When john woke up the next morning he was in his own bed, wrapped in his own sheets. Again. How does he do that without waking me up? John wondered, as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. The first thing he noticed was a large blue gift bag on his desk. The second thing he noticed was a small, square envelope of a matching color, with John's full name (scribbled in Sherlock's handwriting) on it. He lifted himself up and snatched up the envelope. He settled back down on his pillow to read it.

"Dear John,

Don't worry about your sheets. They are entirely clean. I cleaned them before I put you back in bed. I got you some Chinese and a Dr. Pepper. I know they're your favorite. I know the Chinese may be cold by the time you wake up, but I remember you saying you like cold Chinese food. I realized that we did not use any lubrication last night. I am immensely sorry for that. I wasn't even thinking. I've only had sex with vampires, you see, and they are all about how tough they are, so I didn't even think about it. I am so sorry. I bought you some witch hazel pads. It's supposed to be good for the pain. Don't smell it though, because it smells awful. I also got some different types of lubrication. Some smell different and taste different, so I got several different ones. I didn't know which one you would want. I saw that you read in the book I was reading and you know about the sexual aspect of a Link. We need to talk about this as soon as you feel up to it. There are also chocolates, because you said a while ago that you hadn't had chocolates in a long time. Call or text me after you're finished reading this. Also, don't worry, there are no classes today. Which is very convenient.

All my love,

Sherlock Holmes."

John grinned at Sherlock's name and folded the note carefully back up. He slipped it back in the envelope and slid it into his pillow case. He then turned to the bag. How is all that stuff in there? There's no way there's enough room. He stood up to find that there were in fact three bags. John suppressed a giggle as he peeked inside the bags. The first one had an abundant amount of Chinese food and a Dr. Pepper. The second one had the witch hazel pads and the chocolates. Sherlock apparently couldn't decide which chocolates to buy, so he bought the whole store's supply. John smiled warmly. The third bag was practically overflowing with lubrication. John giggled and blushed deeply.

Apple flavored…lavender scented…pineapple…cinnamon…caramel…chocolate….i didn't even know they made lube in these flavors and scents. John thought as he looked through the bag. He replaced all the bottles and pulled out his phone, pressing the 3 and hitting the talk button. Three rings later there was a click.

"John," Sherlock said, "Is something wrong?"

"N-no," John giggled again, "Y-you s-said t-to c-call."

"Oh, right," Sherlock answered brightly, "I did indeed say that."

There was the muffled sound of someone talking, but John couldn't hear what they said.

"Shove off, Mycroft!" Sherlock snarled, "Sorry, John. I'm on my way."

"O-ok," John mumbled and the phone clicked.

He carefully put it in his pocket and looked up to the window. He pushed the curtain out of the way to see outside. It's raining; he thought with a smile, I'll wait for Sherlock outside the front gate. John grinned widely and let the curtain fall back. He pranced over to his closet and quickly pulled on some clothes. He practically skipped through the halls with a huge grin plastered on his face. When he made it outside he paused for a moment to allow the rain to wash over him. He suddenly realized that he had to be the happiest boy in the entire world. Just outside the gate he stood, looking up at the sky, his eyes squinting against the rain.

"Hello, Mister Watson," a clear, cool voice startled John out of his daydreaming.

John jumped and twisted around to stare at the body attached to the voice. The man had wide, deviously looking smile directed at John. His cold, dark eyes had a small fire lit in them. He had short, sleek black hair that laid perfectly. He wore a finely tailored suit and had a cane, which was clearly not needed.

"Ya are John Watson, are ya not?" the man had a lofty voice that had a hint of Irish in it.

John felt compelled to nod his head, though he had no idea who this man was. He also knew he was a vampire, but he still felt compelled to confirm that he was indeed John Watson.

"Ya've caused a bit of a stir, Mister Watson," the man told him, "There aren't many Links formed, Mr. Watson. It's always quite a scandal when one is. But I bet ya're wondering who I am."

John nodded dumbly again.

"Ya could say I'm a friend," the man replied, with his mouth twisting in another cold smile, "More a friend of your Sherlock Holmes, than you though."

"I-i-I'm n-not a-afraid," John finally managed to find his voice, "Sh-sherlock w-would k-kill y-you."

"Yes, well, he's not here, is he?" the man said coolly, "But that's not the point. I'm here to warn you. There's about to be a whirlwind a trouble and ya're gonna be in the middle of it, Mister Watson."

"I-I'm st-still not a-afraid!" John said as firmly as he could muster.

"Well, ya should be," the man replied unperturbed, "oh, and when ya tell Sherlock about this, ya can tell him my name is James Moriarty."

Before John could question him further, Moriarty was gone. John looked around, though he knew he wouldn't see him. Dam vampires! They're bloody everywhere! He sighed heavily and shrugged, hoping it was just an idle threat. Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder. He shrieked in surprise and thrashed out at the body attached to the hand.

"John! What're you doing!? Stop!" Sherlock cried.

John froze at Sherlock's voice, realizing that the hand was his. He breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled nervously.

"Y-you sc-scared me," john clutched his chest, willing his heart to stop pounding.

"Sorry, my fault entirely," Sherlock said briskly, "I clearly should have made my presence none another way. It won't happen again."

"I-it's o-ok, Sh-sherlock," John patted his arm, "N-no b-b-big d-deal."

"What has got you so flustered, John?" Sherlock questioned.

"J-j-just th-this m-man," John quickly explained about James Moriarty.

"I don't know him," Sherlock shrugged, "Besides, I have no friends. Except for you."

"O-oh," John's heart broke a little at learning this.

Sherlock swooped down and pressed a small kiss on John's cheek. John smiled up at him sweetly. He then turned a bit and lifted his head up. He closed his eyes and smiled. He didn't know why, but he lifted up his hands, palms facing the clouds. Sherlock stood off to the side, quietly observing John's strange behavior. Why is he doing that? Sherlock wondered. Even John didn't know, but he knew he felt like he could do it forever.

Little note: Moriarty's voice is just like in the show, so if there was confusion there, it's just like the show. Hope you guys enjoyed it! Thank you for all your follows, favorites, and reviews! Thank you to starrysummernights, Tern, EmoCheerleaderChellie, and ThatOneGingerKid for the multiple reviews and wonderful feedback! And welcome to all the recent followers! Love you guys!