A/N: I felt like another update this weekend. It's shorter because it felt natural to end it there. Point: if you haven't read Chapter 4 yet GO DO IT. Might be a while before I update again, so think of this as a little calm-before-the-storm tip-off before intermission. Reviews, advice, favourites and follows are like seven percent solution to my imagination.
Chapter 5: Palinode
"Sherlock," John begins, slowly and ever so carefully enunciating his words, "What was that?"
"We need to establish some intimate familiarity, or else the murderer won't take note of us, John," Sherlock says emphatically.
John crosses his arms, rocks back on his heels and his lips tug into a smile that's not a smile, "Right, yeah, and that makes it okay to kiss me out of the blue does it?"
"I knew you would protest. I needed to catch you by surprise and once I'd done it once I hoped you would be more understanding of the need for this," Sherlock says.
"No, that's not - that's not how it works, Sherlock! You're unbelievable," John shakes his head, letting out a breathy, humorless laugh, "I should file a report against you for sexual harassment. No, actually, harassment in general."
Sherlock snorts, "Well what do you expect to happen when we turn up to get married? Of course we'll have to kiss and act like we're all rainbows and sunshine!"
John raises his eyebrows, "That does not justify the kiss. You could have told me, Sherlock. I did not give you my consent!"
Sherlock's gaze narrows at him, "You would not have said yes, so I took matters into my own hands. Besides, I didn't hear you making any protests."
John's hackles rise, "Now, hang on - that has nothing to do with this!"
"You froze, but with instincts as honed as yours from long-term training and military service you could have easily pushed me away before I kissed you," Sherlock interrupts, eyes blazing and frightening in their intensity, "But you didn't. In fact, you were about to start kissing back before Molly interrupted us."
John takes a deep breath and tries to reign in his temper before he says something he'll regret.
Then a thought occurs to him and his eyes narrow in return, "That was an awfully convenient interruption."
Sherlock's features school into a perfect mask of indifference. Too perfect - which is exactly how John knows it's fake.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Sherlock says with an arrogant jerk of his head, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets.
"Oh come off it. You know what time to expect me to arrive here from the clinic, but not when Molly will come back from whatever it was you sent her to get? What's that all about, hmm? What's your angle?" John's eyes are steadfast and he stands tall - or, as tall as he can manage.
Literal height is irrelevant anyway. He didn't earn the title of 'Captain' for nothing.
Sherlock looks down his nose at him, before rolling his eyes and striding away and out of the doors like a cloaked villain in a children's cartoon.