John was silent, stirring his tea like he had been for the past 10 minutes, harry just watched her brother, wondering what was so important that he needed to talked to her, and with such short notice; she knew it had something to do with the love bite on his neck, John was having relationship issues, but why ask her?

"Nice place you've got here." It was the only thing John had said, apart from Hello when she had opened the door.

"Yes, it's cosy," Harry agreed, she had never been a fan of small talk, this was just aggravating. "John." Harry sighed, looking down at her hands that were folded in her lap. "John why are you here?" the doctor placed his cup on the coffee table, taking a deep breath.

"I need your advice, I know we haven't exactly been getting on recently, but you've been there for me in the past, and I was wondering if we could overcome our differences and make an effort to be friends." Harry raised her eyebrows, this was John apologising, in his own unique way, but she knew he meant well.

"What's wrong?"

"Last night." He took a deep breath. "Last night I found myself in bed with Sherlock," John said, watching his sister's reaction. She sat back in her chair, shocked.

"You mean you and Sherlock…" she trailed off, John's head snapping up when he realised what she was implying.

"No – God no – nothing like that," John stumbled, tripping over his words. "We were just…kissing…and stuff." He cringed, that didn't sound too good either.

"And you're not gay are you, is that the problem?" Harry asked, trying to piece things together. John went back to been silent. Harry did think about offering him an alcoholic drink, that would loosen his tongue, but she was trying to stop drinking so she could have a better relationship with John. "Can we walk and talk?" John asked. Harry sighed, but agreed.

It was cold and windy as they walked through Hyde Park; John had brought them some take-away coffees from the small café, drinking them as they strolled along the river.

"You been…not gay is the problem then?" Harry finally asked, annoyed that she had to be out in the cold to get John to talk. John nodded. "For God sake John!" Harry snapped. "Swallow that pride of yours and admit that you are." She wasn't happy. "There is nothing wrong with liking Sherlock in that way, he obviously likes you…more than a friend, judging from that mark on your neck, you don't do that unless you love someone."

"I - I don't find men…men in general, they're not attractive." John paused. "I just find him attractive…" John mumbled. "I crave him, crave his company." As John said this a tear rolled down his cheek and he rubbed it away, frustrated that he was almost crying.

"John, look at me." John turned to his sister, the sharp sting of her palm hitting his cheek made him gasp, more out of shock than pain. "You should be saying this to him, not me." John rubbed his cheek.

"But last night, when we were kissing, he just stopped and we went to bed, I'm worried he changed his mind or something…you don't just stop…" John's voice was a whisper, even though there was no one around, they were the only two mad enough to be walking on such a horrible day.

"You've never slept with a man have you?" John frowned, of course he hadn't, and even she knew that. "And Sherlock is a virgin right?"

"Yes."

"Exactly, maybe he didn't want to rush into things because this is a completely new thing, for both of you, more daunting for Sherlock because he's never slept with anyone before…you see my point?"

"But-" his sister cut him off.

"But what?" John winced, scared he was about to get another slap from his sister. "You want my advice?" Harry snapped. "Go back home and tell Sherlock how you feel, that's my advice, take it or leave it!" John was sulking now, been shouted at by his older sister, he knew she was right. "You need to talk to him, and make sure you are on the same page; don't ruin things with Sherlock like I did with Clara." She sighed before wrapping her arms around her brother, squeezing him. "I just want you to be happy John; I don't want you to have the same regrets I do."

"You're the one who ended that." John's voice was muffled by Harriet's coat.

"That doesn't mean I can't regret ending it." They stopped hugging when the rain became heavier, pulling up their hoods. "Go home John and tell Sherlock how you feel." She hugged him one last time. "Send him my regards." Harry was already walking towards the underground, waving over her shoulder. John dug his hands into his pocket, marching off in the direction of Baker Street, oblivious to the black car waiting for him.