I HOPE THIS TIES UP ANY LOOSE ENDS WITH THE PLOT. I SHOULD HAVE THE EPILOGUE UP OVER THE WEEKEND

John's head shot up and he turned his most murderous glare onto the detective.

"No, Sherlock," The vampire's voice was still deep but most of the threat had receded. He just sounded worn out. "I'm enough of a monster as it is. I'm not going to make it worse by killing someone for no good reason."

Both the observant Holmes' in the room noticed as the doctor's fingers began to twitch. The blood was flowing into his system. John could feel the energy bursting like fireworks in his veins creating burst after burst of fire in his system.

The buzz was getting increasingly more intense. The doctor leapt up, making the other men jump. He dashed towards the kitchen. I need to make it up to Mycroft. Yes. Good idea. Tea. Tea cheers everybody up.

The vampire gathered together the tea tray noisily at a break-neck speed. He was back in the living room before the others had started talking again. He poured out three cups of tea and pushed them towards the Politician, the policeman and the detective. Greg's brow furrowed in confusion. John didn't understand what the man was confused about. What had he done now?

"Are you not having any, John?" Lestrade asked curiously.

The vampire shook his head firmly before answering, "I honestly wouldn't mind never touching human food ever again."

The DI looked even more confused before understanding flashed across his face. "Oh! ...What will happen to that Alexander character then?"

John picked up the card which had been left by the cake and bottle of blood. He sucked in a breath of air through his teeth after he had read the small piece of text, "When James Stephenson says that someone will be dealt with he isn't joking. Doing what Alexander did to me isn't taken lightly in the vampire world. I doubt he will be with us much longer... That's if he's not already been dealt with."

Lestrade winced slightly at the thought of an execution. The detective and Mycroft on the other hand didn't even flinch.

Sherlock stared directly at his lover, "Why did he want you?"

"Alexander and I were once bonded in the vampire society. Which means that if anything happens to me he has to help and vice versa. Obviously, after knowing each other for a while we eventually became partners but he has a nasty thirst for power. It was hard to live with him so I left." John flushed as he told the men about his past lover.

"How long?" Sherlock felt threatened by their obvious strong bond.

John frowned for a minute thinking.

"20 ... Maybe 25 years. No long really considering I'm pretty old compared to your fly-like life spans" John chuckled to himself.

"How old are you?" Mycroft questioned the vampire.

"What is the date?"

"5 October."

"Happy birthday me for yesterday! 196 and one day." John beamed proudly.

The other men's jaws fell open in shock. John started bouncing his leg. The energy was flying through his veins.

"Are you joking?" Mycroft couldn't believe his ears.

"No, I'm John," The vampire kept his face neutral until a smile cracked open and he chuckled. "Yes, seriously. No thanks to you idiots! That blood you have me was practically poison. How long had it been out of the body? Jesus Christ!"

Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged anxious glances. The politician decided he was most responsible the blood so offered an answer.

"Ummmm... A few weeks, at most. Probably anyway."

John's nose screwed up in distaste, "No wonder my body rejected it! That stuff is practically toxic. All the fats and cells sit around for too long."

The men sat in silence as John paced the room. His energy making him put a skip in every step. He hopped, danced and jumped in an effort to burn some annoying energy. 5 minutes later John was still pacing but the others were bored especially the detective.

"So ... What now?" The policeman asked curiously.

"I go back into hiding and you pretend I don't exist and none of this happened." John stood looking seriously down at the DI.

"But... you're still going to... get your blood from people?" Lestrade was uncertain of how to phrase the question.

"If I cannot find blood from other sources then, yes, I will have to resort to providers."

Sherlock suddenly leapt out of his chair and dashed to the middle of the room, "John! You could feed off me!"

Mycroft stood up to stop the idea becoming anything more than what it was, an idea but the doctor stared first. Mycroft held his breath in anticipation of what would be said.

"Thanks for the offer but your blood would taste vile!" The vampire started gagging at the thought of sour disgusting blood of an ex-drug addict running down his throat.

Sherlock looked practically broken. He shuffled back to his armchair and threw himself into it. Mycroft shook his head at his brother's behaviour.

"Everything will be going back to normal now?" Mycroft's eyes darted between the vampire and the detective. He was obviously wondering about the status of their relationship.

John smiled down at Sherlock, "Not quite everything"

Sherlock stood and grasped John's cold hands in his own warm ones. A smile spread across his face so it mirrored John's expression. In that moment, they were the only people in the world. Sherlock lent down and John went up onto his toes until their lips met. They kissed until they had to stop and breathe. They smiled at each other. Finally finding the person they had been look for their whole lives.

John's smile suddenly changed into a mischievous grin. Sherlock was confused. What have I missed?

The vampire swooped down and pulled the detective off the ground. He held Sherlock effortlessly in a fireman's lift. Sherlock's weight was no challenge for the supernatural creature.

With Sherlock over his shoulder he turned and strode towards the detective's bedroom. On the way he stopped remembering the other men in the room. He turned to them.

"Well, thanks for coming but I've got buckets of energy and I haven't seen Sherlock in almost a week. I'm going to burn that energy, quickly hopefully and at the same time see some Sherlock. See you."

John marched through Sherlock's door ignoring the shocked faces of Lestrade and Mycroft and not waiting for a reply.

The two men who were left bewildered in the living area quickly glanced at each other before sprinting down the stairs and out the door as quickly as they could. They didn't want to be there for the next bit.

As they walked on down the road Mycroft looked back over his shoulder at 221b Baker Street and a smile crept into his face. At least you've got your vampire back, Baby Brother.