A/N: I am terribly unsure of this chapter. I know that after the last one, the action was bound to move... forward. But I still feel kind of weird with what's to come. Let me know if it turned out okay! :) Onto the reviews now...

artemis7448: Actually, I've thought about doing the Abominable Bride, and I think that I will -sometime in the future. I don't have time to write even regular chapters, so I want to focus on the story itself, but it's actually a great idea in general :)

Purplestan: I know... I feel you :D

Guest: Hmm... The chapter is probably going to be both :D

crzychigurl343: I'm so, so happy you noticed that! I honestly think that this is the most important part about Sherlock falling in love... Your comment made me super happy!

KittyBear98: We all are... muahahaha

WanderingSoprano: I'm very happy to hear that! This was, by far, my favourite moment in the entire story :) I hope you'll like this one too!

Ridethelightning26: You're so welcome! It's been a pure joy to write this and step up my game as a writer... I'm so happy that you like it this much! Thank you!

And now... ENJOY! :)

"Are you ready to stop crying and tell me what happened? It's been a day," Olivia's voice reached her ears, but it did nothing to soothe her.

It was so, so annoying, to be completely unable to stop the tears that kept rolling down her cheeks. She felt almost as though she became an empty shell, which only function was to produce extreme amount of liquid.

"Fuck… What happened to the idea of not falling for him, sweetheart?" Liv asked and sat down beside her. "What did he do this time?"

"He's gone," Victoria managed to say, and it instantly made her cry some more. Saying it out loud felt… horrible and heart-breaking.

She didn't want him to be gone. She wanted him to break into her apartment and to go through all of her things, trying to find something he'd lost, like nothing had ever happened. Hell, he could even shoot up her walls, if only it had meant that he was here. With her.

If Victoria could take back that kiss, just to bring him home, she would have. Because then she would actually be able to stop clinging to that memory, as if it were her life boat. She could just let herself love him and hope that maybe they could share another kiss, or maybe even dozens of them. Anything would have been better, than sitting in Olivia's apartment and thinking that the man she had grown to love, against all odds, was gone.

"I'll never see him again," she whispered and covered her face, feeling dizzy as hell.

God… He was gone. What was she going to do?! How was she supposed to forget about someone so brilliant, so mesmerising, so… so Sherlock?

"Um…" Olivia muttered and scratched her head. "Are you sure about that?"

Of course she was. She'd seen him board that fucking plane and she'd seen that same plane take off. Sherlock might have been crazy in a way, but even he wouldn't have come up with a plan to escape his awful fate, just because he sported some feelings for her. He claimed to be a high functioning sociopath, but he still grasped the concept of the right and wrong, even if he had chosen to ignore it once in a while. He must have known all along that shooting Charles Augustus Magnussen would be the end of his career, of his freedom. And he'd still done it. For Mary. For… for her.

"I'm sure, Liv. I wouldn't have turned into such a cry baby otherwise," Victoria said and forced herself to look at her friend.

What surprised her, was that Olivia stared at her with a very weird expression; definitely not the one she would have expected from someone, who was supposed to feel sorry for her.

"Then why is he texting you?"

Victoria blinked in utter confusion and then she glanced towards her phone. She couldn't care less for all of the text messages and phone calls she'd received since Sherlock's departure, because… Well, her heart was bleeding. And her eyes were constantly blurred with all those tears that kept flowing. It never occurred to her that he would still seek contact with her, after… After they've "said" their goodbyes. She couldn't even remember what happened after he'd taken a step back and turned around, but she was sure that he'd never mentioned wanting to keep in touch.

She jumped to her feet and reached for the phone, unlocking it impatiently. Her heart was beating so fast that she had to take a deep breath, just to make sure that it wouldn't burst from all the pent up anxiousness and hope she felt in that precise moment.

He texted her. Victoria almost couldn't believe her own eyes, so she glanced at Olivia, who grinned like a Cheshire cat, clearly finding her friend's confusion incredibly funny. Radcliffe looked at the phone again, noticing how shaky her hands were. Did she want to open that message? Did she want to read it? What if… What if it was just his last text, just another proof of his exile?

Hell, she had to know. There was no other choice. She took a deep breath and opened the text.

We have a case. BS, ASAP. – SH

"What on Earth…" she muttered and wiped away the rest of her tears. Maybe she was just hallucinating? "Liv… Could you please read it out loud?"

"It says… We have a case. BS, ASAP."

"Fuck me!" Victoria exclaimed and dropped down to the couch, suddenly unable to stand.

"I'd rather… not?" Liv said and giggled. "Why can't you just go to BS right now and get some?"

"Why isn't he gone… I've seen him board that plane… I…"

"Don't you think that it would be a better idea to just, you know… ask him?"

Victoria looked at her friend blankly and then she bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly.

"He kissed me, Liv."

Olivia stopped smiling for a moment, only to squeal in delight a second later. Victoria realised that telling her friend might have been a terrible idea, but it was already too late. The girl sat down beside her and leaned forward with her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"How was it?!"

Victoria opened her mouth and closed it again. A frown appeared on her forehead, while she tried to come up with an eligible answer. The kiss… In a way, it was indescribable. It probably looked like any other, at least from a distance, but to her… To her it felt completely different. She vaguely remembered the taste of his lips and his scent, overwhelming her senses for a moment. Or the way his body brushed against her one or two times… All these things were everything to her, but they wouldn't really matter to anyone else, who didn't understand Sherlock like she did.

The kiss wasn't heated, or passionate. Her body didn't ache from all the pent up arousal and excitement; instead it was frozen in shock, and completely overwhelmed with the mere fact that Sherlock not only touched her, but also decided to do something that plagued her dreams for quite some time now. He kissed her, and even though it wasn't the best kiss she'd ever had, it made her heart race and her blood boil.

"It was everything," she answered and blinked, trying to push aside her feelings that threatened to erupt once more.

"Then why the fuck are you still here?!" Olivia asked and Victoria looked down to her hands.

She probably should have rushed out of the apartment the second she'd seen that text, but… Well, nothing had ever been simple with Sherlock. Even though she felt ecstatic that he had kissed her, he probably wouldn't have done it, if he wasn't facing an exile, with no chances of ever going back home. That wasn't the case anymore. Something happened, and Sherlock was still in London, probably with no need to expand their relationship even more. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but the kiss changed nothing. For him, at least. He'd probably already forgotten about this whole ordeal and returned to his usual state of mind – one that was focused on crimes and mysteries, rather than such toxic things as feelings. But she? Victoria couldn't go back. She couldn't forget about the kiss, or him in general. Her tears and despair testified to that.

"It's not going to be the beginning of a wonderful relationship, or whatever you think could happen," Victoria said and sighed. "He'll probably say that it was just an experiment. Or a terrible outcome of drug abuse. He's not going to… to love me."

"So what?" Olivia said and shrugged. "We both know it's bullshit. You didn't force him to shove his tongue down your throat, did you?"

"He didn't… I… Liv, it's complicated, alright?"

"So make it uncomplicated. You're solving crimes for a living. Don't tell me you're going to act like a chicken, because of some moronic guy."

Olivia Lawson was one of a kind. Not only did she have a certain ability to dismiss most of her problems, like they were nothing. She also could do that for other people as well. She even dared to call Sherlock Holmes a moron, making Victoria feel slightly better.

"I guess not."

"Then get up and show him what you've got."

"Yeah… I'll do that," Victoria answered and smiled weakly, ignoring the sudden flutter of her heart.

Baker Street was awfully quiet. Victoria kind of expected it to be bustling with sounds of heated conversations, or anything else that might have pointed to Sherlock's miraculous return. She entered the house, closing the door behind her and listening to the deafening silence. For a moment, she stood completely still, too afraid to move. Maybe it was just a very sick joke? Maybe someone wanted to prank her in the most cruel way?

Just like that, the sound of violin reached her ears, almost causing her mind to spin out of control. Sherlock was here. And he was playing that tune from a while back; from the day that she had first noticed how dangerous he could become, if she wasn't careful. Victoria swallowed hard and slowly moved forward, not even trying to conceal her presence. He probably already knew she was here, which is why he had chosen to play that particular song.

With a racing heart and sweating palms, she entered the apartment and her eyes immediately scanned the room for his lean silhouette. He was standing by the window, just as he always was, when he played his violin. Dressed in his usual suit, he looked exactly like she remembered. Victoria wanted to smack herself, because he really wasn't gone much longer than a day; yet her heart certainly felt as if the situation had been entirely different.

What was she supposed to do? Interrupt him? Or maybe stand in the doorway, waiting for him to speak and disperse all of her remaining doubts that he wasn't real.

"What took you so long?" he asked, relieving her of the impossible decision. "I've sent you a text hours ago."

"I was busy," she managed to say, and her tone immediately caught Sherlock's attention.

He spun around and furrowed his brows, when he noticed the redness of her eyes and the paleness of her skin.

"With what? Crying?"

And there it was… Sherlock Holmes and his genius deductions about the things he had no clue about. He seemed genuinely surprised to find her in such a pitiful state, like nothing had ever happened between them. Like he wasn't supposed to be halfway through Europe by now.

"First of all, Sherlock… What the fuck?" she asked, completely ignoring his question. "Why are you here? How can it be possible?"

"Haven't you seen that ridiculous video?" he said and smirked. "Moriarty's face was displayed on every screen in the country. How did you manage to miss it?"

"I was busy," she repeated and clenched her fists, feeling the first drops of anger starting to boil in her stomach.

"You were crying. Why?"

Victoria closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She was angry, even though she wasn't supposed to. It wasn't like she expected Sherlock to act like a love struck fool, now that they had kissed. But how could he completely omit the importance of that moment?! He wasn't blind. He must have seen her feelings, and he clearly had some of his own. Otherwise he wouldn't have… He…

"I thought I'd never see you again, you fool," she whispered angrily and opened her eyes, only to see him walking up to her slowly. "I thought that you were going to be dead in six months and I certainly didn't think you'd text me from the exile."

"You do realise that no amount of tears could have brought me back, right?"

"Really? It seems to have worked like a charm," Victoria mocked and frowned. "You insensitive prick. People tend to cry whenever they feel like they'd lost someone they cared about. Of course I cried."

Sherlock stopped in front of her and clasped hands behind his back. He obviously tried to make sense out of her words, which only made her angrier. She wasn't speaking fucking Chinese, and even if she were, he would still be able to understand it perfectly. Why couldn't he get it through his thick head that…

"I didn't want you to."

Her inner musings stopped at once, and her vision blurred again, when a new set of tears had found its way into her eyes. Victoria didn't really want to start crying again, but then she couldn't exactly help it. Not when he was so close that she could smell him. Not when she kept gazing at his lips, knowing that just hours ago they were touching her own. He was here and she was so incredibly relieved.

It still didn't answer any of the other questions circling her mind. Victoria still wanted to know why Mycroft had decided to bring his brother back from the exile, even before it had fully started. She still wanted to make sure that Sherlock wasn't just going to leave tomorrow, or the day after. But most of all, she just wanted to understand why he had kissed her.

"Why?" she asked quietly and he smiled excitedly.

"Yes, that's a very good question. Moriarty has always proven himself smart, almost unbelievably so. But I certainly didn't expect him to foresee his death, or to plan something in case he hasn't made it." He sounded like a child that had been gifted with an earlier Christmas present. Victoria would probably roll her eyes and mock him, but she felt too anxious and nauseous to do it.

"I'm not talking about Moriarty, Sherlock," she stated calmly. "I want to know why did you kiss me?"

"Oh," he replied and tilted his head to the side. His mouth flew open for a moment, and then he closed it again. "Oooh."

Victoria sighed and covered her eyes, feeling utterly stupid. What was she thinking? That he would suddenly learn how to speak emotions? Or, even better, the language of love? Hell, even she couldn't speak it most of the time. But she certainly wasn't daft enough to think that kissing someone can happen without any consequences.

She opened her eyes and brushed past him, moving towards her couch. She plopped down onto it and fixed her gaze at the ceiling, which looked as uninteresting as ever. It was still better than staring at Sherlock and his ridiculous, lost expression.

"I did, didn't I?" he muttered after a long moment of silence and she snorted mockingly. Anything else would probably make her cry again. "But what for?"

"You tell me, Holmes," she hissed angrily and clenched her fists.

"You kissed me back," he said, ignoring her anger. He turned towards her immediately and pointed his finger at her. "Victoria Radcliffe, I believe you have feelings for me."

God, why was she here? Why was it happening? Victoria really didn't know what was worse. The fact that he had apparently already forgotten about their kiss, or the fact that he blatantly accused her of having feelings for him, without even stopping to think about it for a second.

"What a brilliant deduction. Well done," she said and shook her head. "I obviously do, otherwise I wouldn't put up with all your crap. But it was you who kissed me. Why?"

Sherlock stood still for a moment, looking straight at her with an unreadable expression. Finally, he furrowed his brows and said:

"I wanted to."

Victoria almost couldn't believe it. Sherlock Holmes had just admitted that kissing her wasn't just an act of pity, or something relatively stupid. Her heart skipped a beat, but she stopped herself from becoming ecstatic. He could still ruin everything, after all.

"You wanted to," she repeated cautiously and he blinked.

"That seems to be the case, yes."

"Since when do you want to do such things?" she asked mockingly, and Sherlock's expression changed to a more thoughtful one.

It was so like Sherlock to think that he could find a logical explanation to something so unpredictable like feelings.

"A while. Although I cannot pinpoint the exact moment of that unexpected change, I presume it happened sometime after I've met you."

"You presume."

"Yes. Is your hearing impaired? Why do you feel the need to repeat everything I say?" he asked, clearly annoyed and Victoria couldn't stop herself from giggling.

"Let me explain… You've just admitted not only to kissing me, but also to kissing me, because you felt like it. You. Sherlock Holmes. The man who's considering himself married to his work," Victoria said and raised her eyebrows. "Do you see why am I surprised?"

Sherlock didn't answer, so the woman sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the knees. He was so bloody difficult. Infuriating even. Talking about feelings couldn't be easy, but talking about feelings with someone, who had only just began grasping the concept behind them was… tiring; yet she couldn't stop her heart from dancing happily in her chest.

She expected him to be in a complete denial. She even suspected that he would stand by some ridiculous theory that the kiss had been the outcome of his drug overuse and a temporary lack of judgement –anything that could mean he wasn't entirely responsible for it.

Victoria was wrong. Sherlock was far from denying anything –quite the opposite in fact. He seemed unable to fully understand the magnitude of that brief moment, but he certainly realised that it wasn't something meaningless.

"I'm still married to my work. And I certainly don't understand why, after all this time, my usually logical mind decided to focus on something else. You."

She forced herself to look at him, only to notice that exact same expression of fascination she had spotted upon his face a while ago. This time, he wasn't teaching her how to dance. He was looking at her, like she was the only interesting thing in the room.

Shivers ran up her spine, and she stood up. Sherlock moved, before she could take the first step, closing the distance between them. Victoria thought she had never seen him this hesitant and unsure of anything. For a moment she started to debate, whether she shouldn't simply let him be for a while, so he could adjust. But then, their relations had been tense for quite some time now. She might have tried to ignore the obvious signs of the forming attraction, because she still hoped that maybe there was hope for her and her reckless heart.

But there was no hope. Not when she was so far gone. Sherlock's mother made her realise that simple, undeniable fact and Victoria felt like she couldn't wait anymore. She wanted to know, even if it was selfish. Even if it could lead to a broken heart. Nothing seemed worse than knowing that the man she loved was supposed to die. She couldn't simply forego the opportunity, could she?

"I never stood in the way of your work, did I?" she said and Holmes smiled crookedly.

"No, you've proved yourself much more useful, than Watson."

"But I'm a distraction."

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you got rid of me, like you usually do with distractions?" she asked and took a step closer.

Her stomach clenched almost to the point of pain, but she welcomed the sensation. It matched her racing heart, uneven breathing and chaos swirling around her mind. He was so, so close… All it would take for her to touch him, was to raise her hand slightly.

She didn't though. She stood still and waited for his response, as things could still take a rapid turn for the worse. Sherlock Holmes had never been particularly predictable, especially when it came to social interactions.

"Because I didn't want to," he answered and frowned. "People often consider me to be a freak. Or an interesting scientific case. I'm used to it and I don't crave their admiration. Frankly, I believe them to be morons. Not you, though. Never you. You let me get away with things that most people would hate me for. Maybe that's why I've grown to tolerate you and then… And then even appreciate you."

"Sherlock…" Victoria said softly, but he ignored her completely. He seemed lost in thoughts, and unaware of the sudden change of her expression.

"You made me question the way I've perceived things. I thought it was impossible to do what I do, and allow myself to… to feel. After all, sentiment is what makes people act stupid, reckless and completely illogical. Sentiment kills people," he said and rolled his eyes, while Victoria crossed her arms.

"Exile can do that to."

"Sentiment led to the exile, Victoria," Sherlock answered and looked down for a moment. "But I would have made that mistake even without you and Mary. I failed to notice the obvious, which… well, apparently happens."

Victoria smiled and nodded her head.

"Yes, it does. And you're mostly unaware of it," she said, thinking about all those times when he misinterpreted her emotions or actions.

He probably should have realised that she had feelings for him weeks ago. Maybe he even did –he just decided to ignore the most logical solution, because it hadn't crossed his mind.

"I filter most of the things I hear, or see. That's the way I work," Sherlock muttered and suddenly his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. "I tried to filter you out of my mind. But I've realised that there are situations, when your presence in my palace is… welcomed. It allows me to see things from a different perspective. I believe that if I haven't kept you away from the Magnussen case, you would have figured it out before me."

"Why?"

"Because you don't just observe, Victoria. You understand. And there is a great difference between those two things –a difference I haven't been aware of for a very long time. Until I've realised that your ability to understand is what makes you so special… to me."

Victoria didn't have to ask what he meant by that. It was clear as day that he wasn't talking about any of his cases. He was her superior in the matter of deduction, and there was no changing that. He meant that she was important to him –not a consulting detective, but to Sherlock Holmes, a man like no other, but still a man nonetheless. Even if he didn't believe it, he was a being capable of feeling and living. She knew that. She just didn't think he could ever feel the same attraction that formed deep within her heart.

He looked at her again, and her breathing hitched slightly, when she was instantly reminded of that memorable moment at the airport. His eyes, even without the rays of sunshine, shone beautifully with that mix of colours that was beginning to look incredibly familiar.

"There is just something about the idea of having… someone, who tolerates me and accepts me. Something that even I cannot resist. Which is why I've kissed you."

Victoria felt her cheeks warming up, as she fought the urge to avert her gaze. It sounded nothing like a normal, usual admittance of feelings, but she had never expected to hear something even remotely similar from Sherlock. Just as she had never expected to hear this. She wanted to cry, but at the same time, she wanted to laugh like a maniac, because of the relief she felt at the moment.

Maybe he didn't say he loved her. But he might as well have done it, because her heart drummed against her ribcage like crazy, and her hands shook visibly.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, suddenly anxious, and Victoria snorted.

He probably noticed her state, and came to a terrible conclusion –just as was his habit.

"No. I just… I never expected that I might hear something like that from you," she said quietly and smiled weakly, while he blinked in confusion.

"Why? Isn't that what people usually do, when they have feelings for someone?"

"Sherlock, I honestly didn't think you'd ever have feelings for me. Or that I would be reckless enough to even consider the possibility of…"

"Of what?"

Victoria bit her bottom lip, feeling unsure of herself and quite stupid. Was she supposed to just blurt out those words? For fuck's sake, he didn't even tell her that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her. Or anything of romantic nature. She needed to keep her mouth shut. At least for now. Pushing her luck sounded like the worst thing she could have done, and Victoria did not like the idea of scaring him away.

"Of developing feelings for you."

Sherlock frowned, as he kept looking at her, searching for signs of deception. To her surprise, he decided not to comment on her obvious lie, which was probably clear as a day to him. He was, after all, a walking lie detector.

"I've noticed that you seemed to be frightened by the idea. But something's changed."

"Yes," she replied and nodded slightly.

"What?"

"Your mother talked me out of it."

Now it was Sherlock's turn to be surprised. Actually, he looked absolutely perplexed by the idea.

"In what universe is listening to my mother's advice a great idea?" he asked, forcing her to laugh.

"Would you prefer me to smack you in the face for kissing me?"

"Why would you smack me for doing something you enjoyed?"

"How can you be sure I enjoyed it?"

"Because I did." Her mouth flew open, while Sherlock stopped to breathe for a moment. "Oh. I really did, didn't I?"

He sounded like a crazy scientist that had just made a huge breakthrough. Victoria laughed again, when he noticed his expression full of wonder. And then, just like that, he frowned and looked at her again. His gaze flicked to her lips, forcing her to swallow hard, when the familiar tension returned to her body.

"But I was high."

"High as a kite," she muttered, remembering the phrase he'd used.

"I nearly OD'd, yes. But I'm not high anymore." He took a step closer. "Or at least I think I'm not. Hard to tell."

"Why?"

"Because my body seems to be very excited about the possibility of kissing you again."

Victoria forced herself to remain still, but it was bloody difficult. She couldn't help, but to feel that same excitement, when her stomach clenched tightly and shivers run down her spine, giving her the urge to fidget like an impatient child. God, she wanted so much more than just his kisses… She wanted everything. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he could give that to her after all, made her want to scream. She didn't though, because Sherlock's hand found its way to her face, caressing it gently.

"Your skin is very soft," he said. "Pleasant."

She raised her eyebrows, kind of amused by his comment and the somewhat childish fascination in his eyes. Her expression changed, when his thumb brushed against her lips, parting them slightly.

"And your hair smells nice."

"Are you going to kiss me, or what?" Victoria moaned impatiently, snapping Sherlock out his daze. His words only made the ache in her stomach worse, and she couldn't stop herself from fidgeting.

"I think so."

"Then get on with it. We can talk about my hair later."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. One of his hands still rested on her face, but the other hung limply next to his body, so she grabbed it and placed it on her waist, surprising him slightly. Fortunately, Sherlock hadn't been completely daft, when it came to such things. Those ridiculous books must have mentioned something about being so close to another person, because he instantly pulled her in and closed his eyes, forcing her to do the same.

This time, she didn't feel the need to look at him and memorise the moment. All she wanted to do, was to focus on the gentle movement of his lips against her own and the way his palm caressed her skin, bringing her even closer. Victoria responded to his every movement, and she allowed him to simply try.

When he parted her lips and deepened the kiss, she couldn't stop herself from clutching his shirt and probably wrinkling it terribly. She didn't care though, and neither did Sherlock. His hand moved from her cheek to her hair, entangling itself in its waves and combing through its strands. Victoria really wanted that moment to just last forever, but she knew it wasn't possible. Especially, when someone's footsteps echoed in the stairway.

"Sherlock, I know you don't answer my calls, but Mary's…" John's voice rang throughout the air, as the door flew open. Victoria instantly pulled away, but it was already too late. "Oh my God!"

She wasn't supposed to blush like a five year old, but she could feel her cheeks warming up with embarrassment. Why? Why did he have to barge in right now, just when things were getting interesting?! And why did she feel the need to be ashamed of being caught in a perfectly normal situation?

"You're doing it again?!" John yelled with his eyes so wide, that Victoria started to fear that his eyeballs would fall out.

"Don't be so melodramatic, John." Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked at the detective. "You must have seen two people kissing before. I suppose you can make a baby without it, but…"

"You're not going to make this about me! You two. Since when?!" Watson asked and pointed his fingers to Victoria, and then flicked it back to Holmes. "Why haven't you told me?!"

"Because we were kissing, John," Sherlock answered and finally stepped away from Victoria, heading to the window one more time.

He picked up his violin and started to pull the strings chaotically, producing sounds that could hardly be described as music. Victoria sat down on the couch, still a bit dumbfounded by this whole situation. She fixed her gaze on Sherlock, trying not to think about his taste still lingering on her lips. Or about anything even remotely related to that blissful moment.

"Not now. I mean earlier!"

"Because I was too focused on Moriarty," Sherlock stated and Victoria snorted.

That was true, actually. He was focused to the point that he had even forgotten about that first kiss, or –at least- had shoved it deep into the depths of his mind palace, until Victoria had come and forced it back to the surface.

"And you?" John asked, turning to Victoria with a genuine hurt on his face. "I've kept your feelings a secret, and you haven't even told me that…"

Sherlock stopped pulling the strings and stiffened visibly, forcing Dr Watson to shut his mouth and send Victoria an apologetic smile. The detective looked at him with a grim expression, while Holmes turned around and started to stared at the woman.

"You knew?" he asked Watson, still not looking away from her.

"Um… Yeah, I did. I noticed… I mean."

"You noticed?" Sherlock snorted, rolling his eyes. "We both know that you're basically blind, when it comes to observing even the simplest and most striking details."

"The girl has cried her eyes out next to your hospital bed. I can be blind, but I'm not deaf," John spat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what, you're his girlfriend now?" he addressed Victoria.

She scowled visibly, while Holmes kept staring at her. He didn't expect such a reaction, because he frowned slightly.

"No, I'm not. I don't think that's the right term to describe our relations."

"But you're… you know, together?"

Victoria looked at Sherlock, who blinked a couple of times, only to stop blinking altogether. For a moment, the room was quiet, as no one knew what to say. John seemed baffled by the sudden silence, but after a moment, he must have realised that relationships weren't exactly easy for Sherlock; better yet, he completely didn't understand them, nor did he see the need for them.

"I've analysed the situation and I've reached the conclusion that we don't have a different choice than to form a relationship, Victoria," Sherlock stated after few minutes. "There is a possibility of other men turning their attention to you, even if we both know that you've never really been interested in so-called dating. I don't think sharing you would ever feel satisfactory to me. And I really hate the idea of having to listen to my mother going on and on about treating you poorly."

Victoria opened her mouth and then she closed it again, unable to believe that those words had actually left Sherlock's mouth. Did he just… Did he…

Holy shit. He did. He had actually said that he wanted to be in a relationship with her. Well, he didn't exactly want, but there could be only one conclusion.

"I refuse to call you my girlfriend though," he almost spat, and Victoria couldn't stop the small smile that found its way onto her face.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she replied and he looked at her with a smile of his own.