No surveillance this time. Make good use of the opportunity. M.H.

Shut up. S.H.

They had reached Lincolnshire by noon the next day and now John was making tea in the kitchen and Sherlock was lying on the couch lazily. John was against this but Sherlock insisted. He wanted to watch John, he didn't want to miss one moment of this stay. As if he was compensating not seeing John for some days.

"You should really lie down on the bed you know, you look exhausted." John said putting tea and biscuits on the table in front. Sherlock propped himself up on his elbows and looked at John who was looking for a place to sit facing Sherlock, the arm chairs were too heavy to move. Sherlock's movement ended his dilemma. He sat on the sofa with the curly haired head on his lap.

"Ummmmmmmm." Sherlock sounded contended as he rubbed his head against John's lap and closed his eyes.

John took a cup and held it with both hands avoiding touching Sherlock purposefully.

"Do you hear that John?"

John listened intently for a while, there was nothing.

"No, what?"

"Nothing." Said Sherlock taking a deep relaxing breath and closing his eyes again.

"You hate silence Sherlock." Said John grinning at the very catlike consulting detective in his lap.

"Not when the only sound is your breathing." Sherlock said looking into John's eyes in a voice like silk.

John controlled the impulse of splattering the tea all over them and spoke in an utterly surprised voice "Sherlock Holmes do you even know how utterly romantic that just sounded?" and he started laughing.

"It did. Didn't it?" Said Sherlock grinning.

He turned to his side and hid his face in John's wool covered stomach and breathed. The sensation made John's hand's shake a little. He put down the cup but still didn't touch Sherlock. Sherlock put his arms around John's waist with some effort and pressed his face some more to his stomach and growled. When John still didn't comply he wriggled suggestively. John could feel him pouting. With a small laugh he complied. He started stroking his curls with one hand and rested the other on the small of Sherlock's back. Sherlock was warm. Very warm. Sherlock gave out a contended sigh. After a while he spoke

"Mum used to do that." His voice muffled buried in John sweater.

"Do you miss her?"

"More when I'm with you." Sherlock said breathily. John knew Sherlock was falling asleep, the journey had exhausted him. He drew lines on his scalp softly and stroked his back with the other hand. Within a few moments the man on his lap was breathing deeply, he was asleep. John carefully retrieved the cup back and sipped contemplating.

Sherlock fell asleep in my lap. How incredible is that? Be like this always Sherlock.

As if on cue Sherlock hummed in his sleep. He was dreaming. Continuing to stroke those beautiful soft curls John started to daydream himself.

Sherlock felt cold and uncomfortable, he woke up slowly to find himself in John's lap on the sofa. It was getting dark outside and cold inside. John was looking at him with an amused smile.

"Hi." Said Sherlock smiling sleepily.

"Hi, feeling better?"

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"For a few hours."

"God! You must be starving and cold! I'm so sorry John." Sherlock said hurriedly getting up and winding in pain.

"Relax! I'm fine, you are the one who should get some food now." John said anxiously helping Sherlock.

"I don't remember sleeping that good, excluding the times being under the influence of any kind of drug that is." Sherlock said matter-of-factly. To which John quirked and eyebrow.

"I'm glad that you did but I don't think my back will agree to this on a regular basis." He said rubbing his stiffened back.

"I'll make you tea." Said Sherlock smiling shyly.

Oh you're adorable. "Sit, have your medicine, let me change your bandage."

Sherlock obeyed.

"Thank you" said John as he finished bandaging Sherlock's wound afresh. Sherlock who was looking at him intently quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

John didn't see it and as he was getting up from the sofa he was pulled back firmly by the lying detective.

"I am the one who should thank you!" said Sherlock bemused.

"Oh! It was because you were being a good boy." Explained John "listening to everything I said."

Sherlock gave a childish smile and tugged at John's hands again. John bent down and kissed him on the forehead lightly. Sherlock didn't let go of his hand, he was eager for more. John laughed and tore away from his grip making his way to the kitchen. Dinner was ready and put in the microwave. He started about setting the table when he felt a very warm presence in the room. He smiled and said without looking,

"What is it now?"

The answer was an overwhelming hug from behind him. A warm face pressed into his neck, two long hands snaked around his torso firmly and a deep humming noise from a rich baritone.

John tilted his head backward and made an exasperated sound.

"Let go Sherlock, you have to eat now." He said affectionately.

"But I've been a good boy! I deserve a reward!" came a very demanding reply from behind.

He sighed and turned around. He took Sherlock's face in his hands. Sherlock's eyes gleamed in anticipation. John put his lips on Sherlock's for a quick chaste kiss and pulled away forcing Sherlock's hands away from him. Sherlock pouted, reluctant to let go, evidently not happy with the length of the kiss.

"Now you're being a bad boy. No kiss for a week then."

He let go hurriedly and sat at the table grouchily.

"This is stupid."

John gave him a stern look. To which he replied.

"I'm a grown man!"

"Then behave like one!" said John exasperated.

Then Sherlock did what he did best. He started sulking.

John turned his full attention to the work at hand. Musing on the change that had come over them both in such little time. He wasn't nervous around Sherlock anymore and Sherlock was openly childish. He felt good. He felt at ease.

"Eat."

"Nope."

"You're being a bad boy again."

"Yes. I've lost one week, I'm compensating."

"Oh come on! It was a joke!"

"really?" Sherlock said quirking up an eyebrow.

"Yes, now please eat."

Sherlock started fiddling with his food.

John saw it and like the nanny he thought he was as always he took a spoonful of pasta from his own plate and held it in front of Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock looked up and in a moment cleaned the spoon down and said,

"I'm so hungry John!"

There we go! Thought John as he fed a full plate to the hungry man in front of him. Along went the salad.

After putting a contended looking Sherlock to bed John felt his duties for the day were over. He was extremely tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep. He trudged through the daily chores like changing and brushing and felt relieved as soon as his back touched the soft mattress on the plush Victorian bed. But to his utter dismay he found that he couldn't sleep. He was bothered about Sherlock. He had left his door ajar just in case Sherlock wanted something and called. Yet he didn't feel it sufficient.

Maybe I should have asked to stay there with him. He wouldn't mind. but that would be too…too intimate. Oh heck we are in a relationship!

He kept arguing with himself for a long time until he heard a small creak of the door and feather light footsteps approaching his bed. He instinctively removed the duvet from the other side of the bed knowing fully who he was inviting. He felt the mattress sink a bit with the weight of the long lean figure. He turned around and covered Sherlock properly.

"I couldn't…"

"Shh." He stroked the curls and settled down, sleep inviting him again. As soon as he was almost drifting off he felt a warm curly haired head resting against his chest, his body wrapped in long limbs protectively. He let out a deep comforting breath and rested his head on the curls and drifted off.