Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Sherlock and I lay on the bed in a glowing, overjoyed heap. Sherlock lay in his original position; half on me, half on the bed with one arm looped around my neck. I run my fingers through his hair and rest my other hand on his back.
Things really couldn't have been better.
"Mmm," Sherlock hums, "John."
"What?"
"Where were you last night?" I sit quietly for a moment, trying to remember what he was talking about.
"Where were you last night?" He repeats. He tilts his head and looks up at me.
"Why are you asking? You already know where I was," I mumble.
"Yes and no," Sherlock states, "I knew where you were, I just don't understand WHY."
"Just figure it out. Deduce where I was," I sigh despite myself. It's not hard to figure out, but is this conversation really necessary at this point?
"When you got home last night your steps were staggered like you were drunk so you could have been at the pub, but didn't drink enough to have lost your pride to accost me, therefor that rules out the pub. You immediately went to sleep, being that it was late and however much alcohol you had could have made you very tired but seeing how you reacted to our "discussions" yesterday the exhaustion is more likely due to mental exhaustion, but what we said wasn't enough. You had to've talked to another.
"This morning you didn't try to move me when I woke," Sherlock props himself up on one arm and I turn away from his amused expression as a blush creeps up my face, "meaning that you've probably come to terms with our relationship for what it is." Sherlock's expressions clears to that of understanding. "Oh. You were at Harry's because she's the only one you really felt comfortable talking to about this seeing as she's gay and it would be much easier to talk to her about 'coming out', as some say. Also, I know you were there because just my admitting to you how I felt could not be enough to exhaust you like that. Yet whenever you go to see her you tend to act drained and tired. Now the two of those combined in a certain amount of time is more likely to do damage to one's self restraint," Sherlock finally concludes. I smile at him. "Yes, I was at Harry's. She's the only one that could really understand what I was thinking." I rest my head down on the pillow and begin to chuckle a bit.
"What did I miss?" Sherlock asks bewildered. "Why are you laughing?"
I hold back my laughter for a couple seconds, but it still lingers in my voice. "The best part about seeing Harry, as opposed to popular belief, is that we can actually have decent discussions. Also we didn't drink." I start laughing and Sherlock lifts himself up to look at me fully. I put my hand over my face and turn to the side. Sherlock quietly waits for my laughing to stop. "Brilliant, John. You are wonderful, magnificent," he says in mock praise.
"Oh don't be butt hurt because I tricked you. After all I didn't ask you to be so pushy- this is payback."
Sherlock looked at me with a cool, calculating expression then smirked. "I'm just going to have to get you back then," he growled, leaning in.
"I can't wait," I laughed. I cupped his cheek and closed the distance between us for a slow, sweet kiss.
Needless to say Sherlock did get his revenge.
It was fucking great.
A/N: And that concludes 'The Conclusion'. I hope you guys enjoyed it, (but if you didn't, why did you read this far? Are you stupid or are you just incredibly bored?) Thanks for reading!
