Author's Note:

Just five more chapters after this and then time for the new story! I am a bit excited about it! Thank you so much to all you lovely reviewers out there!


John slept for several hours and when he woke up he felt a bit better. It was clear his fever had broken and he had managed to wake up without coughing. The doctor smiled at him and gave him a pill that he swallowed eagerly. Perhaps by tomorrow he would be almost rid of whatever he'd gotten. He could feel Sherlock sleeping behind him and smiled, taking a deep and shaky breath. It took a few moments for him to go through his hazy memories before he blushed. God, he had asked Sherlock to shag him...multiple times and suggest Irene be a surrogate mother for a second child that he really didn't want. He should stop getting sick.

Sherlock slept much longer than he intended to. His body had been exhausted and he had finally relaxed enough to stay in his slumber for several more hours, even after John had woke up. He had practically slept the rest of the day away. He stirred, stretching out his long limbs before curling back against his husband.

Sherlock was awake and wonderfully warm. "I am glad I saved you," John whispered with a small cough. Not too bad, less from the chest. "But I don't think I'm quite ready for a second child. Especially from Irene." He grinned slightly and laughed. God, he had been horrid with a fever, hadn't he? "I wouldn't mind shagging you when I am better, though. Feverish me has that part down."

Oh thank God. Sherlock rolled so he could straddle John. Not because he wanted to shag just yet, but so he could look down at his husband. He pressed their foreheads together; he liked doing that of late. "Feeling better then Love?" He had decided he liked this new term of endearment he had tried out before falling asleep. He gave John a quick kiss on the nose.

Love? John crinkled his nose slightly but grinned. That sounded...nice. Especially from Sherlock. "Yeah," he whispered softly, lifting a hand to rest on Sherlock's cheek. "A lot better." He turned his head to cough slightly. No blood. "I don't think I am going to go swimming for a while, though. Unless I have to rescue you. That part was worth it." He lifted his head and turned it slightly, quickly meeting his husband's lips.

"We don't have to go swimming the rest of the time we are here, if you don't want. Will you still want to stay the whole time? If not Mycroft can get us tickets to leave at the end of next week." Sherlock didn't want to leave early but if it was what John wanted then he would go without argument. His husband being happy was all that mattered to him.

"We are staying," John stated with a small laugh. "Why leave? That is ridiculous. We're staying," he repeated with a sure nod. They couldn't leave. He still had to make love to Sherlock under the stars and some stupid little illness wasn't going to stop him. He met his husband's gaze and held it calmly. "I am sorry about earlier."

Good. They were staying. This was very pleasing to Sherlock indeed. He smiled down at his husband happily upon hearing the decision. "Me too. Harry is a wonderful choice John. I should have been more supportive of you and had more faith in your sister. I'm sorry." He leaned down and gently met his husband's lips for a slow kiss.

John returned the kiss before pulling away to correct his husband, a small blush on his face. "I meant...when I had the fever. You know, during the baths and...and the, um, Stuff. The talking." He nodded hesitantly, licking his lips and looking up at Sherlock nervously. "I mean, I'm sorry about the fighting and if you really want to find a Nanny then we can but Harry...she is sober and wants to be part of Amy's life, so," he cut himself off and laughed, ending it with a few weak coughs. "And thank you for staying with me."

Oh. Well now he kind of felt like an idiot. "It is fine my dear doctor. Everything is okay now. Of course I would stay with you. I am your husband. By your side was exactly where I was supposed to be. 'In sickness and health' remember?" Sherlock gave John another smile. "I love you." He leaned down and kissed his husband again.

Another kiss. John returned it slowly and pulled away to breath, grinning up at his husband. "I love you, too," he whispered tiredly. God, just that had exhausted him but the last thing he wanted to do was sleep. "I need to find a pet name for you," he whispered. "It seems you have found a second one for me and I have yet to settle on one. You are too amazing, I guess."

"Sorry," Sherlock murmured and he rolled off of John, but curled back into his husband. "I don't need a pet name…although I prefer the phrase term of endearment myself." He smirked a bit. "I am amazing and perfect," he corrected with a bigger smirk. "Are you up for eating my Love?" Yes, he did quite enjoy using this new term. He snuggled into John, letting out a content sigh.

John missed the feeling of Sherlock above him instantly but let his husband settle in beside him. "I am going to find you one," he whispered with a grin but it vanished the moment he thought about food. Oh, God. He didn't want to be sick again. "No, that is fine. Tea, maybe? Just some tea. That would be nice," he muttered weakly. Maybe he wasn't as well as he thought. "I don't ever want to eat again," he said childishly.

Sherlock kissed John on the cheek. "Tea it is my dear doctor." He gave his husband another quick kiss before getting out of bed. Oh for God's sake, he was still wearing those ridiculously large and dirty pants from the lighthouse. He took them off, not really caring who was in the room and searched around for his robe until he remembered it was still on the beach. Probably still wet from the downpour. He sighed and settled for wearing a pair of his husband's boxers.

John watched him with a grin, watching as the boxers slid low on Sherlock's hips. "Mmm, that's a good look for you," he muttered with a laugh, meeting Sherlock's gaze. "I wish to make a demand that you wear those around the rest of the day." He stretched lazily in the bed, freezing for a moment and slowly sitting up. "The... when did we get a new bed?" He looked up at his husband with wide eyes.

"First time wearing boxers, honestly. Kind of comfortable. Demand met and accepted." Sherlock smirked at John before giving his husband a slight shrug. "I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine. I woke up in it. Mycroft probably had Anthea get it, if I had to guess. We will have to give it a test run once you are well enough." The smirk returned before he disappeared from the bedroom and into the kitchen. It didn't take long to make the tea. He prepared two cups and walked back to the bedroom with a tray.

John had curled deeper into the new blankets, inspecting the bed from his small cocoon before his eyes settled on Sherlock. "Warm," he mumbled from under the blanket. Getting the tea would mean leaving his roll of blankets and he wasn't really keen to do that. "Like this new bed," he muttered before taking a deep breath and letting his head disappear under the blankets. "Can we drink tea under the blanket? Like a fort?" He asked softly.

"A fort?" Sherlock echoed, confusion clearly etched in his voice. He frowned a bit as he tried to understand. Was he missing some kind of cultural reference here or something? He sat down on the bed, setting the tray on the night stand. "If you are careful, I guess it would be okay. We can destroy the bed after you are feeling better."

John poked his head out from under the blanket and glared playfully at his husband. "You know, a fort? Of course you don't." He giggled and reached out for his mug, sitting up a bit to take a sip. "You take blankets and boxes and chairs and make a fort. I did it all the time when I was a kid and then got beat up by Harry when I wouldn't let her in." He grinned and took another sip of tea. It had been, what, two day since they had shagged last? "We could go slow," he muttered softly. "I could lay on my stomach, we could do it like that." He offered with a bit of a blush.

Oh. "I never did that growing up," Sherlock admitted quietly. Sometimes he felt like he had missed out a lot on being a kid. It wasn't anything he had really thought about, except on the occasions he would talk to John about them. "If you aren't well enough to eat yet, then you probably aren't well enough to shag either. You need to get better John." They had shagged when near death, so why was now different? He frowned at his thoughts.

Right. Get better. John frowned slightly. "I should be fine but all right." He took another sip of his tea and twisted to set the mug down on the table on his side of the bed. "Not going to push you." He smiled, it was warm and genuine and, really, he couldn't be mad at his husband for wanting to take care of him. "Is everything all right?" He finally asked, reaching over to take his husband's hand. "I'm just asking because...I don't know, all those times in the hospital were never a problem and we have both been worse and shagged."

Maybe he was just finally growing up. Sherlock gave a slight shrug. "I guess…" He trailed off as he tried to think of the right words. "Shagging you is great but we are husbands now…shouldn't we be more…I don't know…" He shrugged again, as words failed him. It didn't happen often. He finally picked up his cup of tea and took a slow sip.

Being husbands changed their shagging habits? John watched Sherlock curiously and shook his head. "I don't know either," he said softly. It wasn't angry or upset, merely curious. He really had no idea what Sherlock was thinking and he wanted to know. It wouldn't do any good for his husband to keep his thoughts inside. "Tell me," he whispered reassuringly.

Sherlock remained quiet, as he continued to sip his tea thoughtfully. "Shouldn't we…take care of each other first?" He set down his cup and turned to look at John, his eyebrows raised questioningly. He really didn't know. He probably sounded like an idiot. Sometimes he felt like he didn't know anything about relationships at all.

"Yeah, probably." John grinned and nodded. "Just a bit. I know you are exhausted. I am a bit tired myself and still sick." He moved and placed a soft kiss on his husband's cheek. "I am proud of you, Sherlock. You're...you are the best husband anybody could ask for." The amount of growth he had seen in Sherlock just after the wedding made his chest swell with pride. He flopped back on to the mattress. "I love you."

Oh. Well then. He had done well, it appeared. Sherlock gave John a proud grin. "I love you too." He laid back down, snuggling into his husband. His head rested against John's shoulder, an arm draping over his husband's stomach. The other hand reached up to run through his partner's hair lightly.

At this point John decided that he didn't know what he would do without Sherlock in his life. The man had stayed by his side while he was horribly sick. He had acted like...like his husband. "I am glad I married you," he whispered as a hand moved to rub at his husband's back.

Sherlock smiled. "Me too. I wasn't sure if I would be any good at the married life, or that it would suit me. But…I think I'm doing okay at it. Better than I thought I would, anyway." He turned his head, giving John's chest a small kiss. He didn't always feel this confident about his ability to be in a relationship but lately things seemed to be coming together for him.

John turned his head to study Sherlock. "You thought it wasn't going to suit you?" He asked softly before placing a kiss on his husband's forehead. "You deserve so much more than you give yourself credit for, Sherlock. I understand that once we are back home and cases start up that you'll be a little different but..." He paused and pulled his husband closer with a grin. "You deserve all of this."

Sherlock shrugged a bit. "Not really and two years ago it wouldn't have. I guess I have changed since then." Another shrug and then he nuzzled deeper into John's chest in seek of comfort. He hated that felt insecure like this at times, considering how confident and cocky he was about damn near everything else.

"You changing isn't horrible," John said softly as his arm tightened around Sherlock. He turned his head away to cough a few times before speaking again. "You have become a good man, Sherlock." And it was true. He cared without realizing it and was even helping raise a child. "And if we don't stop talking like this I am going to be amazingly turned on about how lucky I am to have you."

"I know." Sherlock figured that he just felt like he was losing a part of himself somewhere along the way. "Do you think…I am still me?" Had he compromised too much? He didn't really mind, he supposed. He had changed because he wanted to not because he felt like he had to. He was just thinking about this too much, wasn't he?

Oh. That was what Sherlock was worried about. John looked down at his husband for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah except, you know, you can't base it off of who you are right now. You said you were going to go back to normal at 221B so...yeah, you are still you." He smiled warmly at his husband. "You're still you," he repeated proudly. "Just a bit more wonderful."

"Yeah, guess so." Sherlock decided to let it go because it was just a waste a time of thinking about it. It would just make him upset and frustrated. "I love you." He snuggled deeper into John still, needing the comfort that only his husband could provide. Just think about something else. Like when they were going to shag under the stars. Yes. That was going to be amazing. He couldn't wait.

John frowned right away and shifted, rolling to straddle his husband slowly. "You are, Sherlock. You are still so much you," he whispered before he started kissing his husband's chest and running a trail down to his stomach. "You are still a consulting detective and you are still a genius." He started the trail back up, a soft smile on his lips. "You're just married and you're in love. There is nothing wrong with that."

God. John straddling him shouldn't be such a turn on but it was. Of course his husband kissing him like that only made Sherlock think about wanting the man above him even more. No. John needed to recover. Tomorrow maybe. He took a calming breath. His husband was just trying to console him not shag him, he reminded himself. He smiled up at John, arms wrapping around his husband in a hug. "I love you." He didn't care he had just said a few moments ago. His husband was amazing and John deserved to know that.

John relaxed against Sherlock, smiling warmly. "I love you, too," he replied against his husband's neck, pressing his nose into Sherlock's skin. "You are the most important person in my life. You are my anchor. My life saver. He lifted his head and rested his chin on Sherlock's chest. "I wish my Mum could have met you."

Emotional talk. It wasn't that he minded, it was just that Sherlock could never think of anything to say back until John has said over a dozen things and by then his one thing never really felt like enough. So, he turned his head to kiss his husband on the lips gently in hopes of buying a little time for himself to come up with something to say. That and kissing John was always fantastic.

"Mmm..." John grinned against Sherlock's lips and slowly returned the kiss. He snuck his tongue into his husband's mouth, running it across the top of Sherlock's mouth. The man below him always knew how to kiss, knew exactly what he liked, but he never could figure out what, exactly, made Sherlock squirm during kissing. He sucked at his partner's lower lip and moaned.

Sherlock had already been turned on just by John straddling and now the man above him was sucking on his lip and moaning. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to resist shagging his husband, especially now that he had gotten erection. Maybe John wouldn't notice. He continued the kiss, resisting the urge to buck up into his husband.

Based on the erection he felt tenting the boxers Sherlock was wearing, John decided he must have found what his husband really liked. He pulled away from the kiss with a small gasp, looking between them proudly. Earlier, Sherlock had turned him down but now... How could his husband turn him down with such obvious interest? "Can I touch you?" He asked softly. Maybe if it was just his hand then Sherlock would say yes.

"Yes, oh God yes please." So much for self control. Maybe with just a hand job, John wouldn't use up too much energy. His husband should really be saving his strength, to get better quicker. Sherlock didn't hold back now, and he bucked into the man above him with a small whimper of desire. He had never wanted a hand job so badly before in his life.

The moment John felt Sherlock buck into him, he slammed his eyes shut, forcing himself to calm down. It wouldn't do any good to exhaust himself. If he stayed patient then it would pay off in the end. He scooted back to rest on Sherlock's thighs, slowly pulling the boxers down with a wicked grin. "Okay," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around his husband's cock and gave it a slow stroke.

Sherlock whimpered again as soon as he felt John's hand on his cock. He squirmed up into the touch with a moan. "…'sgood John. Don't stop, please." Ever since he had started talking and making noise, he had found he didn't ever want to be quiet during any kind of sexual act ever again. Also, his husband seemed to really enjoy when he did it to. So, win-win.

John smiled a bit but didn't look up to look at his husband. His gaze was locked on his hand, starting a slow and tight rhythm on Sherlock's penis. After a few more strokes he took a deep breath, slid further down Sherlock's body, and took the head of his husband's penis into his mouth. All he wanted to do right now was spoil his husband and thank him for being by his side while he had been sick.

"Just…" Sherlock trailed off with a moan when he tried to tell John that only a hand job was needed. He didn't want his husband to wear out but he couldn't seem to form the words to say so. His eyes closed with another moan and he managed to keep his body still at least. He did reach down to scratch slightly at the top of his husband's head though.

John exhaled loudly through his nose, using his tongue to trace his husband's cock before he started lightly bobbing his head. The feeling of Sherlock's hand on the back of his head made him moan softly around his husband's penis, his hand moving in faster strokes. Good. Sherlock was enjoying it. He paused, took a deep breath as he pulled his hand away, and took as much as Sherlock's penis into his mouth as he could.

With restraint Sherlock remained still for John, with a whimper. "Oh God…" He trailed off with a loud moan when his husband damn near swallowed his whole cock. "Oh God yes, so wonderful…" He moaned again, fingers scratching a little more deeply now. On strands that were long enough on John's head, he pulled in his ecstasy.

John only moved his tongue before he gagged slightly, pulling back a bit so he could breathe and to moan because, God his hair was long enough to pull. Sherlock's voice urged him on and he lowered his head again, stopping when his nose his husband's body. He didn't stay for long, pulling away with a weak cough before he started bobbing his head again, his hand wrapping around the part he wasn't getting to.

Shit. John was coughing. Sherlock should tell his husband that this had been a bad idea…and oh God his partner was sucking him off again. He moaned, pulling the hair a little more roughly in his excitement. "Don't stop John…please…" He really shouldn't be encouraging his husband but it was the only thing he could seem to say right now.

God. At this point John was fairly sure he was never going to cut his hair because it felt wonderful to have it pulled. He used his tongue to press Sherlock's cock against the top of his mouth, sucking on it several times rather loudly. There was another feeling in his throat but he fought it, managing not to cough as he hummed around his husband's penis.

Sherlock came with a loud moan and even though he hadn't really been doing anything he was panting. "…'sgood John…real good…" He resumed the scratching of John's head. He opened his eyes and tilted his head down to look at John. Shit. Was his husband okay? He had at least maintained enough control to not tofuck his partner's mouth.

John managed to swallow everything before pulling away with several coughs. Right. So, Sherlock had been right and waiting probably would have been a good idea. God, he couldn't stop coughing. He sat up, his face red, as he continued to cough. It took several moments, John leaning forward and holding himself up with his arms, before he managed to take a deep breath. "Sorry," he said with a sheepish smile and a quick glance at his husband. "That was good," he added with a grin.

As soon as John started coughing, Sherlock sat up. His lips pressed together in a frown. "You aren't the one who should be apologizing. It's me. I should have stopped you, made sure you would be okay." He wrapped his arms around his husband, giving the other man a gentle hug. He leaned his head into John's shoulder once he was sure the coughing fit was over. He really was an idiot sometimes. He should have insisted on just the hand job. "I'm sorry," he murmured quietly.

What? John laughed softly and shook his head. "You weren't going to stop me, Sherlock," he whispered softly, wrapping his arms around his husband. "I was going to do it anyway. Planned it from the beginning." He took a deep breath and let his eyes slip close, his chest moving in several slow breaths. It had been amazing for him, really, and he wasn't going to complain about anything. "Don't apologize, I did it for you."

"Just take it easy the next day or so then. You need to get better my Love." Sherlock lifted his head and gave John a small smile. He leaned forward and gave his husband a quick kiss on the lisps. "Come on, lay down with me." He eased John down with him, snuggling into the body next to him immediately. He ran his fingers through his husband's hair lightly.