

Joan shook her head in frustration. "And what if I don't want you removed from the equation?" Joan asked. "What if removing you from the equation is not what will make me happy? Did you even think of giving me a say in this?"

Sherlock looked back at Joan, and in her eyes he saw desperation. He didn't understand. He knew she valued their partnership, but he had assumed she simply did not want to be the one who chose to end it, no matter how much she wanted a child. Therefore, he thought it would be best if he removed himself instead. Joan could get the child she so clearly wanted, without having to end their living situation herself. Sherlock thought removing himself was a good solution, he thought he was helping. But Joan seemed to think otherwise.

"Watson, I think we both know where this is headed," Sherlock said hesitantly. "It is exceedingly likely that at some point you will have to choose between continuing our living situation and adopting a child. I merely sought to preemptively solve that problem by removing myself."

"By making my choice for me, you mean," Joan huffed.

"Perhaps," Sherlock shrugged. Quietly, he added, "I hoped to spare you a difficult decision."

Joan groaned, resisting rolling her eyes at his obtuseness. "You really don't get it do you?" When Sherlock said nothing, Joan continued, "this is MY choice. I know you think you were helping, but you weren't. I already decided that our partnership and our living situation is more important to me. I decided that we would stay together, even if it means I can't adopt. That was MY decision, and you had no right to interfere like that."

They stood there staring at each other, and Sherlock was silent for a long time. Eventually, he asked the question that had been bothering him since Joan had told him of her intention to continue living in the Brownstone. He whispered, "but why, Watson?"

Joan was incensed. "Why?! You don't get to interfere beause it's my life! It's my decision, and you -"

Sherlock cut her off with a waive of his hand and a shake of his head. "No, I didn't mean that. I meant..." he sighed, locking his gaze on hers, "why is our living situation more important to you than adoption?"

That silenced her. Joan's mouth fell open. She hadn't expected that question at all. In fact, she hadn't expected Sherlock to care. She was tempted to tell him it was none of his business and that it was just her decision, but that wouldn't be fair to him.

Amillion possible answers flew through her head, all of them only half-truths. How could she explain it? Was it because she knew he needed her here? Was it because some part of her needed to be here too? The truth was, she could live elsewhere and still work with him. It wouldn't end their partnership. But she knew instinctively that living separately was not at all what she wanted. She wanted to be here, under the same roof as him. She wanted to wake up every morning to Sherlock throwing clothes at her, already prepared for a case. She wanted to wake up to messages strapped to Clyde in her bed. She wanted to stay up late solving cases with him every night, passing out on the sofa after a long case only to wake up and find he'd covered her with a blanket. She wanted to come downstairs to find he'd made her coffee or found something interesting in the newspaper that he knew she'd like. She wasn't ready to give any of that up. She wanted all of that.

No, she needed all of that, and more.

Joan took a few steps closer to Sherlock, until she could tell that her closeness was affecting him. "Because, Sherlock..." She stared at him, hoping he could see the answer in her eyes. They'd so often communicated without words, and she tried to put a million words or more into that look, hoping he would understand all the things she didn't know how to say. "Because... it's us. It's you. We're Holmes and Watson. I don't know. It works. And I... I don't want to lose this."

Joan was so close that Sherlock had to look down to see her. He was painfully aware of how her closeness and her soft, pleading voice made his heart beat faster. Resisting his reflex to take a step backward, Sherlock stayed where he was and hoped she couldn't hear how his heart was racing. "But isn't a child what you want?" He asked. Joan nodded, her eyes still pleading with him, begging him understand her. He continued, "Then... why do you want to stay here?"

"Because..." Joan murmured softly, "because maybe you were right. Maybe what I want and what I need are not the same," she said, throwing his words back at him. Taking a deep breath, she laid a light hand on his chest. His heart skipped a beat before racing on. "Yes, I want a child." She took a deep breath before saying the one thing she was most afraid to admit: "but I need you."

Somehow, before either of them knew what was happening, Sherlock found Joan in his arms and Joan found herself kissing him. His arms were a comfort around her waste, and her hands were a steadying presence around his neck. They momentarily lost themselves in each other, both of them finally realizing just how much they needed each other. Later, neither would be able to recall who had initiated the kiss, only that it had happened and neither of them had been prepared for it, but neither regretted it.

When they finally pulled apart, Sherlock whispered into Joan's ear, "I need you, too."

At that moment, Joan knew that whatever happened down the road with the adoption, she would never leave him now. Maybe the adoption would work out, maybe it wouldn't. Even if it didn't, Joan realized that she no longer felt like only part of a whole. The missing piece of her that she wanted to fill with a child was suddenly filled.

Finally, she could admit to herself that all she really needed was him.

Thanks so much for reading! Please drop a comment if you can, I really appreciate them! Hopefully I'll get another fic up soon :)