Sherlock's PoV:

Stupid! Sherlock couldn't believe how stupid he was! That was the first time that a body had ever been too much for him. Too much gore. Too horrible to look at. Lestrade was counting on him, and Sherlock had let him down.

The door to the flat opened and John appeared on the doorstep. "Sherlock, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"The body," Sherlock murmured. John took a step closer to him and Sherlock felt himself wishing John was even closer. Wait, what did he just think? "I couldn't handle it. It was too awful." He couldn't even look at John, he was so ashamed.

"Sherlock, that's completely understandable," John said. "Even I had trouble being in there, and I've seen some horrible things in Afghanistan." John wrapped an arm around him and something stirred in Sherlock's heart.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

No, Sherlock was not falling in love with John Watson! He was married to his work. His work. That was it. He couldn't let John distract him from his work.

The door opened and Lestrade stood in the doorway. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, Lestrade," John said, "I think we just need a moment alone."

Lestrade seemed to just notice John's arm around Sherlock. "Oh," he agreed. "Right. Take your time." He closed the apartment door behind him.

Sherlock looked down at his blogger. "John, I..." He swallowed. What was wrong with him?

John was smiling up at him. "Sherlock, there's nothing wrong with you," he said, surprising Sherlock for the first time. Had Sherlock said that out loud? "You're human."

"Everyone else seems to disagree," Sherlock said.

"Well, I don't," John said. "You have a heart, Sherlock. I don't care what other people think." He felt John's fingers lacing through his and his heart fluttered.

It happened so fast. Sherlock didn't know what had gotten into him, but suddenly the doctor's face was in his hands and his lips were pressed firmly against John's. He felt John's hands on his waist and it felt nice, so nice that it surprised him. Sherlock pulled John against him, kissing him deeply, and after a few long moments, they broke apart, gasping for air.

John was gawking at him, his mouth open and his eyes as wide as dinner plates. "Sherlock, you feeling all right?"

"Of course, John. Why wouldn't I be?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, you did just kiss me," John pointed out. "I thought you were just married to your work."

Sherlock took his hand. "I feel love for you, John," he said. "I love you."

John opened his mouth to reply, but just then the door opened again. "Lestrade wants you inside," Anderson announced. Sherlock wanted to punch him. "he says it's urgent."

Sherlock's PoV:

They went back in the flat to find Lestrade standing in the living room, completely stunned. "What happened?" John asked. Sherlock was stunned to see that the body was gone. "Where's the body?"

"Yes, good question," Sherlock said, glancing accusingly at Anderson.

Anderson looked shocked. "Wh - you can't be serious! Greg!"

"Sherlock, this is a serious matter," Lestrade said. "Anderson went with me to investigate the rest of the flat. When we got back, the body was gone."

"Just like that?" John asked. "Just gone?"

Sherlock glanced at the ceiling of the living room, where there was a sun roof. The latch was closed, but Sherlock smiled. It was directly above where the body had been. "I think I know what happened," he said.

John looked at him in surprise. "Already?" he said in awe. "Sherlock," he sighed, smiling, his eyes filled with obvious love.

Sherlock pointed at the ceiling. "Sunroof."

John looked up and blushed. "Oh." Sherlock chuckled. "Don't laugh, you bloody git!" John exclaimed, giggling. "Why are we laughing? There's just been a murder, we can't laugh."

Lestrade and Anderson were staring at them. "So...the sunroof?" Lestrade ventured.

"Right." Sherlock cleared his throat and he could tell John was trying not to smile. "I'll need access to the roof."

Sherlock's PoV:

The small roof didn't show any sign of an intruder, which completely baffled Sherlock. No fingerprints on the sunroof, no evidence that someone had been there. "How can a body just vanish without a trace?" John asked.

"Good question," Sherlock admitted, crouching by the small glass roof. He examined it closely and then stood back up. "No sign of a break-in so the roof was unlocked. Gunshot wounds...I wonder."

"What?" Lestrade and John asked at the same time.

"I wonder if that's how the killer shot Theresa," Sherlock said.

"But the roof wouldn't have been open..." John started, and then his eyes widened in realization. "The roof was unlocked."

Sherlock smiled. "Exactly, my John."

John flushed crimson. "But that doesn't explain how the killer left no evidence behind," he said.

"No, it doesn't," Sherlock agreed. "That part's still a mystery. Lestrade, are there any more suspects?"

"So far, no," Lestrade answered. A phone rang then, making John jump. "Sorry, I've got to take this," Lestrade said, and walked over to the edge of the roof. "Hello?"

John glanced at Sherlock, his face still red. Anderson looked back and forth between them. The uncomfortable silence lingered until Lestrade came back over to them. "Someone just called in," Lestrade announced. "They have a good lead on who might have killed Theresa - and on how the killer might have gotten away so easily."

AN: I do love writing cliffhangers :) Let me know what you guys thought in a review? I will update soon