Epilogue

"Thank you for helping me do this," Sherlock said matter-of-factly, looking up from his task to smile briefly at John, "It would be far more tedious on my own."

"You know that this isn't going to work, right?" John replied, not tearing his eyes away from the task, but smiling nonetheless, "She comes in here to wipe down the surfaces."

Sherlock shrugged dismissively, reaching across to take another piece of plywood. The two of them were sitting, cross-legged on the bathroom floor, either side of the hole, in the middle of the day, sello-taping planks of plywood over the gap in a shoddy attempt at hiding it.

The whole situation was ridiculous, Sherlock knew, but it was actually nice, having something strategic to focus on; it reminded him of when he had tried covering up his messes from his mother when he was a child. Except this time he wasn't alone; John was sitting opposite him, humming an erratic tune under his breath whilst he focused all of his energies into pulling out the tape without getting wrapped up in it, and then placing the planks of wood evenly across the hole. Sherlock couldn't help but think that the single-mindedness of the way John went about the task was fascinating to watch, and just a little adorable.

"Well I think that's done." John stated, once they were no longer able to see the ratty purple coat, or the vinyl records that sat forlornly in Mrs Hudson's cupboard.

"I think it rather is." Sherlock agreed, rubbing his hands together before stacking the remaining plywood into a small pile as John wrapped up the tape, "Although it's a shoddy job."

John shook his head, smirking as he did so.

"It would be shoddier if I hadn't been here to help."

Sherlock smiled fondly; he wanted to show John that he appreciated the help, but signs of affection were not his area of expertise. He settled for something that appeared to go down well between the manly men friends on television.

"That is would be." he remarked, fixing on a stiff smile, and then curling his hand into a fist, bumped said fist against John's upper arm in a friendly gesture, although it came off more awkward and static, "Good job!"

John merely looked bemused as he rose to his feet, offering a hand to pull Sherlock after him.

"Thanks?"

Sherlock shook his head, his expression dropping.

"No, that won't do, that was ridiculous." he muttered, turning on the spot to sweep the floor mat over the now boarded up hole in the floor. When he turned back around John was leaning against the doorway waiting; still smirking, the bastard.

"Yes, that was ridiculous." John commented smugly; he had been smug all day, relishing Sherlock's clumsiness, his day of mistakes, "It's a good thing I understand what you meant by it."

"I could hug you if it would make the message clearer." Sherlock offered sarcastically, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture, but pulling them back just to ensure that John didn't take him up on it just to annoy him. Not that he'd mind...or...whatever.

"Mmm...now that would be weird." John replied, chuckling under his breath. He stepped away from the doorway and wandered into the living room. Sherlock, of course, followed, dropping into his own chair.

"Do I owe you a massive favour now?" Sherlock queried, watching as John peered at his reflection in the mirror. Clearly not planning on sitting down, so already decided up going elsewhere.

John shot him a look.

"You could buy me dinner," he suggested, "I'm starving."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but John's observational skills were clearly improving as he was already moving across the room to pick up his coat.

"I'd have thought you were sick of the sight of me after spending all day in my company." Sherlock mused as he rose to his feet, taking the long black coat that John was holding out to him. John didn't grace that with a look, instead just heading straight for the door.

"Well, lucky for you Sherlock, I actually enjoy your company." he replied through gritted teeth as he struggled with the zip on his coat. Sherlock waitied patiently by the door, but couldn't help the smile that just didn't seem to want to go away today.

"Next thing you know, we'll be snuggling on the sofa, and holding hands whenever our favourite song plays over the supermarket speakers." he joked provocatively, smirking when John didn't laugh, but looked up as he passed under the arm the was holding open the door.

"Don't tempt me." John shot back, enjoying the genuine warm chuckle that escaped Sherlock's chest as the two of them trampled down the stairs.

Officially the end now. If I start writing fluff, I will actually write it forever, and my IRL will get neglected.

Hope you liked :)