John followed Sherlock into the flat, irritated and flustered, worried. "I don't see how you could have let this happen," John said roughly as he picked up the first aid kit. "I don't understand why you're making such a large fuss over a little cut," Sherlock exclaimed as he sat down. There was a beautiful gash on his shoulder from where the thief had decided he wanted to use weaponry. As Sherlock attempted to fight him off, he hardly realized the knife the woman had pulled out. It hurt, yes, but he didn't care about that at the moment. He cared about the facts he had collected. "Show me the cut," John said as he brought over a basin of water. "Why?" "Because you're bleeding! I need to fix it!" Sherlock rolled his eyes and took the jacket off. "And the shirt," John demanded sternly. Sherlock rolled his eyes once more but took the shirt off, showing the cut to John. It was already slightly infected and looked slightly bruised around the wound. "He was rough, was he," John asked as he cleaned the wound with the wash cloth. "She had a ski mask on. Why would you have a ski mask on?" "Because he's a thief," John asked sarcastically. "Yes but that's not the point. She was also wearing a disguise. A wig." "And you know that how?" "There was no hair on her coat. Now either she doesn't have any hair whatsoever-" "Sherlock, this cut is awful, what did he do?" Sherlock looked away and laughed, slightly sarcastic. "She pulled out a knife and cut me John, I know you aren't as intelligent but my Lord, you're not stupid-" "No I'm not but I just don't understand how you could possibly let this happen! Why weren't you being careful, why would you let him-" "Her-" "Sherlock," John said, making him keep eye contact. Sherlock swallowed hard as though mentally rejecting the tension, and John looked away nervously, picking up the peroxide, "You can't keep carelessly walking around these...murderers and just expect it to be ok." "Why do you care? You don't, you are just a colleague remember?" "I do care," John snapped, looking at Sherlock, "More than you know! And I do not want to come to know that you've been murdered!" Sherlock watched him slowly and John went back to work. "You really care about me," Sherlock asked quietly. John gave a stiff nod and Sherlock put his hand on John's wrist, moving it down so John would take his attention from the work, just once. "John, do you really care about me?" John nodded without hesitation saying, "Yes, of course," and Sherlock stared for a minute. He grabbed John's face and pulled him in, kissing him deeply. John was shocked for about three seconds before he let the kiss take him. He ran a hand on Sherlock's bare chest and another through his hair. The kiss finally broke and Sherlock took a sharp breath. "Was that too much," he asked softly, letting his hands drop. John hesitated but shook his head, letting his own hands fall in his lap. Sherlock nodded stiffly and John leaned forward, kissing him again very gently then pulling him in, letting Sherlock's head rest gently on his shoulder. "You know I won't leave the murderer's alone," Sherlock mumbled into John's collar. John sighed and ran a hand in Sherlock's hair. "Sherlock...you're hopeless."