Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 21.

John's head finally cleared after his heat, with the result that he was starving and there was nothing in the fridge. Well, not nothing, but nothing that he was prepared to eat. Sherlock had been exceptionally good about keeping him well provided with scrambled eggs during the four days of his heat, but it was also blatantly obvious that the man couldn't cook anything other than eggs on toast, with or without baked beans. John felt the urge to add a little variety to his diet, which meant a trip to the shops.

He was just comparing the nutritional information on different brands of pasta sauce when his phone pinged for a text alert. Juggling his shopping basket, he scooped it out of his pocket and read the text message.

What do you think of probiotics? SH

What? John had a lot of thoughts about probiotics, but none that could be compressed into a text message. The simplest solution would be to get some, since presumably that was why Sherlock had texted while he was at the shop, and they could discuss the merits of alternative medicine when John got home.

Do you want capsules or liquid? JW

Whichever is more biologically active. SH

John thought, Bloody hell, how should I know? I'm a doctor, not a naturopath. Then on practical grounds he decided to get the capsules. At least if there were any left after Sherlock's experiment they would keep for the next time one of them had a bout of food poisoning, which was practically inevitable.

And some lemons. At least a dozen. And whatever liquorice is used to make tea. SH

John couldn't help wondering if these were for the same experiment, and started trying to imagine what kind of death could be related to probiotics, lemons and liquorice.

What do you think about colonic cleansing? SH

Nothing that I can write in a text message. JW

This is all for you, you know. SH

John decided to pick up some lemons, some liquorice tea and ignore any other text messages from Sherlock. Whatever bizarre experiment he was designing, John was not getting him the materials for a home attempt at colonic cleansing. Especially not if he thought he was going to try it on John!

As he reached the checkout, John heard one more text alert on his phone. He was busy with the chip and pin machine and did not manage to read the message until he was standing on the footpath outside the supermarket.

Because I love you. SH

As John was staring at the message in disbelief, another one appeared on the screen.

And berries. Any kind except strawberries. SH

John flagged down a cab and ordered it to Baker Street as fast as possible.

# # # # #

John slammed into the flat, dumping the shopping bags on the floor as he crossed the living room to stand over Sherlock, who was lying on the sofa with his eyes shut.

"What the hell is this?" John waved his phone at Sherlock.

Without opening his eyes Sherlock replied, "I've been thinking, and it seems to me that you being a doctor and in love with me could all work out very well."

John crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Sherlock until he opened his eyes. "Right. How about we start this conversation from the beginning, please, while I'm here in the room? What is all this about wanting probiotics, lemons and liquorice tea because…" his voice failed him at the critical moment. John coughed and then continued in a smaller voice, "Did you mean it?"

Sherlock opened his eyes and rolled them at John. Bastard. He probably opened them just to do that.

"I would have thought it was obvious John."

"Well, would you mind stepping me through it from the start? Remember I wasn't here for the first part, and I don't see what lemons and liquorice have to do with… anything."

Sherlock swung himself around to sit on the sofa and wave his hands around as he spoke. Clearly, he had a new enthusiasm. Lemons? Berries? Or just possibly, John?

"I started thinking about Mycroft's injection. Maybe I've been going about this all wrong. I had thought that just waiting for it to wear off might be enough, but it's been years and clearly that hasn't worked. So then I started looking into 'body cleanses' and 'detoxification'. A lot of it has minimal scientific evidence behind it…"

"I'll say," interrupted John.

Sherlock shrugged, "But most of it sounds pretty innocuous. Even if it doesn't work I won't have lost anything. So I have to drink lemon water and liquorice tea for a week? I've gone longer without eating for cases, so I know that part won't be a problem. And if it works, the payoff would be… Anyway, I'm not going to let a little thing like lack of proof stand in my way. Besides, if it works you could write it up and get a paper out of it. Everyone wins."

"OK, I'm with you so far. You want to see if you can flush the chemicals out of your system. Great, good idea. What does that have to do with… your text about me?" Even now John couldn't bring himself to say it. He had the ridiculous urge to read the text on his phone again, just to make sure it was real. He'd read it already at least twenty times, but he wanted to see it again.

"John, I've been effectively celibate for years and it never bothered me. I told you when we met that I was married to my work. Why do you think I suddenly want to change that? Start cleansing and rebooting my body? Health kick?" The sarcasm in the last two words was almost visible.

John shrugged and remained silent. He wanted to hear Sherlock say it to his face and not by text, dammit!

"It's because of Irene."

John felt the eager hope in his chest sink into his belly and become something much colder and less digestible. "What about Irene?" he said, trying for a neutral tone and probably failing miserably.

Sherlock shook his head violently, "No, I didn't mean that! I meant that she was right about us, that day at the power station. We never talked about afterwards, but she said that we were a couple, that you loved me and were attracted to me."

"Yes," said John tightly, "but you've known that for a while already. Ever since that heat when I begged you to stay with me, after we confronted Moriarty. You've never seemed to think it worth mentioning before."

"And then playing the game with Irene. I thought that nothing could be better than beating her at her own game. I thought winning was what it was all about."

"And isn't it?"

"Well, winning is part of it, but not all of it. In that moment, I came home and wanted to share it with you, like I share the work with you…"

John interrupted, "So you want some kind of threesome with me sharing you with the Work?"

Sherlock shook his head violently, "No, no! That's not what I'm trying to say. You already share the work with me. You are the only one who has ever done that. Do you think I let just anyone work with me?"

"God, no."

"You are already my blogger, my flat mate, my… I want to purge myself and get over the effects of this injection so that I can be the Alpha you need." Sherlock tossed his head irritably. "I'm a genius, I can beat this. I won't offer you some kind of half man…" he trailed off into muttering in which John could not distinguish any proper words, although there was something that sounded like 'Joe' which John decided to ignore.

John sucked in a deep breath. So that was it. Sherlock really was doing this for him.

"Does that mean that you…?"

"Yes. You're a doctor and I want you to help me."

"Oh."

'I've decided to start with the basic lemon cleanse and juice fast for a week. I thought that would make the colonic cleanse part easier anyway, then if that doesn't work to follow it up with a week of organic fruit and superfoods – did you get any berries, by the way?"

"Er, no. I was already on the way home when I got that message." And my mind had been blown away by the text that we are apparently not going to discuss.

"Never mind, I'll only do that if the first part doesn't work. Of course I'll need you here to document my responses to your scent. It really is very convenient you being both an Omega and a doctor. So, anything I've missed?"

"Actually, yes."

Sherlock lifted one eyebrow and gestured for John to continue.

"You need to clean up your other habits – the smoking and nicotine patches and the coffee. I'm going to assume that you are off cocaine, but if you aren't, then that too."

Sherlock looked aghast.

John continued mercilessly, "If you are really serious about doing this fast, I suggest going cold turkey. It will be hard at the start but the results are likely to be quicker, and I get the impression that's what you want."

Sherlock swallowed. John watched the movement of his very long, pale neck and wondered where all this was going to lead. He allowed himself to wonder what it might mean if it actually worked? Sherlock would be scenting him every day as he purged his body – one day would he turn and kiss him? What about John's next heat? That was at least a month away, who knew where they would be by then? Not John, certainly.

Sherlock nodded decisively. "All right. Anything else?"

John tapped his finger on his chin. "There is some evidence that sweating out toxins may help. Ever been to a sauna?"

"No."

"Worth a try, at least you might find it relaxing even if it doesn't work in any other way." And God knows you will need relaxing if you are going cold turkey off everything.

John realized something else. This week is going to be hell…

# # # # #

Three days into the week John wanted a murder. Preferably a serial killer, but he would settle for a large bank robbery. Anything, before he had to order a hit on Sherlock himself to stop the bloody whining. Sherlock had always had a bit of a penchant for drama, but seriously, the man acted like no-one had ever quit smoking before. Admittedly, it was quite possible that no-one had ever quit smoking, coffee, cocaine and solid food all at the same time, and while trying to fight off near-terminal boredom. John was about ready to go down to the Yard and beg Lestrade for fraud cases, cold cases, anything.

John was refraining from drinking tea, in sympathy with Sherlock's total caffeine ban. They were both having liquorice tea, and it wasn't as good a substitute as John had hoped. Sherlock was drinking his lemon concoction every few hours, but John drew the line at that. There was such a thing as too much togetherness.

John himself was a little on edge as well. His stomach was unsettled from the liquorice tea, most likely. He hadn't changed anything else in his eating habits, and he certainly wasn't nervous about the outcome of Sherlock's experiment. His doctor-self knew that it was unlikely to work anyway. All these various drinks and 'detox' schemes and 'cleanses' had never been shown to do anything for anyone, especially not for a condition as serious as chemical castration.

John found himself wondering about Sherlock's range of experiences prior to the injection incident. He had never asked Sherlock how old he had been when it had happened. Mycroft had sneeringly insinuated that Sherlock was a virgin – but was it true?

"YES!" shouted Sherlock, suddenly. "I'm a virgin, I'm totally inexperienced and even if this experiment works I probably won't be able to please you as well as Joe," the name was pronounced with immense scorn, "and all the Alphas who used to fuck you in the army. So we can stop this experiment right now if you like. You may never get the lover you want out of me." Sherlock flopped down on the sofa, his face to the wall.

John was unsure which part of this speech to address first. He decided to start with the part Sherlock would be most comfortable with, since he was the one getting upset. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

Sherlock looked slightly surprised, but ever happy to display his genius he sat up and explained willingly enough, "You were looking at your tea cup with an expression of distaste, so it was clear that you were thinking about our caffeine ban and how much you want a real cup of tea. Then your eyes drifted to the kitchen but you didn't get up to make yourself one, so you were probably thinking about the lemon drinks. Then your eyes wandered back to me, first looking at my face and stomach, obviously you were wondering how I'm coping with the fasting. Then your eyes drifted down my body, clearly thinking about other aspects of the problem such as whether or not it is likely to work. I note that you frowned at this point, so you must have your doubts."

Sherlock took a deep breath before continuing, "You then glanced quickly towards the bookshelf and away, at the spot where you once suspected Mycroft hid a camera in the flat. Mycroft and my condition, other connections apart from the obvious? His comment that day at the Palace that I am a virgin. Your frown got even deeper at that point, so you were clearly wondering if going through all whole project is going to be worth it, even if it works (which it might not) only to get a lover who knows nothing about it and may not be able to please you as well as you are used to, with potentially hundreds of army Alphas on a base with you able to pick and choose between them all!" Sherlock threw up his hands in despair, "How can I compete with the pick of the Marines? Not just one at a time but three or four of them in your bed at once? I've read the advice columns on the internet for years, but have no actual hands-on experience. I've never even given or received a blow job, so you may as well give up on me now, I'll never be able to please you. Why don't you go back to Joe, or Bill, or Matt or all three at once and let them give it to you right upstairs and make me listen!" Sherlock sank back down to lie on the sofa, exhausted after his outpouring.

"That was amazing!" said John, with a smile. "You were right in all your factual deductions. That was in fact exactly what I was thinking. But you know what? You were also totally wrong."

Sherlock turned his head just enough to scowl fiercely at John.

"You were wrong in jumping to conclusions about how I would feel about your lack of experience. I don't remember frowning, but if I was it was probably because I was wondering about how to make it good for you. The first time can be a bit awkward and most people don't have good memories of it, so if it is your first time it would be an honour and a responsibility that I would take seriously." John hesitated a moment before continuing. "That being the case, it would be better if our first time took place outside of my heat. When I'm in heat I'm not as in control as I usually am, and I get pretty focused on what is going on with my own body – I wouldn't be able to pay attention to you as much as I would want to, so let's keep that in mind, eh?" John blushed suddenly at the assumption implied in his concern. "I mean, um, not that you have to give your virginity to me at all, of course. Because it might be an honour you want to bestow on someone else…"

"John, don't be an idiot, please." Sherlock returned crisply, now back on firm ground. "I'm doing this because I want to be with you. Why would I want anyone else? It isn't like I have hundreds of partners flocking around…"

John interrupted firmly, "If my history in the army is going to be a problem for you, spit it out now. Lots of people don't like the idea of their lover being 'used' before they get there, but I'm well over thirty years old, for goodness' sake. You weren't expecting me to be a virgin as well, I hope?"

Sherlock looked surprised at the idea. "Not at all. I think it is an advantage for at least one of us to know what they are doing. John, I'm a genius and a fast learner, but I'm still only one person. If you are used to being pleasured by two or three or four lovers at once, I couldn't do that. And I don't think I could share you, John. Those days would be over, for good."

John snorted. "One of the bad things about being in the army is the lack of privacy. It was rather an 'all or nothing' situation. You saw how awkward that can get when Joe turned up with Dai, and just assumed I'd be fine with it."

Sherlock glowered at the memory of that evening. "That was incredibly rude. People say I'm rude, but that was ridiculous."

"No, no," John hastened to correct him, "His behaviour was perfectly acceptable for when I was the Unit Omega. Then it seemed normal to all of us to go to bed in wingman pairs – it was more normal than not. But I'm glad that phase of my life is over, and I've no desire to return to it." John realized with a start how heartfelt that last statement was, and wondered at himself. There was a time when his life was being part of the unit, and when he could never have imagined any other future for himself. Now, he couldn't imagine going back. He was rather shocked and slightly uncomfortable at how quickly he had outgrown his past. "I've had four marines in my bed at once, yes, but I'm rather relieved that it is not likely to happen again. I don't think I could keep up with the performance pressure now."

"You really mean that," said Sherlock wonderingly.

"Yeah, now come here and kiss me," John smiled.

Sherlock stiffened in his seat without moving. "We still don't know if this is going to work. Are you sure you want to start a relationship with me?"

John's smile faded slightly, "I thought we were already in a relationship. Do you mean that without sex you don't want an intimate relationship at all? There are lots of other things we can do together to have fun, you know."

Sherlock shook his head stubbornly. "I've tried that, it doesn't work. Sooner or later you would get frustrated with my lack of response to you and you would start to hate me and it would be worse than if we had never gone there!"

Sherlock was deducing himself into near-hysteria again. John knitted his brow, wondering why Sherlock was so stubborn on this point. He marvelled that he had never noticed it before. Lack of erections did not have to mean lack of relationships, yet to Sherlock it obviously had. Was this because Sherlock placed sex on some kind of pedestal, or had he had a traumatic experience? Regretting once again his lack of deducing ability, John decided the only way to know would be to ask.

"Sherlock," asked John hesitantly, "Did you have a bad experience of some kind in the past that makes you think that? Do you really think I would hate you because of something you can't help?"

Sherlock folded his arms over his chest and looked away at the window. "Victor Trevor. He was the one friend I ever had before you. He was an Omega, and he wanted to so we tried it, this 'relationship' thing. It didn't last very long. At first he got frustrated that I never responded to him, then he started to blame me saying that I was too superior and arrogant to want the likes of him. By the end he hated me, called me 'frigid' and 'freak' and said he never wanted to set eyes on me again." Sherlock lifted one shoulder ruefully. "I don't want that to happen to us. If this doesn't work," he waved a hand down the length of his body "then we can continue as colleagues and flatmates, but not if we start an intimate relationship and it fails."

"You forgot to add one factor to your deductions," John said softly, moving across the room to Sherlock. "I'm not Victor. Even if this never goes any further, I'd still like to kiss you." John leaned close, hovering within a few inches of Sherlock's face but not touching him. "May I?"

Sherlock hesitated, "You won't hate me if I can't… If I can never…"

Their faces were so close John could feel Sherlock's breath on his cheek, warm and slightly faster than usual. "I could never hate you. I love you. Have for a long time, as you probably know."

"I know," breathed Sherlock, "I love you too. Kiss me."

Sherlock turned his head and John moved in until their lips met. They kissed slowly, and it was sweet and almost innocent. They both knew that it was not going to lead to sex, so they took their time and enjoyed it for what it was. John slid to his knees in front of where Sherlock sat on the sofa, but they discovered that made him slightly too low for convenient kissing. Sherlock urged John up onto his lap and that made their heights perfect. John threw his arms around Sherlock's neck and Sherlock wrapped his long hands around John's back, sliding them up under his jumper to gently massage his shoulder blades.

After several minutes, John pulled back a little to ask Sherlock, "Is there a reason you don't want to open your mouth to me?"

Sherlock blinked at him in surprise. "Am I supposed to do that?"

John huffed a surprised laugh, "You've never heard of French kissing?"

Sherlock blushed and looked annoyed. "Of course. I just didn't think you'd be into that." He tried to look superior and as if he was being considerate of John's lack of experience.

John bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. "French kissing isn't exactly kinky, but thank you for thinking of me. How about we give it a try and if you don't like it we can stop?"

"Mmm, all right."

John relaxed his mouth and let Sherlock experiment. At first he just formed his tongue into a point and poked it straight into John's mouth. It wasn't very sexy but it was so inexperienced and adorable that John smiled and opened his mouth a bit further. Encouraged, Sherlock next tried sweeping his tongue across John's mouth, darting in and out as if daring John to chase him. John teased him a little with the tip of his own tongue, touching and withdrawing again out of reach.

After a few minutes of mutual teasing and exploration, John decided to take matters into his own hands (and lips) and show Sherlock how it needed to be done. Giving in and taking what he had wanted for so long, John slid one hand into Sherlock's curls and the other up under his shirt and around his back. Controlling Sherlock's head and pressing their bodies together, John took several long delicious minutes to demonstrate how kissing one's lover really ought to be enjoyed.

When John finally drew back his head, Sherlock had his eyes closed and was panting through his parted lips. Gorgeous, wet, heart-shaped lips. John gave them one last kiss, then slid off Sherlock's lap and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on then, time for another sauna. I want to give this every chance to work, so let's do it by the book, eh?" John said.

Sherlock shook his head to clear it. "Yes, definitely. Every chance. Absolutely."

A/N: Yes, I'm afraid I'm showing my nerd credentials in this chapter. Kudos to those of you who picked up the Star Trek and ACD canon references! Also, I just love the idea of Sherlock declaring his intentions by text message – it got into my head until I just had to write it!