Notes: This particular fic is the product of one of my friends being thoroughly pissed off at me, a can of Diet Coke, a small bag of Cheetos puffs, and William Wordsworth poetry. Also, the word 'Obvious'. Oh, yeah, this takes place after 'The Empty House', so Mary's dead. I never liked her, anyway.

Warnings: Um, slight angst, probably some OOCness on Holmes' part…oh, and Watson blowing a fuse.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; I own only the plot and dialogue.

Obvious

'Watson, do you love me?' asked Holmes suddenly one day as we took tea in the sitting room.

'What?!' I cried in outrage. 'I have never heard such-such a ridiculous accusation in all my life!'

'Really?' Holmes asked, staring at me keenly and slowly moving closer until he stood very near to my chair, towering over me.

I must confess that his proximity to my person frightened me a little, for I saw a glint that I was unfamiliar with in his mercury-colored eyes as he grinned as widely as a Cheshire Cat.

'Watson, do love me?' he inquired again, his eyes flashing wickedly as he bent his face closer to mine.

'N-no...' My lungs felt odd, as though they might simply deflate any moment.

'Ah, but, my dear Watson, your behavior tells me otherwise!' he smirked.

I recovered some of my courage and managed to make my 'Oh?' sound at least a little challenging.

'Indeed, my friend. Your constant worry for the state of my health-'

'That is because I am your doctor, Holmes!' I cried in indignation.

He continued as though I hadn't interrupted him. 'Your mother-hen mannerisms, your need to know exactly where I am at all times-'

Once again, I burst in with, 'The concern of a friend, you fool!'

'The way your eyes follow me and the way you stare-'

'I do not!' I hissed.

'The way your breathing has sped up due to our closeness at this moment-'

'Good God, man! That's because this is all very strange! Why the cross-examination, Holmes? Hm?' I demanded harshly.

'I simply wanted to be sure of it. I had suspected it for a little while before this, however. Your feelings, Watson, are quite obvious,' he stated.

I balled my hands into fists and closed my eyes, counting carefully and slowly to ten before I opened them and unclenched my hands. 'Very well, Holmes. You are right. I have always-been-always-loved you,' I admitted, slumping down in my chair. 'Are you happy now? Are you proud? Proud that your deductive skills have served you so well?'

'Oh, my dear Watson-'

I sprang up, forcing Holmes to jump backwards to avoid colliding with me. 'Do not call me that!' I shouted, reaching for my cane. 'Do you have any idea, Holmes, how much it pains me when you say that? Do you have any idea how much hope and despair those three words have caused me all these years? Because I know you did not mean them in the sense that I wish you did, because those words are mocking! Yet every time you utter them, I cannot help but feel a small blossom of hope inside me, hope that, perhaps, you felt the same! You have no idea how much this has all plagued me!'

I was waving my cane now, half-blind with fury and shame. All of a sudden, I found my arms pinned to my sides by another pair of arms, lean and wiry and muscular. My emotion at finally being enclosed in these arms was so great that I dropped my cane, and it rolled under the divan, to be forgotten until I needed it later.

However, I was still angry, and shivering in rage. Holmes, bringing one arm up, patted and rubbed my back in soothing circles, while whispering simple nonsense until I was calm again. The adrenaline rush that had accompanied my burst of anger deserted me completely and I felt quite drained and weak, and so had no choice but to lean against Holmes for support, and put my arms around him as well.

Holmes brought his lips to my ear and murmured, 'My dear Watson-'

At those words I started and jumped slightly, but he continued hurriedly, 'My dear Watson, I do mean the words. I mean them every time I say them. In the past, they were my only chance to call you dear, to call you mine! I wished so much to simply tell you. However, I feared that you would become angry, or worse, horrified at what I am. I did not know then what I do now, else I would have tried to tell you so much sooner! Then we need not have wasted so many years pining over our now-obvious mutual affection!' With the last words he crushed me ever tighter to him.

'But-but Holmes, you gave me no sign, no clues, as to your feelings!' I protested weakly. 'Do not say this because you feel guilty for hurting me.'

He raised his head and stared me in the eye. 'No signs? No clues? Watson! (Here his tone turned almost reproachful.) Why on earth do you think I tried so very hard to prevent you from marrying Miss Morstan? Why do you think I did not attend your wedding when you did? I was jealous! I felt as though the fair Miss Morstan was stealing you from me, and I detested that! I...detested her, for a time. Then I loathed myself for being jealous of your happiness. Still, I thought that you must know of my feelings! I felt that I was being perfectly obvious.'

'Oh, Holmes! Now I feel like a dreadful idiot!' I said, shaking my head in remorse.

'That is quite alright Watson; after all, 'We are all fools in love.' I know not who said that, but they may as well have been talking about us directly, for it quite apparent that we are both utter fools!' Holmes crowed, and then placed a kiss on my forehead.

'Fools, indeed!' I muttered quietly.