The next morning, Greg was sitting on the sofa amidst his blankets having a coffee, when he was startled out of a deep reverie by a soft baritone, 'You're doing that thing again.'

'Thinking?'

'Thinking very loudly.'

'He was programmed, Sherlock.'

'Of course. And?'

'He was programmed to Not Be Gay. Mycroft didn't want you getting too involved. Didn't want you getting hurt.'

Sherlock laughed bitterly, 'And what makes you think that a sexual relationship is the only relationship in which someone can get emotionally damaged… Greg?'

Greg looked up and smiled. It was the first time Sherlock had ever used his first name.

But the detective was looking thoughtful, 'He was programmed to protect me. That's all it was, when he shot the cabbie. His programming kicked in.'

Greg looked at him for a long time, then ventured, 'You fell for him anyway, didn't you?'

Sherlock stared at him, then sighed and said, 'How could I not? Mycroft has observed every relationship I ever had, he knows exactly what I like, physically, mentally… John was designed for me, Greg. Even if he did refuse to sleep with me, because of his programming, everything else about him was… perfect. How could I resist? I didn't even know I was supposed to resist, didn't know what he was. A thing. A machine.'

Greg huffed, 'And fully combat tested in Afghanistan before they let you have him. I guess Mycroft thought that was necessary, given your lifestyle….'

Sherlock sat down and put his head in his hands, and Greg said, 'What?'

'The worst thing about this, is… no matter how much I tell myself this is just another one of Mycroft's cruel jokes…. no matter that I know what John is… I miss him, Greg! I actually miss him. I'd grown accustomed to his… face!'

Greg smiled, wondering if Sherlock knew he was quoting Professor Higgins.

Sherlock glanced up and snapped at him, 'I don't care if you think that's funny, it's the truth!'

'I don't think it's funny, I'm going to miss him too,' protested Greg, and realised, yes, he was going to miss John. For as robots went, John was pretty much better than most of the real people Greg Lestrade had met. Especially in the job he did.

Sherlock sighed, 'But he won't come back.'

A quiet voice at the door said, 'What makes you say that?'

'John!' exclaimed Sherlock, a huge grin plastering itself across his face. In four strides he was across the room and grabbed John by the shoulders, spun him around, and stared at him, 'How did you get away from Mycroft?' Then another thought struck him, 'Why did you get away from Mycroft?'

'Ah… that's a long story. Sherlock, Greg… I need your help.'

'Oh?' asked Sherlock, his demeanour suddenly becoming more subdued as he looked at John.

'Know any really smart lawyers?' John asked Sherlock.

Sherlock tilted his head, and asked, 'Not really, but why… why are you back here? If all you want is legal advice….?' He was beginning to look disappointed. He let his arms slide slowly off John's shoulders.

'No. No, that's not all I want, Sherlock,' said John softly, and took Sherlock's arms back in his, 'If that's all I wanted, I'd be in Fleet Street right now, looking for law firms, not in Baker Street.'

Greg Lestrade was smiling. He wasn't quite sure why, but something about seeing the two of them back together seemed so right.

'You want legal status,' realized Sherlock.

'Ever seen a movie called Bicentennial Man?' asked John, 'I watched it last night, and it clarified a whole lot of things for me.'

'I haven't seen it,' said Sherlock, and looked to Greg who shook his head.

'It's about a highly advanced robot,' said John quietly, '…who has to fight for the legal status of being human, before he can act on how he feels.'

Sherlock stared at John for a long time, 'You'd be the world's only robot, who is a legal person. You'd be unique.'

'I already am unique, Sherlock. I'm the assistant to the world's only consulting detective.'

Sherlock stood looking at him, absorbing the words, 'You just used the present tense.'

'Damned right I did. Do you want the future tense as well? I'd like to keep doing… this, what we do, for as long as you'll let me.'

Sherlock released John, and strode over to his laptop. Greg Lestrade smiled, for he had noticed that although Sherlock's emotions might not show in his words or his face, they certainly showed in his body language. When John had reappeared, Sherlock had bounced across the room and been striding everywhere since. It was a far cry from the discouraged shuffle with which Sherlock had emerged from his bedroom only minutes before John's return.

'Up for some hacking of Mycroft's files on you, John?' Sherlock smiled at John, then looked at Greg.

'I'll make the coffee,' smiled Greg, and John walked over to lean over Sherlock's shoulder.

'What should we tackle first?' asked Sherlock, and Greg saw John lean down and whisper something in Sherlock's ear. Sherlock's grin broadened, and he said, 'Alright.'