'Ooh-ooh!'

John switched the television off and turned his head to look at Ms Hudson standing in the door-frame. 'Hello.'

'Hello, dear. I've got some food for you two for your dinner.' She said, resting the two shopping bags on the long white table in the kitchen.

John nodded his thanks to her. 'I owe you twenty pounds.'

'I'll put it on your rent. Where's Sherlock?'

John frowned slightly. 'I thought he was downstairs with you.'

Ms Hudson shook her head. 'I haven't seen him all day, love.'

John paused, and then nodded. 'Thank you.'

She grinned and pootled off downstairs, leaving John bemused. He looked up at the door, noting the coat-hanger was missing Sherlocks coat and scarf. He grabbed his own coat off of the hanger and jogged downstairs, closing the door behind him.

The night sky washed over John as he walked across Baker Street, silently scanning the area for the six-foot-something consulting detective. After walking aimlessly up and down the street, he went off to the park. There was no one around, just the cold night air and the hoot of an owl for company. Walking slowly through the neat rows of trees and wilted-looking flowers, John kept his eyes on his feet, thinking of nothing in particular.

A distant pair of feet came into view.

John looked up slowly from his thoughts to see a tall man with curly black hair wearing a long black coat a little way in front of him. He had his back to him, head tilted up at the sky.

John sprinted up next to him. 'There you are.'

Sherlock didn't look at him. 'I've noticed.'

John sighed. 'I've been looking for you.'

'How nice.'

'What are you doing here anyway?'

Sherlock nodded up at the sky. John looked up with him. 'You don't see the stars very often in London.' Sherlock explained, 'so I thought I might as well...'

Above them, was a night sky filled with stars. Large, diamond-like and beautiful, it was no wander why Sherlock was slightly dazed by them.

John smiled at them. 'I thought you didn't like stars.'

'Just because you didn't like something, it doesn't mean you can't enjoy it.'

John frowned. 'But you can't enjoy something you don't like...'

'Shush.'

The doctor laughed and looked up at the stars again. He felt Sherlock looking at him.

'Why were you looking for me?' The detective asked.

'Well, Ms Hudson hadn't seen you around and neither had I.'

'Is that it?' Sherlock said, sounding disappointed.

John looked at him. 'Did there need to be a particular reason?'

'No.'

'Well then.'

They both stood in silence for a while, before John said quietly, 'well, there was a reason actually.'

'Hm?'

'...Sarah and I are engaged.'

Sherlocks eyes saddened. His head drooped slightly. 'Oh.'

'Mm.'

'You asked her to marry you?'

'No, she asked me.'

Sherlocks head snapped up to look up at him. 'What!'

'What what?'

'She asked you?'

'Yes.'

'But she's a woman.'

'...Well deduced, Sherlock.'

The detective shook his head. 'But don't the men always ask the women?'

'Not always.'

'But that's not right.'

'God, what year are you from? 1881?'

Sherlock smirked. 'Sometimes I feel like I should be.' He swallowed, 'Does this mean you'll be moving out?'

'Not soon.'

'Ah.' He responded quietly.

Johns heart sank when he saw Sherlocks expression. His left hand started shaking. It hardly ever did anymore, since his post-traumatic stress disorder was progressively being cured by being around Sherlock. The thought of being without him made him uneasy.

Sherlock looked at the doctors shaking hand, and then at him. 'Are you alright?'

'...Yup.'

Sherlock bit his lip, and clutched Johns hand gently. The doctor looked at him.

'Sherlock...'

Sherlock stayed silent, fingers entwined with the man's next to him. He stared at him before almost whispering, 'don't go, John.'

John's mouth hung open slightly, before he leaned against his shoulder. 'You think I want to?'

The detective found himself smiling.