Hello lovely people! I was planning on getting this up yesterday, but my mind got a bit stuck... I just really want to thank you for the kind words I have recieved! And a huge hug to my new followers/favouriters to this story: Sanqvi, Lurigna, Cati3M, Memphisyourastar, saturn88jpyahoo, jujulib63 and Ellicinderpart, you guys make me dance with happiness!

Anyway, I hope this lives up to your expectations. Here we go! :)

Chapter 7

John stood dead frozen. He knew exactly what those words meant. But no, he couldn't lose everything now; he had to come up with something. Sherlock still stood with his gaze locked upon John, but now his eyes held a look of sudden understanding. And when John met his eyes again, he could see his secret reflected in Sherlock's eyes, as if looking into a mirror. But John wasn't ready, not yet. He wasn't prepared to hear the words out loud. Faking a puzzled look he said "I really don't follow you Sherlock." And before Sherlock had any time to reply he cleared his throat and quickly added "I feel a bit tired, I should probably go to bed. Might be a cold or something on the way…" He trailed off, knowing that the terribly bad lie was not going to fool anyone, least of all Sherlock. But John figured if he could just get out of the room, and away from Sherlock, it would all be forgotten. He really couldn't stand it any longer, and as he felt his eyes start to prickle he started walking towards his bedroom.

"But John…" Sherlock sounded questioning, and he grabbed John's arm to stop him from leaving.

"Sherlock I can't….please…I'm not...just let me go alright? I'll talk to you in the morning" John almost whispered, his face turned away from Sherlock so he wouldn't be able to see how his eyes had filled with stupid tears. Sherlock didn't say anything, but let him go. John felt his eyes on his back as he closed the door behind him.

He slumped down on the bed, ignoring the tears now running from his eyes. He knew it was over, that Sherlock knew. He didn't even get a chance to prepare himself, and now it was all ruined. He knew that just because he ran out this time, it wouldn't disappear. Sherlock would bring it up at some point; he just had to be prepared when it happened. John sighed and lay down on the bed. Hadn't he learned too many times that running away from your problems doesn't solve them? They just come back later, biting your ass. With his thoughts in a messy heap, John fell asleep, dreading the following day.

But Sherlock didn't bring it up the next day. When John came into the kitchen the next morning he found Sherlock by the stove, frying pancakes (?). He greeted John in a cheerful tone. "Good morning John, I hope you slept well" This was a rather unnecessary comment, giving the huge black circles under John's eyes, but he chose to ignore that. Sherlock went on "I have made you pancakes; I figured you would want something steady today. We have got a case John!" Sherlock's eyes gleamed with joy as he dumped a pile of pancakes on John's plate and, to John's delight; he served some to himself as well. "Well if Sherlock doesn't bring up last night, I certainly won't either" John thought, a bit relieved, though not entirely certain, and with a "Thank you" to Sherlock, he started on his pancakes.

An hour later they were in a cab heading towards the Yard. Sherlock had briefed John quickly about the case. A body had been found in an alley, but the heart was missing and nowhere to be found. But there was one more thing; there was a message on the wall beside the body, written in what seemed to be blood, but that's all they knew. Sherlock didn't know what the message was yet, but John could tell the other man was excited as a child on Christmas. Trying to forget the awkward last night, John smiled at Sherlock. He would never grow tired of the atmosphere Sherlock created around him when he got a case.

When they were just about to walk into Lestrade's office, the door opened and they nearly bumped into Mycroft. John was surprised, but Sherlock seemed like it was an every-day thing that he met his brother down at the Yard. "Oh hello brother! Grown sudden interests in investigation have you?" Sherlock's voice was dripping with sarcasm. But Mycroft wasn't far behind, "Yes as a matter of fact I have dear brother. It just depends on what…area you're investigating" he replied, smirking at Sherlock. And with a quick glance back at Lestrade and a small nod in John's direction, he was off.

Lestrade seemed very embarrassed and was obviously trying to come up with a reasonable explanation to why the head of the British Government suddenly had decided to check in. But before he could come up with anything, Sherlock cut in "Oh get over it Lestrade. We all know you've been shagging for months. Just bring me the file so I can get to work. I sincerely hope that is why you called me in, and not to ask for permission to date my brother or anything like that?" Lestrade went tomato-red, but managed to stutter out something about getting the file and he quickly exited his office.

"You should leave him alone Sherlock" John said, imagining Lestrade's embarrassment. But Sherlock took no notice of him, and threw himself over the material which Lestrade brought in a moment later. There wasn't a lot, since the body had been found just hours ago. But there were some photos of the body, and the message on the wall. Well, message was sort of an overstatement; it was actually just one word, "Tinkor." John couldn't possible understand what it all meant, but Sherlock's face lit up when he saw the word. "Oh it's clever alright, really clever…" and with a sharper voice he said "Lestrade, I think we can expect several more bodies in the next few days. Now bring us to the crime-scene."

"How do you know it will be more bodies?" John asked puzzled. "Oh can't you see it?" Sherlock walked out the door shouting back as he went.

"It's a game John. It's finally a game!"