John was still fast asleep, quietly snoring, the man wouldn't be awaking anytime soon, not after the wild night they had had, Sherlock realised what all the fuss had been about, sex was indeed one of the best things he had had the pleasure of participating in, and with John been his partner Sherlock imagined it couldn't get better.
Sherlock stretched, peeking at himself under the duvet, frowning at the sight, rolling over to hug John's back, he wasn't in a hurry to get up, and it was the first time Sherlock actually had a lie in…and he was having a lie in with a naked John Watson beside him, although the man was asleep, which made Sherlock's morning glory somewhat useless, the detective would have woken the sleeping man up, but John looked so adorable Sherlock just stared, stroking the man's body as he lay next to him, closing his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet, he didn't have any cases, and he was far away from the troubles of London.
"John?" Sherlock whispered into the other man's ear, running his fingers over John's stomach. John groaned, been woken from his sleep by the tickle on his belly. "Oh sorry, did I wake you…" Sherlock smirked, kissing John's ear, the man groaning again.
"I was having a nice dream," John murmured, frustrated, rolling over to face the detective.
"I can tell." Sherlock winked at John, the doctor blushed bright red when Sherlock's hand slid under the cover. "Dreaming about me again?" Sherlock teased; John just lent up and kissed Sherlock soundly on the lips before rolling over, heading to the bathroom; the detective jumped up. "Can I join you?" John turned back, nodding for him to follow; sex in the shower again, excellent, Sherlock almost skipped into the bathroom; only to be stopped by the ringing of his phone, he hesitated, quickly searching for his phone, fishing it out of his trouser pocket, looking at the number…Lestrade. Sherlock sighed, answering it.
"Yes Lestrade?" he snapped slightly, looking towards the bathroom. "What can I help you with?" Sherlock listened to Lestrade going on about a case that he needed Sherlock's help with, the client had asked for Sherlock to be involved and was willing to pay a hefty amount to get his painting back; Sherlock just agreed to consider helping once back off his holiday, quickly hanging up on the detective whilst he was still going through the details, Sherlock was already on a case, and a little pre-occupied to care about anything else at the moment, John was in the bathroom and Sherlock wanted to join him.
"Who was that?" John asked, frowning, he thought Sherlock had turned his phone off.
"Lestrade, a painting of some sort has been stolen and the person is willing to pay to get it back, Lestrade said the client had asked for me personally." Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's naked body, nuzzling at his neck. "Were you jealous?" he teased, kissing John's neck, watching the man get flustered. John snorted.
"Me, jealous?" he laughed, rolling his eyes. "What painting?"
"Turner's painting of The Reichenbach Falls." Sherlock wasn't interested in the case, money wasn't his motivation and the case was hardly compelling, Scotland Yard could handle this.
"Are you going to take the case?" This conversation wasn't exactly what Sherlock wanted when he had followed the doctor into the bathroom and he quickly pressed his lips against John's pulling the smaller man closer to him, deepening the kiss, and of course John forgot all about the stupid case and joined in, kissing the detective back, unexpectedly Sherlock pulled away, grabbing John's wrist, dragging him back into the bedroom, throwing him onto the bed, practically jumping on top of him.
"The bed is far comfier than the shower, we can always have round two in the bathroom." Sherlock winked before been pulled down by his doctor.
-x-
Eventually the two of them emerged from the bedroom just past midday, washed, dressed and starving. Sherlock insisted that he would pay for lunch at one of the local pubs, according to Sherlock they did the best steak and kidney pie in England, so John agreed, it was a warm and sunny day, they could sit in the pub garden and eat so what was there to complain about.
The pub was small and old fashioned but the way the interior was set out made it very spacious. They were greeted by a brunette girl, who seemed a little over eager to serve Sherlock, pushing her voluptuous body in his direction, leaning on the bar, giggling and smiling, although Sherlock been his usual self and completely ignored her; instead he studied the menu, smiling and winking at John, which the doctor found immensely amusing, the girl was trying so hard to; but who could blame her, Sherlock was irresistible with his curly brown hair and stunning cheekbones , the tight white shirt helped too.
"Go grab us a table in the sun, I'll order for us, should we stick with water to drink?" they had consumed so much alcohol recently Sherlock thought it best to try and flush out their systems.
As soon as John had left the pub and headed round back, Sherlock turned to the brunette, smiling, this time making an attempt to flirt with her, he had observed how John flirted and thought this would be excellent practise.
"That's an interesting tattoo you have on your hand," Sherlock smiled, not his best pick up line, but it was a start…he should have asked John to extract the information for him, he was useless at flirting; but the girl smiled back and explained she got the tattoo because sparrows were her favourite bird, Sherlock of course, knew the real reason behind the tattoo. Sherlock observed the tattoo carefully as the girl wrote down his order, unlike the tattoos on the men's hands, the sparrow on the girls hand was holding a small branch, obviously added after the original tattoo, identifying her as an ex gang member, just the woman Sherlock was looking for.
"How long were you a gang member?" the question stunned the girl who looked around, no one in earshot.
"How…how did you know?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"I know about almost all the gang that operate in and around London, I know that some members of your gang left the North of England in search of better earnings and jobs, recently your gang was offered a large sum of money by an anonymous client, the client asked for someone to be taken care of, no questions asked." The young girl just blinked at Sherlock, taking a deep breath.
"Are you with the police?" the detective rolled his eyes again, shaking his head.
"No this is a…personal matter, the man you just saw me with was the man some of your gang members tried to kill…so, I will ask you again, how long were you a member of the gang?" the girl sighed looking down at her hands.
"My mother is a member of the gang, and so is my father, I was born into the gang, but I only did small jobs…nothing extreme…nothing incriminating," she stuttered.
"Where is the gangs warehouse, or safe house?" the girl shook her head. "I don't know, they change every so often, my mother and I escaped whilst we could." Sherlock frowned, back to square one...no leads here unless the girl was withholding information. The detective thanked the girl for the water and her time before heading outside to where John was.
John was sat on the grass rather than at a table, his eyes closed with his face lifted towards the sun, Sherlock placed the glasses of water onto the table next to where John was before joining his boyfriend on the grass, pulling him into an awkward sideways hug with one arm, rubbing his nose against John's cheek, John let out a giggle as a curl of Sherlock's hair tickled his jaw, which just encouraged Sherlock to carry on; they were so childish. Sherlock eventually stopped tickling John, lying down on the grass, John took the opportunity to rest his head on the detective's chest, and they lay blissfully happy.
"After lunch do you fancy going for a walk? We could go to the cove, or the limestone pavement." John agreed; he didn't mind where he was or what he was doing, as long as he was with Sherlock. After another half an hour or so the two men were off the grass and were sat at one of the tables with their pies in front of them; their stomachs rumbling as they began to dissect the food that was piled onto their plates, deciding the best way to tackle the mountain of pastry, meat and vegetables, only now did John realise how hungry he actually was; and just like Sherlock had said, the pie was the best thing John had ever eaten.
Sherlock paid for their lunch, he had scribbled a note on his napkin, a time and place where the waitress would meet them if she wanted to help; he made sure it was somewhere she would see it before throwing the evidence away. John seemed not to have noticed, thanking Sherlock for their lunch, patting his stomach.
"I think we should go to the limestone pavement, it's a lovely walk and an even better view," the detective smiled, and John just nodded.
On the walk back to the small cottage Sherlock was distracted, the man was frantically typing away on his phone, replying to all the messages from Lestrade; he also had a few missed calls from his brother. John was lost in thought, but the two men held hands regardless of their detachment from what was going on.
"Is that where we are meeting her?" John asked once they were back at Harebell. Sherlock frowned as he pushed the key into the front door; it seemed John had been paying more attention to what was happening that he had originally thought. "I should have guessed you had an alternative motive driving up here, this is just another Job to you, not a holiday." Sherlock was lost for words, John was almost right on all accounts, but Sherlock did really want time away, but he wanted to keep his boyfriend safe, and if that meant kicking down the front door of the gangs warehouse then so be it, Sherlock would do so. The detective chose his next words carefully, John was easily upset and Sherlock was probably going to say the wrong thing…he always did.
"John…I love you." A good start. "We are up here because I love you, I want to keep you safe, I want to get away from London, I have been for a long time, but then everything happened and I saw an opportunity for us to get away from everything, but I also want to destroy the gang that almost killed you…" John stared at Sherlock, a mix of emotions spread across his face before he straightened himself out.
"I love you too." Was his reply to Sherlock's…plan, but he was still annoyed that Sherlock had withheld the truth about why they were in Malham. Sherlock signed with relief, he didn't want to argue with John, and he hated conflict between them.
"Oh and I wasn't arranging a time or place to meet her, I was informing her that the chef is in fact one of the gang members and that she should leave as soon as possible." Sherlock smiled.
John's phone began to buzz, stopping him from been able to comment, the doctor fumbled around trying to answer it. "Greg! How are you?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, pushing the door open; motioning for John to go in, the man shook his head, staying outside in the sun listening to Lestrade, who was begging John to convince Sherlock to take up the The Reichenbach painting case. "He said maybe, he's very busy at the moment…" Lestrade complained that Sherlock didn't have any cases he was just lazy. John sighed promising the man he would try to convince Sherlock to at least look at the case, which pleased Grey, who thanked John before hanging up.
Both men got changed into clothing more suitable for walking in, although kept the layers to minimum due to the heat.
"Here, take this too…just in case." Sherlock said handing John his gun, winking at him, he knew John never went anywhere without his gun, Sherlock shoved another gun down the back of his trousers, one he had acquired from Lestrade a while back and had left it in Harebell last time he had visit.
"Are you expecting a gun fight?" John questioned, worried, Sherlock wasn't usually one to carry a gun around, he relied on John for that.
"Well…one can never be too careful, and besides, love is a vicious motivator…" The chef would probably know something is wrong when the girl didn't return for her night shift and Sherlock wanted to be prepared if they bumped into anyone working for Moriarty. John smirked when he realise Sherlock had quoted himself, rolling his eyes at the man.
"It is indeed," John murmured, more to himself.
The two of them began their walk to the limestone pavement, it was one of Sherlock's favourite places in Britain, especially on a day like today; and school was still in term so hopefully there would be a lack of tourists around, making it quieter for them.
"What are you thinking about?" Sherlock asked John as they left the village and were heading up the path towards the pavement. John blushed, shaking his head.
"Nothing." He smiled, a huge grim, which made Sherlock want to know what he had been thinking about, something embarrassing, because he blushed, but something that he wanted, because he smiled about it.
"You're not going to tell me are you?" the detective sighed, John just smiled to himself, replying with a 'maybe', which frustrated Sherlock further. John had never been to Malham before, so the view that greeted the men at the top of the path they had been walking up took his breath away; he could see everything, the view was beautiful.
"This beautiful rock is like the age-tinted wall of a prodigious castle" Sherlock quoted Thomas West into John's ear, hugging him tightly. "You can see why I love it so much, up here; there are no high-rise buildings, no pollution, just nature in all her beauty." This was a side of Sherlock John had rarely seen, it was the human side of the man.
The two of them walked to the edge of the pavement, sitting right on the edge, their legs dangling down over the stream that was 80metres below them. "I want to grow old up here, when I've had enough." John glanced at Sherlock, the aura of happiness that had surrounded him only moments ago had gone and an air of melancholy surrounded him as he stared into the distance.
"What is it?" John asked, holding Sherlock's hand tightly. The detective jumped out of his sad state and quickly smiled down at John. Sherlock turned to John, sandwiching John's hand between his. John frowned, confused, Sherlock was pale as a sheet, shaking slightly; this worried John even more and he began to panic, looking around, trying to spot what had scared Sherlock, maybe it was the height of the cove they were dangling over...
"John…" the doctor's eyes locked with Sherlock's, his eyes wide, his heart pounding. "You know you are the most important thing to me…" even his voice was shaky; he took deep breaths to try and steady his voice. "I know I'm not perfect, and I can be heartless, but since I met you…" he stopped, trying to get his thoughts straight. "You've changed me John, in so many ways, all of them good…so…um…" Sherlock released John's hands, frisking himself.
"Sherlock?" John squeaked, his heart pounding.
"I've never been good at these kind of things," Sherlock eventually stopped fumbled around his coat once he had located what he was looking for and reached for John's hand, holding it tight. "John Hamish Watson…" he took a deep breath, his hands shaking. "Will you marry me?" Sherlock pulling his hand out of his pocket, holding out a small wooden box, letting go of John's hand to open it, inside the box was a silver band surrounded in dark velvet. Sherlock carefully removed the ring, holding it towards John in such a way he could see the inscription on the inside; Married to my work; a personal joke, John laughed, tears escaping from his eyes as Sherlock shakily slipped the ring onto John's finger before leaning in for a kiss, holding John tight, half out of passion and half out of fear he would fall over the edge.
"I love you Sherlock, and yes, a hundred times yes."
"Well that was unexpected." Both men jumped, and turned in horror, coming face to face with Moriarty and Moran.
(Sorry this chapter has taken so long to come)
Tell me what you think ^^ x
