I lied.

"Oh I don't think that will be necessary Mr. Brown." Mycroft Holmes stood in the doorway, leaning casually against his ever present umbrella. "Victor. John, if you'll follow me."

Mycroft led them down the hall to any empty room. The moment the door closed John rounded on the elder Holmes. "What is going on here Mycroft? No. You know what? I don't care; just will someone please tell me what happened to Sherlock?"

Before answering Mycroft made himself comfortable in one of the two chairs available in the room. "Introductions first I believe. Victor Holmes this is the infamous Dr. John Watson you've heard so much about. John this is-"

"Oh. Oooh God. You're the flatmate?" The man covered his face in embarrassment sitting down into the other chair. Not wanting to be the odd man out John plunked himself down on to the bed beside them.

"Quite. Now about Sherlock; from what the cameras- ahem, around town picked up, as well as what witnesses confirmed, it would appear that early this morning Sherlock was called in by Detective Inspector Lestrade for help on a case. While he was inspecting the crime scene Sherlock found evidence that, quote, 'any imbecilic four year old can see it points straight to the whereabouts of the criminals'. Unquote. My dear brother being who he is, decided against waiting for the police and went after the gang himself. One spectacular foot chase later his opponent got the upper hand, and Sherlock had a knife in his abdomen. Oh before you ask John, he did call up to you asking you to meet him at the yard before he left. You were of course still asleep at the time."

"Wait... there aren't cameras in my bedroom are there?"

Mycroft gave him a thin-lipped smile. "This is the part where it gets... delicate. John, it appears my brother neglected to mention a rather vital piece of information about himself. You see Sherlock has been in a committed civil partnership for the past three and a half years to Victor Holmes, nee Trevor. They are by every right... married to one another."

Silence.

Even more silence.

"Oh come on." Further continuation of the silence. "Sherlock's not... not married! He would've- well actually he is, he's married to his work, he told me that practically the day we met!"

Victor snorted. "He really said that?" A softer expression passed over his face. "That was sort of a private joke. When we first met, I was just starting out in the world of politics. A really rather dangerous criminal organizations decided I must've been worth something. Lucky for myself, so did the British government. He took my kidnapping case as a favour to Mycroft."
"...You were his work."
"I was his work. He, at the very last minute swooped in Batman style to save my life."
"And so began the unusual courtship of Victor Trevor, and Sherlock Holmes."
Victor grinned at Mycroft's addition, but John continued to frown. "Why am I- if he's married to you, why did Sherlock need a flatmate? I mean there's not even a damn photo of you anywhere in the house!"

Victor was silent for a moment. "The thing about Sherlock is, he's... not good... on his own. He needs someone. About a year after we exchanged vows, I got promoted. The position, it involves a lot of traveling. A whole lot of traveling. My career would've been over if I didn't accept it. If I had my way Sher would have come with me, but... but he wouldn't have been happy with a life on the road like that. "

"But-"

"You've seen Sherlock's work, yeah? The sort of people it attracts? Well the ones in my life aren't much better. We had a lot of close calls. And because of our sex... er.. um... because we were both men, the danger was that much worse. It made it difficult for us to trust many people with the knowledge of... us."

Victor's words hurt John more than he dared admit. "I've been living in close proximities with the man for what seven months now? I've never even heard your name before."

"Might I point out that this is Sherlock Holmes we're dealing with. There's every chance he told you in minute detail about his marriage to Victor, John. You simply... may not have been home at the time."

"That's... that's actually really very plausible isn't it?"

"Yes. It is. God. I'm going to kill him. I'm really really going to kill him. He shouldn't have gone off on his own like that. Having you for a colleague was supposed to prevent this sort of thing!"

The smallest of smiles tugged John's mouth. "You really do love him don't you?"

"Wouldn't have married the git if I didn't."

At that moment a nurse appeared at the door. "Oh Mr. Holmes there you are. Sherlock's just come out of surgery, he'll be waking up in a few minutes if you want to go see him."

All three men began to rise from their perches. The nurse raised his hand. "I'm very sorry sirs, but only two visitors are permitted at this time."

Mycroft grabbed his umbrella. "Just as well. My business here this evening is concluded. Victor, always a pleasure. John, I'll be seeing you soon."

The nurse led them along to a private room where Sherlock was clearly just beginning to stir.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock's bleary eyes settled on the two men. He let out a pleased hum. "Victor."

"I can't leave you alone for five minutes can I?"

"No that was very stupid of you. Don't ever do it again."

"I won't I promise." Victor pulled the chair up as close as he could to Sherlock, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. "What am I going to do with you?"

A wicked little smirk played at the corners of Sherlock's lips. His husband placed a finger on his mouth before he had a chance to reply. "Ah no. That thought was much too indecent to be said aloud."

"Spoilsport."

Neither man had yet to break eye contact with the other. John felt like he was intruding on a reunion that could very well be labeled as intimate. He watched them for a moment longer trying desperately to ignore the want, the need to be the one on the receiving end of those loving tender looks Sherlock gave to Victor.

Swallowing back his feelings John left the room.

"They're very happy John."

"I know."

Mycroft stepped from the shadows he had been lurking in. "Their relationship may not be ideal, but they've made it work."

"I know."

"I can only imagine what harm it would do to Sherlock if anyone was to try and get between them."

John turned to stare Mycroft straight in the eye. "I know." With that John took his leave. No matter what John feelings for the detective were, John knew he would never try anything now that he understood the truth. Victor was the one Sherlock had chosen. John was just the friend.

It was better this way.

Really.

It was.

..

..

..

God I'm so sorry I wasted your time. That was really terrible wasn't it? I have no idea why I wrote this it's too different from my usual goof troop writing! I should just take this down. Okay, I'm done. So sorry. *runs and hides under rock in shame*