-:- Sherlock -:-

I slept with John that night, mainly because my wolf was only ever quiet when I was in his arms. And of course he wanted to spend every last moment with me. We just talked, as I lay in his arms, simply getting to know one another outside of the werewolf thing. I told him about the cases I'd solved for the Met, and my job as a police consultant. He, in return told me about the war, and shared about his PTSD. I held him tighter at that, wishing I could make it better for him. However, we chose not to discuss the thing that loomed over our heads, like a hammer waiting to fall; my impending death. I focused on the moment, the feeling of safety as I fell asleep mid-sentence.

I truly meant it when I said I never really intended to find my mate. Even with the Mythical Creatures Act of 2010, which gave us rights, laws, privileges, the whole bit, I knew that I would still never marry. I'd never seen the point; I'm a dead man walking, why drag them down with me?

But I wondered to myself, as I fell asleep with my head on John's chest, if he was the reason I'd felt stronger. If my wolf wasn't killing me as fast because she liked him too. Wishful thinking, I know.

I woke up the next morning with John's smell filling my nose, and for the first time since I'd been turned, I felt good. Like I wasn't a Stage Four cancer patient... I felt whole. I snuck a peek at his face, only to find him already awake and smiling at me softly. "Hi," I said, taking a long sniff of him before getting out of bed and into my dressing gown. It was rather endearing, how he'd let me sleep in, even though he could have woken me up. He truly cared.

"Is that a wolf thing, the smelling?" He asked, as he stretched, yawning.

"Honestly, I don't know. Your smell... It's so good, John. I can't even begin to tell you the effect it has on my wolf." I picked up my phone to see if Greg had texted me about any cases he had for me today. I solved the last one yesterday in the lab.

Greg is Gregory Holmes-Lestrade, my brother's husband, and when Brother Mine let slip that I was having difficulties with finding a job, due to my condition... Well my dear brother-in-law put in the paperwork to make me a special consultant to the Yard immediately. Mycroft and I both have brilliant minds, high above the average person, and we can easily deduce the lives of anyone who comes our way. Mycroft uses his talent in the employ of Her Majesty's government. To most people who meet him, he is a lowly office worker in the Intelligence Service. To his family, the ones who he trusts, he is the British Government.

Greg, it turns out, hadn't texted me since he confirmed the last case's outcome. But it was only ten-thirty, still early.

I walked towards the kitchen, only to find out that John had gotten there first. He was cheerily frying up the eggs and bacon Mrs Hudson had put in our fridge the day before. My mate grinned broadly at me as he looked up. "Studies say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. So, I've made you bacon, eggs, and toast with marmalade." He finished up with the scrambled eggs, and piled what I rightfully guessed was my plate with the majority of them. Likewise with the bacon. Only the toast was split with any semblance of equality.

"John, you really don't have to..." I said, with a small sigh. But he wasn't having any of it, so I sat down to breakfast with a resigned expression. I didn't want him to get attached to me. I looked at him wearily and took a bite of the eggs. God, they were good. I involuntarily sighed; it had been years since food had tasted this good.

"Is it okay?" John asked with a smile, to which I nodded, grinning.

"Delicious." I said, once my mouth was clear. I couldn't understand why he was grinning like a fool, but I thoroughly enjoyed seeing his smile. It made me feel warm inside, and my wolf enjoyed it as well.

Dammit, Sherlock, it won't last! You're dying remember?

If I was indeed dying, then why did I feel so good?

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" John asked. I held up a finger, cocking my head to the side. I heard Greg's slow, heavy footsteps on the pavement outside, and then on the stairs to our front door. Apparently, by his racing heartbeat and laborious breathing, I had a case. I knew the signs.

"I have a case. Do you want to join me?" I asked, with a grin at John's thoroughly puzzled expression. I stood, crossing the floor to open the door for my dear brother-in-law. "Hello, Greg."

"Sherlock, vampire attack, Brixton. Lauriston Gardens to be exact." He said, though not particularly urgently.

"Dead?" I assumed that was the case. Besides, if the victim is dead, then Greg can meet my mate, because a dead body can easily wait for us.

"Yeah," he said, taking a look around the flat. "Your new place is nice, Sherlock. A hell of a lot better than that shit hole on Montague street. Who are you going halves with again?"

"Me." John appeared in the kitchen doorway, nursing a cup of coffee. He had the most smug little grin on his handsome face, so what came next really didn't surprise me all that much. "His mate."

Greg imitated a goldfish perfectly. It was rather uncanny, how well he lived up to Mycroft's pet name for him.

"Congrats, Sherlock..." He said at last, clearly in shock. He knew that I would never willingly seek out my mate, even though it was pure foolishness on my part. It was rather nice to have a mate. "I hope you have told him about... I mean, God. I shouldn't have said anything, but..." He was clearly floundering. I heaved a dramatic sigh. To hell with it.

"John knows all about my condition. Don't worry." I rolled my eyes at his sluggishness, and John laughed. "I actually feel better, being exposed to him. Almost like I'm not dying anymore. Weird." I shook my head, trying to clear the small feeling nibbling at the back of my mind. It almost felt like... hope. Which was ridiculous, considering I hadn't had hope since I was twenty, and been told that I was a dead man walking. Weird indeed. We'll, now wasn't the time to ponder this hope. Now I have another case.

"Ill be at the crime scene in a little while, Greg. Let me shower and prepare some tea." I walked back to the bedroom, leaving my brother-in-law to converse with my mate.

-:- John -:-

I gave Greg a long, searching look, and wondered to myself how he and Sherlock met. There was a clear age gap between them, but he genuinely seemed to care about my mate. "Do you want some coffee?" I asked, leaning on the doorframe. It couldn't hurt to be nice.

"Sure, You're... John?" He followed me to the kitchen. Upon seeing the rather large breakfast Sherlock and I had halfway finished he raised his eyebrows. "Sherlock, in the eight years I've known him had never eaten that much. At least not at one time."

"Well," I said, as I handed him his coffee, "I think that there's a lot of things Sherlock has never really done." I took a sip of my coffee, and looked at him over the rim of my mug. "I plan on changing that." I smiled softly as I entertained myself with a vision of a happy Sherlock at Christmas, and us kissing under the mistletoe. Yes, there would be a lot Sherlock and I will do.

I snapped back to the present as Greg asked, "And you're... okay, with him being a Were?" God, he really couldn't tell?

"I'm one too. So of course." I grinned as he gaped. I hoped Greg would be around for a long time, he was rather unique and I liked him.

"So, do you have any idea why his wolf is a she? Is it just him being well, different? Or is there a real reason?" I tried to act casual as I inquired about the question that was bothering me. The first time I heard him refer to 'her' I was just trying to not rip his clothes off. Now that I'd calmed down, and could think rationally, it struck me as odd. How could Sherlock - obviously male - have a female wolf? I was still highly inexperienced about this whole werewolf business but... I was pretty sure my wolf is a male, and that your wolf matches your gender...

"That's really a Sherlock question, John. He's a bit sensitive about it and all." Greg finished his coffee, and rinsed the mug, setting it in the sink. "Tell him I'll see him at the scene, yeah? I'm late enough as it is." I nodded, as he left, shutting the door behind him.

Sherlock emerged from the bedroom then, wearing nothing except a tiny towel, and I nearly had a coronary. God, he was perfect. I longer to run my hands over his pale, perfect skin, and take him over the kitchen table. Fuck. That's the wolf talking, John. Your first time with Sherlock has to be special, has to fucking mean something. It can't be simply instincts, and your wolf wanting it. But God did he smell good damp.

Sherlock seemed to be oblivious to my tension as he casually said, "There's still hot water, if you fancy a wash, John."

I hummed, "Yeah, okay..." I deliberately looked anywhere except his glorious, damp, half-naked body. Fuck, these thoughts really weren't helping the Sherlock-induced issue in my pants. My wolf howled inside me, his desperate cries loud in my ears as he begged me to take him. Claim him.

"John, are you alright?" He cleared his throat, finally scenting the adrenaline coursing through my veins. He chuckled nervously, and asked, "Does my nakedness turn you on John?"

"Yes," I challenged, as I daringly looked into his eyes. Electricity surged between us, Sparks flying from our eyes, as I smelled his adrenaline as it spiked. I couldn't look away, as I took an unconscious step towards him. His eyes widened, and pupils dilated, as his breath hitched. I could hear his heart pounding, or was it mine?

"We have a case..." He murmured half-heartedly. I could tell he felt the same overwhelming desire as I did. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

I took a deep breath and looked away, forcing myself to master my wolf. As I locked him back inside the tight confines of his cage, I trembled. I had majorly fucked up this time. I had just met him! "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I couldn't stop... My wolf..." That was the only excuse I had, even though it was completely true, it still sounded weak to my own ears. As the raging desire slowly faded, shame filled its place. I could have hurt him...

"John." His voice was soft, and warm. I looked back into his eyes, eyes filled with an understanding I didn't deserve. He had such a better control of his wolf than I did. "It's alright. I get it, get that the hormones are like going through a second puberty. I just want the first time we make love to be special." He smiled tenderly, and I hesitantly returned it, feeling relief.

"I do too."

I really needed to get my wolf in check.