After the movie (Sherlock had managed to deduce a few things), the boys were reluctant to get up. Tangled and warm they were content, but eventually John pulled Sherlock up to his feet and out the door. Snow was beginning to fall, and it really was beautiful with the sun setting in the background. They walked in silence to the café, and opened the jingling door to a small breeze of warm wind from inside. Instead of the pretty girl behind the counter, a middle aged Asian man was watching cookies baking while humming to himself. At the sound of the door he jumped a bit and greeted them with an overly bright smile. "Hello! Welcome! What can I get you?" He chirped, almost literally jumping.

"Er, two apple cider's and two… biscuits. To go, please." John asked, sensing the uneasy aura this man gave off. "Of course," he smiled and fixed their order. Looking around a bit, Sherlock noticed that the place had been recently cleaned, down to the floors being scrubbed. Odd. John left a bill on the counter and took the small paper bag and one of the small cups. Sherlock took the other and together they walked out, the door jingling behind them. "Was it just me or did something seem off?" John asked. "I sensed it too, I wonder where that girl went, she seemed nice." Sherlock responded. "yeah" John responded and took a sip of his sweet drink. "Mm, this is good." The warm liquid seeped down his throat, warming John up from the inside in the chilly air.

Sherlock mirrored him and sighed in content. They found a small pavilion with few other people and many open tables, lit up from the various street lights, shops and a bright moon. John laid out their treats and for a while neither talked, just respectively enjoyed the brisk night. "So, now that my grades are back up and stuff coach asked me to join the football team again." John said sort of quietly. "Oh… that's great! I mean you deserve it," Sherlock seemed lost for words. "I think it'll be fun," John said, "you could come watch me, if you want of course, and I might get a scholarship, and, yeah" John continued. Sherlock smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, if you're not okay with this, then I won't do it," John looked confused.

"No, no you should do it, it's a great opportunity. I support you fully, but we'll still hang out right? I mean with school, and work, and football I-" Sherlock started but John hushed him. "Of course we'll hang out. I wouldn't give up time with you for the largest scholarship in the world. Plus its only Tuesday and Thursday after school, I'll work out a schedule with my boss and we'll be all set." John assured Sherlock, who grinned and took another sip of his drink.

"It's getting late, we should head back." Sherlock suggested, to which John nodded and scooped up their garbage. John tossed it and started walking with Sherlock back to his house. John wanted to take them out for dinner the next night, but he didn't know if he should tell Sherlock yet, or how to bring up the subject or anything.

In the warmth and comfort of Sherlock's bedroom, John was playing Minecraft on Sherlock's computer while the other was reading a book on his bed. "This game is so cool! I'm playing survival, but look how much stuff I have already. This map is the best!" John praised while Sherlock hummed, half listening. "So Sherlock, is your family going to be home tomorrow?" John asked, eyes still glued on the screen. Sherlock perked up, curious. "Yes, may I ask why?" John paused the game and spun in the chair to meet Sherlock's inquisitive gaze. "Well, over the past while you guys have done so much for me, more than I could ever repay, so as a small token of appreciation I'd like to take you all out for dinner." John shied, a little embarrassed. "John, we're happy to help. You don't need to repay anything." Sherlock assured him, stunned.

"I'd like to, please? It will make me feel better about this situation, less guilty. Please, let me do this." John pleaded. "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm. I'll talk to my parents, and Mycroft I guess." Sherlock sighed. "Oh and tell Mycroft to invite that Greg guy, he seems more relaxed when he's around." John added. Sherlock nodded and lay back down in his bed. "In the morning." After Sherlock finished his chapter, he set his book down and turned off his bedside lamp. Then he turned on his side and closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the clicking of computer keys as John played the game.

John lost track of time. By the time he tore his eyes away from the screen the clock read 2:00am. The room spun in little squares and cubes, but John managed to save his progress and flip the lid down. Then he stumbled over to their shared bed and fell asleep, one leg dangling over the side of the bed, one arm tucked behind his head.

When John awoke the next morning, sun was beaming through the window and Sherlock was nowhere in sight. John had a slight headache, and winced at the natural light flowing into his eyes. He rolled onto the floor, and stood up. He stretched a bit and, still in his PJ's, went down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. The house seemed quiet, John couldn't hear the TV, or the stove, or voices, or anything really. All was silent, until a toilet flushed from the downstairs bathroom and Sherlock stepped out. Sherlock was already dressed and poised, and grinned at the disheveled John.

"My parents and brother are out, though I caught them before they left. Said you don't need to do anything for them, but eventually said dinner sounds lovely. Mycroft'll bring Greg 'round and we're all yours." Sherlock said in one breath. John grinned lopsidedly. "Great, so whatd'ya wanna do 'till then?" John replied, yawning. "I have a PlayStation, you wanna play? I got the new Call of Duty." Sherlock asked. "Sure, although you'll have to teach me how to play." John replied grinning.

An hour later, Sherlock and John were sprawled on opposite couches. The end stats of the first few games were ghastly for John, but he quickly learned after that. Aim improved, strategy defined. The fourth survival round started, and John was ready. He ended up killing more people than Sherlock. "You're getting good," Sherlock said after the seventh wave was cleared. "Thanks, you know, maybe one day I'll join the army," John said, half to himself. Sherlock sat up. "The army? Wha- what… why?" He asked. John winced a little. "I don't know, defending the country, doing my duty, don't worry it's just a thought. Not planning anything anytime soon. I want to go to med school but I don't have the money for it. Oh well, I'll find a way." John didn't talk the rest of the game.

Hours went by filled with junk food, lazing around, tossing a ball, playing video games, and soon enough Mrs. And Mr. Holmes walked through the front door. It was five, ready to leave soon. John asked them to meet him at Doppia faccia in forty minutes. "Are you sure John? Really we love having you, and-" But John cut her off. "I'm positive, I've been saving. Plus it's the least I can do. I'll see you guys soon." John left before anyone could get another word in.

Breathing in the air of London, fresh and cool, John made his way into the city. He went to his hole and gathered the money, and changed into jeans (slightly worn) and a button down he just bought. Then he went into a public washroom nearby and washed his hair, dried off and made his way towards the elegant building. He entered and a quite buff man with tattoos protruding from under his shirt were visible. "Hello, and welcome. Are you expecting others?" The man asked, his moustache twitching. It sounded slightly rehearsed and fake but John didn't take it to care. "Yes, um, five others." John said.

"Very well. Right this way," The man started walking down an aisle of long tables. "Say, you must be John Watson, eh?" He asked. John opened his mouth, and for a moment nothing came out. "Relax boy, Angelo told me you might be coming around. Stalky blonde boy with good manners. You fit. Names Vinci, nice to meet you." Vinci stuck out his hand, suddenly all chirpy. John shook his hand, "Nice to meet you, sir." John awkwardly smiled. "Call me Vinci, I'll send yo' people 'round when they get here. 'till then, anything I can get you?" Vinci was smiling, kind of creepily now. "Um, No thank you, I'll wait. Thanks." John smiled again before resting his elbows on the table. Vinci nodded and scurried off, leaving John to question who this guy really was. A waiter? A door greeter? Manager? Who would Angelo speak to that would look for him specifically.

John dismissed the thoughts as the bell on the door jingled, and his party walked in.