Sherlock December 23rd, 2014.

I had invited Lestrade, Molly, John, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson over for drinks to celebrate the holiday. John was thinking about doing it at his flat but I told him that 221B could use more visits and Mrs. Hudson's hip was in pain so she didn't want to go too far. What I didn't tell him was Irene had asked me what I was doing so I had told her I was going to John's but really I was waiting for her here. I came to the conclusion that she had left something important here but I wasn't sure what or where. I don't understand why she has to do that with me.

"Why didn't you invite your brother Sherlock?" Mary placed a bag of gifts on the table. Her and John were late. They had been fighting. It can only be about John working with me so much at odd hours.

John laughed at his wife's question.

"We don't get on well."

"Oh." She was very angry and trying to hide it.

"Would you like some wine Mary?" Molly was acting obviously nervous. She dislikes being around John, Mary, and I all at once. It's strange because nothing has ever happened.

"Thank you, I'll get it myself though."

"This is your second year as a married couple on Christmas, right dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Yes-"

"Mmm no more confirmed bachelor John Watson." Irene had a large grin as she entered the room. "Oh Sherlock, I should have known you lied."

"Of course I did."

John was utterly confused, looking between her and I.

"You left something, I don't know what or where but I know there's something." I hated that she could fool me.

"You do know why he hated the term?"

"What? Oh confirmed bachelor? Yes, because in the Victorian times if often meant homosexual." I watched Irene, seeing if she'd give me a tell to where she was hiding whatever it was. "Don't be an idiot, of course that's why."

"I actually didn't know that and, um, Irene you're dead!" John stood up. He was now aggravated with Irene and me. "Mary this is Irene Adler-who should be dead."

"Hello Mary." Irene laughed, sitting on the couch. "Sherlock why didn't you just tell him that I was alive?"

"I told you I'd help you disappear."

"I thought you were upset when she supposedly died. That's it. No one is fake dying anymore for any reasons. I don't even care about you Irene but for his sake and my sanity don't die." He was very agitated.

"I'm sorry John, Mr. Yaakov here has put me in a terrible position of ruining a lovely holiday." She was pressed her lips together. "While I'm here I might as well have a drink. Mind dear?" She cocked an eyebrow at me.

"I'll get you one for you once you tell me what's hidden and where it is."

"Again with the hiding and keeping things with you two. Can you just get married and be over with it? Also Yaakov?"

"You don't tell our poor Doctor anything." Irene shook her head. "You know your first blog post, after the fall when a Yaakov Holender commented and you said he sounded like Sherlock? That was Sherlock. I was Adrian Irvine, the one who told you Sherlock disappeared, well died then, for you. I thought maybe you'd make some connection with our names." She crossed her legs.

"Yaakov?" John tried to figure out the meaning.

"Old Hebrew for Hamish."

He smiled then bit his lip, "Right, your first son's name. Perfect" He crossed his arms. Not understanding that I was thinking about him, not Irene. "I thought you couldn't contact me? Were you two hunting Moriarty's people down together?" Anger.

"That's one hell of a team." Lestrade tipped his glass in my direction.

"I wasn't supposed to contact you. And no, we weren't working together."

"Don't worry John, only you can be his partner." I knew she wasn't referring to just business. Irene enjoys innuendo. "I only provided him with some leads and a couch as well when he was in near me."

"Sure you offered him the bed." Tight lips, jerky hand movements, and he hasn't taken his eyes away from Irene the entire conversation. Jealously. I've seen him this way before.

"Ha, of course." Irene stood back up. "I do have to get going and I'd like to leave you to your party." She touched my shoulder. "I guess I'll just have to take it and you won't follow me because you're trying to be a good host." She moved over to my mantle, picked up the skull, and took a flash drive.

"Don't tell me those are missile codes."

"Of course not, don't worry, it's not a national security risk." Irene kissed me on the cheek. "Happy Christmas."

"What is it?"

"I have to go to Russia now." She headed for the stairs.

"Irene!"

"Bye dear! See you soon." I thought about following but I stayed because she was right about her earlier deduction.

"Never a dull moment." Lestrade poured Molly a drink. They were going to be having coitus later.

"Why didn't you tell me you contacted me?" John moved closer, this was a private conversation that we were going to have in a room with others. "You could have emailed me, told me-I would have-"

"We've gone through this 3 times." I looked over to Mary and she was showing all the signs of jealousy too, like there was something going on between John and I. Maybe she thought that he was cheating with me, which is crazy. Or it might not be. She might be able to see the slightest attraction that we show each other. She doesn't need to worry about that though because he's convinced himself that being sexually attracted to me is wrong.

Since I've been back he's been sexually aroused 3 times with me and each time he is totally disgusted with myself within a matter of 30 seconds. I wish I were able to tell Mary not to worry because if she doesn't trust me she'll stop letting him come out on cases. I would probably find it enjoyable if we had a physical relationship but it's more important to me that I have him around for intellectual purposes and friendship. I can live without it as long as it means I can have John around because 2 years and 4 months without him was enough.

He nodded. "Yeah, yeah, ok." It wasn't ok.

"I wanted to tell you."

"Ok." He frowned and turned his back to me.

"Let's open the presents!" Mrs. Hudson said gleefully.

John. Earlier in the day.

"You moaned his name last night." Mary had her back to me as she finished wrapping the last of the presents while I was reading the paper in the living room. She spoke like it was weighing on her all day.

"What?" I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had a dream last night about him, the type of dream I really rather not be having. I haven't since he came back home.

"You actually moaned it, sounded like you were having a bloody good shag." She turned to me with a snap.

I could feel my face getting warm. "That's disgusting Mary, he's my best mate."

"Then stop saying his name in your sleep."

"What?"

"This isn't the first time. You do it a lot-you just never sounded like you were in the middle of a shag before. I thought it'd stop when he came back but it hasn't."

"I didn't-why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you get stroppy over him."

"You're my wife, aren't we supposed to talk about these things?" I folded up the paper and set it aside.

"John, you're painfully annoying when it comes to him. All you talk about is what Sherlock is doing, what he did, your cases with him then I say something and you snap…Don't you hear yourself when I make a small comment about how you mention him?"

"He's my best-mate." I cleared my throat. "If you want me to stop, tell me when I'm talking about him, I won't be an arse to you anymore, I promise."

"You love him so much." I could see tears welling in her eyes. "Why don't you stay there until you miss me like you missed him."

"Mary, don't-"

"You love him more than you'll ever love me."

"I love him in a completely different way." This was the first time I even said I loved Sherlock out loud to someone else-other than his headstone but that's not a person. "But I love you more than I'd ever love him." As the words left my mouth I could hear how insincere they were.

"I'm serious, you can stay at 221B tonight."

"Mary, it's Christmas."

She just shrugged.

"Don't be like this."

"Then stop and just admit it you're in love with your bloody best mate you arse!" She yelled.

"I'm not! Not like you're saying."

"Ok, ok…" She shook her head then wiped her eyes, "Let's go. I just need to fix myself."

"You're still going?"

"Your friends will talk."

"My friends aren't much for gossip."

"No, I'll have a few drinks then leave with a headache but you can stay."

"I'm not staying."

"I need you to. I need some space."

She did leave with her fake headache after a very uncomfortable two hours of trying to be happy. Once everyone headed home Sherlock and I took our former places in our chairs, "Why are you fighting with Mary?" Of course he knew.

"It's nothing Sherlock, can we talk about how you saved Irene?"

"I thought friends were supposed to talk about their problems." He took a drink of wine.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it about me?"

I swallowed hard. I can't have this conversation with him. It won't go anywhere.

"You don't have to come on cases with me anymore, it's ok." He smiled, one of his fake ones which he gives when he thinks he's helping me.

"No, no." I shook my head. "It is about you though."

Sherlock shot up from his chair, "I'm sorry." He began to pace.

It was quite for a few minutes, "When are you and Irene just going to elope?"

"You know full well I have zero sexual or marital interest in her. I enjoy her mind at times, she's quite fascinating but I'm not in love with her. She was very helpful with taking down the web too."

"I know I'm going to repeat myself for the hundredth time and bore you but I wish you contacted me while you were away."

He stopped in front of me.

"Not as Yaakov."

"Oh. I know."

"It's ok, you don't have to say anything else."

"I assume you're staying the night?"

"Yeah, I'll take me old bed."

"Um, you might want to rethink that. Not that you're not welcome to spend the night because that would-nice, very nice but you're bed is…"

"What'd you do to my bed Sherlock?" I sighed.

"I need the springs for an experiment."

"You tore it apart?

"Yes. You can stay in my bed."

Yeah, that'll be great to sleep a few inches from the man I love and the one I tell everyone and myself that I don't and the one my wife kicked me out of the house over. "Sure?"

"It's a large enough bed. Plus I can't seem to shake the chill out of the flat so body heat could come in handy tonight."

"You will sleep with clothes on?"

He looked like it'd be a hard task. In my subconscious he never wears clothes in bed-or many other places but I can't have that in real life. "Yes."

"Ok then."

"I'm knackered from all this wine, I'll see you in bed."

I took a few minutes to collect myself because hearing him say, 'I'll see you in bed', threw me off a bit. This was probably a horrible idea on my part, I could sleep on the sofa and it'd fine. I'd probably be tired but that's ok. My back would hurt.

I would be fine sleeping in his bed, its not like we're going to have sex. What if he wants to have sex? Would I? This is stupid. I just want to go to sleep. He's been in my bed plenty of times and nothing happened. I could go back home but I really don't feel like arguing anymore with Mary. It's ok.

I went into my old room to see if I could scare up some clothes I may have left behind. It was covered into remnants of my mattress as well as 4 crash test dummies and various papers and books. In the dresser I found an old worn rugby shirt and shorts.

After I got changed I moved slowly to his room. I always liked how it smelt, his soap, cigarettes, and a lingering hint of citrus. He was lying on the right side of the bed sitting against the headboard with his laptop on his thighs. I always thought he slept on the left. I climbed and got into a position so my back was to him. A few minutes later he shut the light then put his laptop on the side table. "John?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"I've been thinking for sometime-" Oh great here it is, "Why does my coat make you upset? I see it on your face every time I wear it around you."

Oh thank god. But fuck, this wasn't a question I wanted either.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk because you probably want to sleep. But there is something about sharing a bed with someone that is intimate and makes you want to talk."

"No, no, it's fine. I'm not sure how to answer it."

"You don't have to then."

I rubbed my face before rolling over to look at him, "It's just that…Molly gave it to me after you jumped and I-" I was actually going to tell him this, "I used it every so often when I was really sad to...remember you."

I could see his blue eyes sparkle in the dark. "That's-good." Wrong word for him to use but I looked by it. "I just wondered. Would you like me to get another coat?"

"Of course not."

"Good because I rather like this one." He laughed. "Do you truly like being normal and married?"

"Yeah."

"So boring."

I took a deep breath. I had to do it once, just once and then I'd be done with it. It'd be out of my system and why not do it right now? So I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. He tasted like toothpaste with remnants of his wine, not tea and cigarettes like I had always imagined but his lips were as warm and soft as I had thought.

He was shocked. I was shocked with myself too.

I pulled away, "Um, good night then."

"Yes, ah, good night." He choked out.

It took me 2 more hours to fall asleep, it sounded like it took him about 20 minutes. I didn't have any sexual dreams about him and that's good because I'd hate to have him hear me call out his name.

The next morning I left before he woke up, there was no way we were going to have a discussion about it because Sherlock can't express his feelings so he'd say it was fine and that'd be that or it'd be very awkward. I walked home from Baker Street because I needed to think.

The day before felt like a bad dream but it wasn't. I really fought with Mary about Sherlock, Irene came back into my life and I guess that's not bad but strange, and then I kissed Sherlock.

I had to put it all behind me. If Sherlock loved me back we probably would have talked about it that night. So it's all sorted, no more thinking about him that way. Be happy with my wife and normal life.

"So you missed me more than you missed him?" Mary asked as I walk in the door.

I don't think I can bring myself to tell Mary how I truly feel about Sherlock so I lied, "Of course I did. I was going to come back in the middle of the night but I didn't want to scare you."

She smiled before kissing me. At least this row was over fairly quickly. "The reason I was freaking out is because I thought I was pregnant and then I heard you have that dream…I don't know, I just over reacted."

My stomach dropped. "You're not?"

"No, false alarm."

"Do you want to be?"

"Did you want me to be?"

"I don't know…we're getting a bit old for 'em aren't we?"

"I guess." She shrugged.

"If you were though I'd be thrill." Well that was a lie I didn't even want to say out loud, it sort of just fell out of my mouth.

As I was packing for her family's I realised I missed 221B more than I thought and I wanted to kiss Sherlock again, more and better. This wasn't good. I needed to stay away from him and the old flat for a while.