The Lonley Soldier Chapter 8

AN: Helloooo, so here is chapter 8. Hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not owe Sherlock :(

WARNING: some swearing in this chapter; just to let you know ;)

After two months of Sherlock moving back to 221b, both Sherlock and my self agreed that we should tell everyone that Sherlock was alive. However we couldn't agree on how to tell everyone.

"It's simple John, we send out a signal around the world say things like #SherlockLives or #notdead. That way everyone will know and I don't have to leave the flat"

"No Sherlock, what about Greg? Or Molly? They're your friends Sherlock. You should tell them in person"

Sherlock got out of his armchair – flinging his legs in the air, far too wide. And moved to lie on the sofa, facing his back to me. "No" he mumbled.

"Bloody hell Sherlock, you sulk all you want, do what you want. But don't look for me when your experiment suddenly disappear"

Sherlock looked back at me, "you wouldn't" he said trying to deduce if I would carry out my threat.

"Do you want to bet?" I replied, smiling my coldest smirk.

With a frustrated sigh Sherlock got up from the sofa, moving to his bedroom. "Where you going?" I asked.

"To get changed"

_xXx_

"okay, so you've seen Greg, now you only have to see Molly"

"Don't need to see Molly, she already knew I was alive"

I was shocked; "Sorry?"

Sherlock looked at me, giving me that look, the why are you asking such a stupid and simple question? "Of course she knew, she helped me fake it"

Flabbergasted, I stood there trying to think of what to say. Molly already knew? She helped? Why didn't she tell me, or at least give me some clues? My trail of thought was stopped why Sherlock asked, "Why haven't you asked how I faked it anyway?"

"Well, I don't care. I mean it was probably a fascinating technique of thinking; as always by you. But I got you back, that one miracle."

When I stopped talking, I remembered standing at the gravestone in the cemetery, asking Sherlock for that one miracle. And once I realised that I said something girly, I started to blush, ME; John Hamish Fucking Watson started blushing. Sherlock must of seen me blush, judging by his next actions.

"Oh, you mean when you said 'one more miracle Sherlock, just for me. Don't. Be. Dead'" when he spoke, it was in that low tone, making my toes curl; Stepping closer to me, not taking his cold grey eyes away from my eyes.

My breath hitched in my throat, making me make a nervous noise, just like a silly teenage talking to their crush.

"Oh John"

While he moved ever so slowly towards me, I started to remember all of our moments. Not anyone else's; Ours.

When we got home after our first chase through London; I didn't know the man yet I chased him, through roof tops, alleyways, all for him to say "Welcome to London".

When he made me my first cup of tea when I got sick with the flu. He insisted on me not leaving the bed and that he looks after me, even though he didn't know how to.

And when we were handcuffed to each other, running through London once again; but this time, we were holding hands. I know it's silly but I got to make physical contact. And physical contact with Sherlock Holmes is as rare as snow in summer.

But before I knew it Sherlock had slipped so close to me that I could feel his breath on my face, he was so hot. And when I started to think that he was going to kiss me, he pulled away; Bastard.

"What?" I mumbled.

Sherlock turned around (he had faced away from me and was about to leave the livening room) "mm?"

"What are you doing?"

He pointed to the kitchen, "going to make a cuppa. I'm sorry, do you want one?"

Do I want one? Is he having a laugh? "Sherlock, you just nearly kissed me and you back away like it's nothing?"

Sherlock just looked down at his shoes.

"Do you have any idea what that does to me?" I started to raise my voice. "I. You." I took a deep breath. "You arse, you cock. I hate you, your eyes, your hair, your intelegence, your cheekbones. And by God I love your bloody jaw line!" and before I even had a chance to think I rushed over to Sherlock, grabbed his face in my hands and slammed my lips onto his. After a few seconds, i panicked and ran out of the flat. Fast walking turned into jogging, then jogging turned into running. Now I was running through London, but this time I was running away from Sherlock. I need to run far away. Away from him, 221b and what I just did…
Fuck what did I just do?.

_xXx_

AN: So there you have it! I was thinking about next chapter being in Sherlock's POV, but I'm not too sure. Please help.

.spoon x