They walked quickly around the backstreets of London. Sherlock knew the exact route through those places which would the most deserted places at this time of day, and exactly as he had predicted, they didn't encounter a living soul. Fortunately, this meant that after five minutes of walking John had taken hold of his hand. His grip was like iron, his fingers curling around Sherlock's own with such ferocity that he felt sure it would cut off his circulation. But Sherlock didn't care what damage it was doing to him, he wanted to make sure that he could hold onto John no matter the cost.

The café was small, and stank of grease and oil from the deep-fat fryer. But the owner was a friend of Sherlock's and the greasy spoon was almost always deserted.

"Do you want something to eat John?"

"Erm..yes, I'll get it. You won't be eating, right?"

"No, I had something at Molly's-yesterday I think. But I'm getting this. The owner owes me a favour"

"Why?"

"I proved that his wife wasn't a drug dealer and that he wasn't a pimp"

"Ooooof course you did." He elongated the 'o' sound showing his surprise, but also the opposing predictability of Sherlock's actions "Go up and order me 4 slices of toast and jam?"

"Ah, your affixation with strawberry jam. Four slices? You must be hungry"

"Well….crying does that to you" he whispered, blushing slightly.

Sherlock looked at him seriously "John, I-I can't apologise enough. I know you'll never be able to let this go. That you'll never be able to fully trust me, or even let me out of your sight. But I can't bear to see you in pain. I promise I'll never hurt you again" Instead of waiting for a response, he walked away to the counter to get John's food. There was no point he knew exactly what John would have said anyway-"Yes, you're right. You're always right Sherlock, and just-just be more careful and TELL me what you're planning". Okay, maybe he had embellished a little on the 'you're always right part'; but that's what John would have said, if not in fear of being held to those words later. He was sure if it.

Sherlock had decided to order a cup of tea each to and added extra sugar to John's , for the shock (well it helped would release endorphins into the bloodstream and would help him 'come down' after the adrenaline rush), when John tasted it he made a face but drank it anyway.

When the toast came it was on a very light bluey- green plate, almost the exact colour of Sherlock's eyes today ,for some unknown reason they tended to change. John had devoured the first slice in a matter of seconds. Sherlock sat and waited, surprisingly patient.

John swallowed his mouthful, licking the strawberry jam off his lips in a manner that made Sherlock's stomach jolt. This is new, he thought, was this attraction to John? He had never really been attracted to anyone before, had never had those desires of which he could remember.

"Sherlock, I know this is probably a very new feeling to you, but when did you know-"

"That I loved you? Well, I think it must have been since we first met. But for a while, I was in denial. I decided that I would never let myself give into it. Until now, that is"

"But then why did you do it…why did you leave me like that? How could you?" John was again close to tears, he seemed to be a lot more emotional of late.

Sherlock sighed heavily; when he had explained everything to John he had edited the story a little, saying that Moriaty had forced him, at gunpoint, to jump. He had actually been a little surprised when John believed that, he usually wasn't that gullible. But it was better that he had believed that.

"I may have modified the story of what happened on the roof a little…."

"Sherlock!" John almost shouted, exasperated. He took a deep breath then said "Tell me. "

So he explained about the positioned snipers, ready to shoot if he hadn't jumped.

"You did that…you gave up everything to protect me?"

"You would have been killed!"

Both of them had ignored the fact, at least for that moment, that Sherlock had done it to save Lestrade and Mrs Hudson too.

"I just. I would have never expected you to do that, Sherlock. You didn't need to, I can look after myself"

"There was no way that you could have evaded that."

"Well, maybe not. It's just that…well, Sherlock you never seem to care for anyone –apart from perhaps Mrs Hudson. And you don't seem to have feelings like a normal person"

"The truth is John" He started at John, who had now stopped eating entirely and was looking at him in disbelief. Though he often looked at Sherlock that way "I never really thought I had 'feelings'. But when I met you that all changed. Of course I cared for Mrs Hudson, but I never felt truly close to her. She was just another person there to help me"

John started to say something but realised that Sherlock hadn't finished. He had paused, but not stopped and that was very unlike Sherlock.

"When we met, that started to change. I realised that there were people that I did care for. Especially you, John"

John's face had turned a deep scarlet; it was so easy to make him blush. And Sherlock found that the deeper the blush was, the more he enjoyed making John look like that.

"What do we do now then?"

"Nothing much for a while. I still need to get to Tolviska. One of Moriarty's men" he added when he saw that John was looking confused "But he's not in the country right now, and I need to wait for him to come back until I can do anything, unfortunately"

"What about the rest?"

"I have eliminated them all. What with the internet, I have been able to complete this task very quickly, as well as my obvious superior intellect"

"Yeah Sherlock, I see you're still full of yourself. Not that I mind, I like that you're ….confident" He had changed the last part of the sentence when Sherlock had looked offended.

Sherlock wouldn't usually be hurt by anything like that. Actually, he had put up a wall against those comments a long time ago. But coming from John who was always so full of praise, his cheerleader, it stung. But John then had made it all better. John could always cheer him up, make him feel better. Though he had never said it before, whenever he was bored due to the fact that he didn't have a case it would be John that stopped him from tuning to cigarettes (or anything else for that matter).

They spoke about trivial things for a while, apparently Mrs Hudson had dumped her last beau – as she called him- after she had found out he had a previous history of exploiting the women he was with. Sherlock had tried to tell her as much but she had refused to listen, telling him not to be silly. She was so happy in that little world of hers.

They left, without any aim as to where they would go now.

As he got up and walked towards the door Sherlock saw that, just as when they had had that first meal at Angelo's, John had left his cane by the table.