This is dedicated to my boyfriend. Whom I love very much, yet don't have the guts to tell him. I can't and I'm scared. Just like John.

"He never smiles like that. Not for anyone." John said as soon as Sherlock and Eliot was out of ear shot.

"No. He smiles brighter for someone else."

"Right. Who?'

"You."

"What?"

"Yes. It breaks my heart and I feel like I'm in little pieces, but it's true. That grin he gives you, more genuine than I've ever gotten."

"No."

"Yes. John. He loves you. You love him too."

"I don't…"

"Yes you do. Don't try and deny it. Because you know it is true. Your eyes can't help but travel back to his face every once in a while. Your mind tries to stop your hand from running through those dark curls. You just can't help it."

"No. Parker. I don't think…"

"Fine. Don't believe me."

There was a long pause.

"Well… Sherlock is always says that he is married to his work."

"You are his work."

"What do you mean?"

"He observes you. You're the plainest, simplest man, yet he can't figure you out."

"Right." John doesn't know if he should take that as a compliment or an insult.

"So you are his work. And he loves his work."

"But you know, I don't just want to be part of his work."

"He's trying to figure that out now. Give him time."

"Okay."

"Tell him that you'll always be there for him. He was so scared. So scared at you finding about his past. He wants to be a good man, John, he tries."

"He is a good man."

"Tell him that. For a genius he has really low self-confidence."

"What about you? Doesn't he love you?"

"Not anymore. He needs you John. He doesn't need me."

"Right."

A long awkward pause.

"Thank you Parker."

"You're welcome."