A/n: So I have Sherlock and John stories lined up for when John gets the violin and Sherlock getting a tat. I might post them in the original story, at least John's, so watch out for that. I'm not totally sure where I'm going to put them. They kind of fit better here but I also kind of want to put the two of them with the original story.

Reunion

Greg tapped his foot nervously and continued to nurse his glass of scotch. John had almost drained his third glass and was laughing more and more easily at Greg's stories about crazy things criminals did when they were arrested. It was just over two hours ago that Greg had received emails from Mycroft explaining Sherlock was in fact alive. John seemed to have relaxed and forgotten that Greg had just decided to pop by weeks before his birthday.

He had sent Mycroft two emails since he arrived to ask about Sherlock, but received no response. He was beginning to wonder if Mycroft Holmes was capable of pulling a practical joke when he heard his phone go off from his coat pocket.

Sherlock is back in London. He will reach the flat in approximately 15 minutes.- MH

"Thank God," Greg sighed. He was running out of reasons to hang around the flat. John looked up from his drink at his friend. Greg scrambled for an explanation. "Ah…the test results won't take very long. Apparently the lab doesn't have much to do."

"Good. I could drink to that. Catch those bastards that ruined a perfectly good jumper." John and Greg finished their drinks after they toasted. Greg chuckled nervously. He glanced at his watch.

"You probably need to head home don't you?" John stood and stretched. Greg tried to shake his head, but John pulled him up to his feet. "Truth be told I should probably be getting to bed. I have an earlier shift in the morning. Sarah scheduled me right at opening tomorrow."

Greg was trying to back pedal the conversation to no avail and by the time they got to the door he was saying goodbye to John. As John reached for the door handle there was a knock on the other side and Greg's stomach dropped.

"Your wife coming to find you?" John joked. Greg tried to smile, but he knew it looked terrible on his face. He saw Sherlock on the other side as John opened the door. When John turned, he dropped the empty glass he was holding and Sherlock caught it with one hand. After a few moments of staring John reached a hand out and grabbed Sherlock's other wrist then jerked back when he actually felt flesh.

If it was possible, Sherlock was skinnier than Greg remembered. His eyes, while still the same steely grey, seemed dull compared to their normal excited look. He seemed to brighten when he saw Greg and John. He even smiled at the two of them while they stared. The mop of dark curls seemed even more messy and wild.

"Sherlock…" John managed. The tall dark haired man in the doorframe nodded.

"Hello John…I um…may I come in?" Sherlock asked. John and Greg were blocking the doorway while they gaped at him. When they moved aside, Sherlock and Greg shook hands and Greg smiled at him. Sherlock walked over to the bottle of scotch and poured a glass for himself into the one he had saved from clashing to the floor. He nodded at Lestrade. "Thank you for coming Greg."

"I wasn't sure if Mycroft could joke, but I was certain he was lying. I couldn't believe you would be alive and coming back here." Greg mumbled. He saw John's head shoot up. Sherlock began inspecting the flat.

"He was not. I am very much alive, obviously." Sherlock continued to move around the space that he had once lived in. He looked in the kitchen then at his chair. He turned the skull so it was once again facing the room. Then he cross the flat and opened his bedroom door. He visibly sagged when he saw nothing in there was touched from either relief or regret Greg wasn't sure. He stepped into the room and moved some things around.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Mycroft has them. He came about six months ago and took everything." Greg explained when John didn't answer.

"Hmmm…my experiments?"

"Gone. Mrs. Hudson got rid of them in between when you died…er jumped and when John moved back in. After one exploded, she decided it was silly to hang onto them." Greg supplied again. Sherlock's head shot up when Greg mentioned John's leave from the flat. He looked around the kitchen again. He continued to move things about for a few minutes which Greg assumed was from nervous energy. Both of them kept glancing at John.

"How long?" Sherlock asked Greg.

"Long?"

"Till one exploded."

"About a month."

"Stupid. She should have thrown them away immediately. All those chemicals sitting around stewing. She's lucky I didn't have something more volatile here…" Sherlock trailed off thinking.

"Don't blame Mrs. Hudson." John growled. Sherlock went silent again. He looked in the fridge and opened all the cabinets.

"What are you hunting for?" Greg finally asked.

"Something decent to eat."

"To eat?" Greg asked incredulous.

"Yes I've been traveling for two days straight and I've had nothing but airplane food and biscuits to live on." Sherlock grumbled as he continued his search.

"You don't eat every day." Greg commented remembering what John had told him about Sherlock.

"Well no, but John…where is the tea?" Sherlock called.

"What do you need tea for if you're hungry?" Greg threw his hands in the air completely confused.

"I'm going to need to know where he put it if I'm going to live here again." Sherlock supplied.

"Live here again?" Greg whispered. He saw John move from the doorway towards the kitchen.

"This is the most agreeable living arrangement I've experienced. Therefore, now that I'm back in London, I'll move back here." Sherlock explained to the two other men who gaped at him.

"If John wants you back…" Greg trailed off.

"Of course he does! Right John? You'll have me back." Sherlock clasped him on the shoulder. His expression was almost desperate. He looked straight down at John, who Greg was sure, was in shock.

"Yes." John told him as if hypnotized.

"See?" Sherlock's face lit up like a Christmas tree. It only lasted a few moments though.

"And where have you been?" John's stupefied demeanor had vanished and he now looked like a bull ready to charge at Sherlock.

Greg knew that tone and physically took a few steps back away from John. Sherlock looked at him curiously. Greg had been on the receiving end of John's hot temper more than once and didn't want to get in the way of the words or punches that John might throw. He had known this was a possibility going into this evening, but he wanted to be here for a reunion not a domestic dispute. Greg was thinking maybe the scotch had been a bad idea. John could be feisty when he drank and he was very agitated.

"In hiding, abroad." Sherlock waved a hand as if to bat the question away. He sounded unconcerned.

"Abroad?" John growled. Greg was sure he was going to explode.

"Yes yes. It doesn't matter." Sherlock shrugged.

"Three years and it doesn't matter?" John's voice almost screeched.

"Yes, regrettably." Sherlock sounded bitter but stopped flitting around the room and faced John. The short man's face was red and he was trying to keep his cool, but anyone could see he was losing control of the situation.

"You have been alive all this time and I've been…my god this is ridiculous." Greg felt for John. He had been through tremendous struggles after that day at the hospital and Sherlock was acting like he had been gone a few days rather than years.

"John try to understand…" Sherlock started

"Try to understand what?" John was shouting. Mrs. Hudson would be coming any moment. "I've been living here in this hell for three years while you hid abroad. I thought you were dead! I buried you Sherlock! Now you come back and move everything back to where it was? You are going to act like it never happened?"

John walked over to the fireplace. He grabbed a duffle that was sitting at the end of the desk. Greg knew that bag. John had spent more evenings at Harry's place over the past few years than Greg had spent in the office chasing criminals and working on processing arrests. Leaving the flat like this wasn't going to help this time.

"John, I think you should stop for a second and let him explain what is going on." Greg interjected to his friend. He couldn't blame John for being angry, but he didn't want John to say or do anything he might regret later. John paused and looked expectantly at Sherlock who looked like he was struggling for words. John patience wore thin in a few moments and he glared at both Greg and Sherlock.

"You knew about this? Did you know about this the whole time?" John asked now turning on Greg.

"Mycroft told me Sherlock was coming back tonight. Before that I was as clueless as you. I thought he was dead too. I wasn't even sure if Mycroft was telling the truth when he contacted me so I didn't say anything." Greg shrugged trying to calm his friend and John nodded a few times.

"Let him stay here by himself for a while and see how it feels." John jerked his head toward Sherlock and his voice had venom in it. John headed toward the door. Greg followed him hoping to calm John down. When they reached the door to the street, John turned to Greg again. "If you tell him anything about what happened earlier, anything about my tats, I'll kick you both out and neither one of you will ever see me again."

"I won't you know that." The army doctor nodded. He slung his duffle over his shoulder and hailed a cab from the sidewalk. Greg walked back up to the flat.

Sherlock was sitting in his chair with his head in his hands.

"He's gone?"

"Yes to Harry's. He'll be back in the morning. He hates her couch after he sleeps on it." Greg explained.

"You seem to know a lot about him. More than I could deduce from sitting here." Sherlock grumbled while his eyes were all questions.

"Someone had to fill the void. It started out as him hating me for not standing by you, but slowly he and I became mates." Greg shrugged. It had been a long process, but it seemed like ages ago now. He sat in John's chair.

"I thought telling him as little as possible and going back to normal as quickly as possible would have been the right thing to do." Sherlock shook his head.

"I think the moment you came back was too quickly Sherlock. He needs an explanation and a true one. He was a wreck when it happened. This…" Greg waved his hand at Sherlock. "…changed him. He's a different John Watson than you knew, but he's a lot the same too."

"Time changes everyone."

"Yes." Greg stood. "I was here to keep the peace and now that John's gone I think it will hold. I have to get home. Keep the scotch. I think you'll need it."

Sherlock stood too and walked Greg to the door.

"Thank you. I think you've been a better friend to John than I ever was."

"Yes, well somehow I still think he likes you better." Greg smiled and Sherlock cocked his head. "I'll be off. Goodnight Sherlock."

A/N: Ideas are popping into my head after months of blank stares at this! Input appreciated.