I do not own Sherlock, The Cat That Walked By Himself or The Princess Bride.

This is the last chapter but I promise it's lovely and fluffy.

The knock was familiar.

"Come in." John called as he added milk to the tea he had just made for himself and Sherlock. It was nice that Sherlock had actually gone to the shop to get it this time, he was certainly glad Sherlock seemed to have accepted the challenge of keeping up his end of the deal with Sophia.

Last week Sherlock had even gone in and solved (with explanations written out and suggested places to look for evidence) three boxes of Lestrade's cold cases that were apparently so boring that he'd 'needed' to break in to get them and finish by shooting the wall which lead to a bunch of cops charging in when he finished just to convince himself to stay awake. There had been a mixed reaction to that but he'd tried and once Lestrade had calmed down enough to actually look at what Sherlock had done he was mostly grateful about it. Molly on the other hand had been utterly delighted (if a little surprised) when Sherlock had dragged John to the morgue to give her a surprise birthday party complete with hat, cake and a necklace with a preserved fetal mouse in resin as the pendant. John thought the present was a little creepy but Molly was just thrilled Sherlock had remembered her birthday, let alone put so much effort into arranging something, and the cake was rather good so John called it a win and just told Sherlock how proud he was of him for having come up with it on his own. He was a little worried what his present might be if Sherlock tried this again in two months' time for his birthday though.

As Sophia came in John wondered if he'd have time to drink the tea, she usually didn't mind waiting a few minutes, or even coming back later if they were in the middle of a case, but there had been the time they'd had to race off to make a train on a few seconds notice.

"Hi John." Sophia looked tired, her usually animated face pale and instinctively John began to look for injuries, wondering if there was anything hidden by her clothing, which was all rather damp, unsurprising given the heavy rain outside. Her hair hung about her head, many people would have thought it might make her less attractive but John was used to seeing people at their worst, in the throes of sickness or injury, and he took it all quite in stride. "Sherlock, I need to borrow John."

"I expected as much." Sherlock commented from where he stood by the window, his violin in his hands, the playing having stopped at Sophia's knock.

"Can I finish my cup of tea first? The weather looks terrible I might need to fortify myself."

"Yes, yes of course, but we won't be going out." She seemed distracted, and John let his eyes slide over her again to double check that she appeared uninjured.

"Should I bring my medical kit?" He asked carefully as Sherlock put down his violin gently and accepted his cup of tea from John.

"No John, can't you see? Something has happened, something which has caused a deep emotional reaction, perhaps even shock, something she doesn't want to talk about in specifics, at least not with me, and she feels the need for comfort. You are a very comforting person John, I can understand the urge." Sherlock commented, causing John to look up to him in surprise. Sherlock could 'understand the urge'... Sherlock? But then he looked back to Sophia, all the signs were there, setting his own cup of tea on the table he wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the cold wetness of her hair against his neck, she melted into the hug, clinging back almost desperately.

"Movie night?" She asked softly.

"Of course. And we can talk about it, or not, it's entirely up to you, but first we need to get you out of these wet clothes." John said, his voice warm and soothing, but his concern for her health coming through. People's immune systems were lower after a shock and the last thing she would need while dealing with... whatever it was, was catching a chill.

"I hardly think sexual advances are appropriate at the moment." Sherlock commented, missing the point, as he sipped at his tea, trying to identify what he was feeling without revealing it. It was odd, he felt left out, and not because she was taking John away, he felt the urge to do something, to fix it in some way... but he had as little idea what to do as he had when John had been upset about any of his girlfriends leaving him, or when Sherlock had left an arm in the bathtub. The look John shot him was puzzling, but more so was the way Sophia peeked at him over John's shoulder, clearly thinking something... but both of them were more difficult to predict in many ways than most people, at least to Sherlock.

"On second thought, could we watch the movies here? I can pop downstairs, change into my pyjamas, grab some ice cream and popcorn." She asked, both her and John looking to Sherlock for a response.

"I hope you don't expect me to go out in this weather." Sherlock responded grouchily. "I suppose I could play my violin in my room... but I don't see why I should have to when you presumably have a perfectly serviceable television downstairs if that was your initial plan." He frowned.

"No, you shouldn't have to. We'll go downstairs." John felt the tension in Sophia's shoulders as she pulled away.

"Sherlock, I think Sophia meant to ask if you wanted to join us to watch the movie... it's something friends sometimes do together, to bond?" John commented, Sherlock could hear the hints in his voice, this was one of those times where sentiment was involved wasn't it?

"Fine. But not a murder mystery, I always find those terribly tedious, the plots are so obvious." He acceded, perhaps less graciously than most people but for Sherlock it was positively fuzzy. "Are we supposed to wear pyjamas as well? I fail to see why she should be allowed a more casual mode of dress and not us."

"I told you the first time we met you could consider clothing optional if you wanted Sherlock, but yes pyjamas might be an idea. I'll be right back." Sophia managed a small smile, it was a little shaky but it was there. Sherlock kept his eyes on John as she left, waiting for his reaction.

"That was very nice of you Sherlock. At least a medium nice thing." John commented approvingly, patting his flatmate on the arm before going to his room to search for some blankets. It wasn't long before the three of them were changed and back in the living room of 221B, though Sherlock and Sophia both had dressing gowns on over their pyjamas and John had one of his softest jumpers on over his.

"So what do you want to watch first? I brought up Rocky Horror, Labyrinth and The Princess Bride, I figured classics were the way to go. Sherlock do you want to pick?" Sophia asked as she set the disks on the table and pulled out two tubs of ice cream and a few packets of microwave popcorn, John grabbed one of the packets, removing a jar from the microwave (that he diplomatically didn't look too closely at) and setting it going.

"I thought I said no murder mysteries." Sherlock said, earning him twin odd looks. "Rocky Horror? Most horror movies feature a mysterious killer or a secret about the antagonists for which the killer decides they must die..."

"It's not really like that... the only people who die in Rocky Horror you know who and why... It's not exactly a horror movie, not entirely anyway. Haven't you seen it?"

"No, or if I have I deleted it. The same is true of the other two, I have no particular preference. John? Perhaps you can choose, you have a greater interest in movies and know what I tend to find amusing." Sherlock suggested as John tipped the popcorn into a large bowl.

"As you wish." It was an unusual way to phrase his agreement and he said it in an odd tone of voice, but it seemed to be some signal Sophia understood, she grinned, raising an eyebrow to confirm his choice. "It's got fencing, torture, true love, miracles..."

"As you wish was not one of the choices..." Sherlock commented in confusion, sparking a chuckle from John as he set the popcorn on the table, Sherlock frowned, sitting on his chair, Sophia sat on the sofa, she passed John The Princess Bride.

"Farm boy, pass me that blanket." She said as John stood from inserting the disc, pointing to the blanket John had set down on his chair, Sherlock watched the reaction, John was usually upset by being asked to fetch items within easy reach, but John smiled. It seemed to be some joke he didn't understand, he frowned.

"As you wish." John held the blanket out to Sophia, who took it from him but gripped his wrist, pulling him down beside her, she spread the blanket over both their laps. They looked cosy as she leaned into his shoulder and John put one arm about her, gathered toward one end of the sofa, and again Sherlock felt an odd pang of something, whatever it was it eased when Sophia patted the space next to her, a gesture for Sherlock to join them. It seemed impractical, crowding together on the sofa when they had other chairs, but he couldn't deny sharing body heat was warm, and strangely soothing.

Sherlock had complained about it being a romance right before the boy from the film had, causing both John and Sophia to laugh, which in turn made Sherlock pout. It was when he pointed out that the giant wasn't using his feet to help climb the cliff, which seemed unlikely, that Sophia took hold of his arm. She slipped it behind her as she shuffled forward slightly, so that his hand came to rest on her far hip next to John's thigh, as she had twisted slightly to do so, her back against the side of John's chest, and Sherlock's face coming to rest against her chest, which made rather a pleasant pillow. The angle was uncomfortable until he shifted slightly to curl into it, leaning against her, and in turn John, shuffling his bottom to the very farthest side of the sofa as his top half moved toward the middle. He might have protested but after quickly settling the blanket more firmly over the three of them her hand made its way into his hair, stroking his dark curls soothingly, it quietened his thoughts a little, and he let the relaxation spread through him.

It was quiet after that, but peacefully so, the three of them curled into one another. John even began to suspect Sherlock was asleep, he was never this quiet for so long unless he was in his mind palace, he expected him to jump up at any moment and shout 'Bored!' As the movie wound to an end he was reluctant to move to put on the next one, instead he looked down, as he had more than once, at Sophia, who shifted slightly to look back up at him.

"So... you and Sherlock...?" John asked, quietly, as the credits rolled on the screen, they had kissed after all, and she'd taken a bullet for him, not to mention he had spent over an hour with his head on her chest, it made sense that the one person he liked who Sherlock didn't scare away would be attracted to the eccentric genius.

"And you." Her voice was equally soft, not wanting to wake their dark haired friend, but it wasn't a question, though it held hints of pleading for understanding.

"You kissed him. I... uh... I guess I waited too long..."

"John. Sherlock has a brilliant mind, trying to keep up with him is thrilling, as well you know, not to mention he's very handsome, of course I kissed him, I'm only human for goodness sake." John sighed, taking that as an answer, but Sophia continued. "You're just as special though, you might not think so, Sherlock may not admit to thinking so, but you are, not for your mind, we're both smart but not Sherlock smart, no it's your heart. You are warm, and caring, and so full of love, you're the only person who was able to love Sherlock enough for him to learn how to begin to return it." John took a breath, to protest again that he was straight but Sophia cut him off. "Don't pretend this is about sexuality, you wouldn't be so defensive if you didn't love him, even if you don't want to have sex with him. Your ex-girlfriends left because they assumed you could only love one person that deeply, that you would have to choose, and that you chose him, I haven't John. I never want to come between you in any way other than I am right now, physically, warm and surrounded, you bring out the best in each other and I want that for you, for both of you."

"Don't worry, I won't take it personally that you want to be with him." John assured her.

"Idiot." Sherlock muttered, making it clear he wasn't as asleep as John had hoped given the topic.

"I want to be with you. I don't want you to have to choose, I'd rather not have to, but I understand you're somewhat traditional, and sexy as it might be I'm more interested in Sherlock's mind than his body, not to mention he would make a terrible boyfriend."

"I would not. I'm never terrible at anything." Sherlock commented.

"It involves sentiment, and you claim to be a sociopath." Sophia responded in a wry tone. "I don't think you are, the way you feel about John, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft, it all shows that you're capable of caring, but you could hardly say it's your strong suit, I think the best we can hope for is friendship with a side of sexual attraction." She bent to press a kiss to Sherlock's forehead affectionately before turning back to John. "The important question is, John, what do you want?"

There was a long silence as John thought, considering how he had felt about the kiss at the crime scene, about the way she touched Sherlock since then, the way he felt about her and how spending time with her was unlike spending time with anyone else other than Sherlock. He looked down at her fingers still running through his dark curls, somehow it all seemed right. If it had been anyone other than Sherlock it probably wouldn't have, but he shared so much of his life with Sherlock already. The reason he had almost given up on finding anyone before he met Sophia was Sherlock, who was his soul mate in so many ways but left one part of him unfulfilled because they were both men. He couldn't imagine leaving Sherlock, which had pretty much ruled out a long term partner, but it was difficult to imagine having a girlfriend who also cuddled up to Sherlock and snogged him at crime scenes. He thought of the look on Sherlock's face when it had happened, the way he reacted, did anyone actually touch Sherlock? He would occasionally pat him on the shoulder, but it wasn't like Sherlock and Mycroft hugged one another, and he wouldn't let anyone else get close. He wasn't sure he could take the simple pleasure of human contact away from his closest friend, not now he'd actually felt it, goodness knows John had felt that loss before. In the end there was really only one decision he could make, but before he could say it he had to know something, for this to work he needed to trust her absolutely.

"What happened tonight, before you came here, what left you so shook up? I know I said you didn't have to talk about it but..."

"It's okay John, I'd rather try not to think about it, but I don't want to keep things from you, either of you, well aside from my not telling Sherlock how I find some things out before him but that's just for fun." She took a deep breath. "I... I was attacked tonight. The man who tried it had no idea who I was, I almost expect it when I'm working on a case, when someone might find out what I do, but this was just a common mugger. I was trying not to think about the rain down the back of my jacket so I wasn't paying as much attention to my surroundings as I should have been, he had his arm round my neck and a knife at my back..."

"My goodness, did you talk to the police? You don't have to tell me any more if you don't want to but you should report it..." John interrupted, his voice all concern.

"It's okay, they have him. A couple walked down the street at the right time, it caught his attention and I disarmed him, he lost a few teeth and I broke his arm and several ribs. The thing is that in the moment, when I wasn't quite sure if I'd make it home I realised... home. Since I my parents died I've been the cat who walks by herself, and all places are alike to me, there's never been a home, just wherever my clothes are, my bed, but it's not like that any more."

At some point during her explanation her eyes had dropped from his, focusing on his collarbone at the edge of his pyjama collar, her tone more of a confession of something she wasn't sure she was ready to admit, not so much about the attack but her reaction. He looked between the two of them. He could have both, he had never thought he could have both. This was what she offered, both. Not in the tawdry way people might assume he wanted but the abrupt simplicity that came up at odd times with Sherlock. They would be his and he theirs on their own terms and their own ways. John used the hand that wasn't already around her shoulders to tilt her chin up and press his lips to hers, a kiss that started off gentle but rapidly grew more heated, deeper, full of unexpressed emotion.

"Finally." Sherlock said with mild disdain. "I always knew you were slow sometimes John but this was getting ridiculous." John scowled slightly, as if Sherlock was really in a position to judge, she'd kissed him not the other way around, and he didn't think Sherlock had done anything about it since. He was about to say so but Sophia kissed him again with a smirk on her lips and he found himself not caring quite so much, it didn't matter how long it had taken him to figure out what he wanted, the important thing was that it had found him anyway and he was very happy it had. "You need to put a new movie on John." Sherlock added.