It's been forever (3 1/2 months) since I promised two more chapters. To quote Moriarty: Did you miss me? lol

Many thanks to JAL who read this over months ago (when all it needed was a proper ending) and MLC who read it over then as well as today.

Ten years later

The television droned on in the background, ignored by Sherlock. His head rested on John's lap while the doctor's fingers carded through dark curls. A few months earlier, John's luck in Afghanistan had run out when a bullet found his left shoulder. He had woken up in a hospital, confused to find Sherlock dozing, his head resting on the bed beside John's hand. The man was a constant presence from that moment on.

When John was given the news of early retirement, Sherlock held his love as he cried for what could no longer be. His company and tales of recent cases helped John as he worked through physical therapy and transitioned to civilian life sooner than expected. It was by chance that Sherlock had met Mrs. Hudson once more and the news she now owned property and was looking for tenants, meant a different home as they started a new chapter in their lives.

Not wanting to give up his career completely, John did locum work for a surgery when he wasn't solving crimes with Sherlock. Just a few days before, they'd solved yet another case for D.I. Lestrade. The cabbie terrorizing London was now lying in a morgue, thanks to John. He had arrived just in time, even if in the wrong building, to save Sherlock from his own arrogance.

"I chose the right pill, John! I would have been fine!"

"You can't know for sure! You've even admitted to guessing sometimes!"

A preoccupied Anthea had given them a lift home, sitting between the two men who were determined to silently stare out of their respective windows. It wasn't until they were back home that they talked, the conversation ending with Sherlock promising to be more careful.

Sherlock was startled out of sleep when the television turned off. He felt the words, "Time for bed," whispered against his left temple. John chuckled as Sherlock shook his head and tried to bury himself against the doctor's stomach.

He gave his love a nudge and said, "Go on. I'm going to put the dishes in the sink, turn off the lights, and then I'll be right behind."

Giving a dramatic groan, Sherlock stood from the sofa and moved towards their bedroom. Once he was out of sight, John took a breath to steady the nerves he now felt, did his few chores and headed down the hallway. He stopped in the bedroom doorway and watched.

Still fully dressed, Sherlock sat on his side of the bed, fingers running over the apple John had left a few hours before. It was his favorite and had been polished to a shine but the thing that captivated Sherlock was the ribbon tied around the stem. Or rather, the white gold rings held in place by a bow. When Sherlock touched the tips of his thumbs to the rings, John decided to speak.

"Do you like them?"

Startled, Sherlock turned.

"I did the bow at least a dozen times before I was happy with it. But I bet you know that already."

Apple still clasped in his hands, Sherlock smiled. "Yes."

John grinned. "I want to grow old with you in a cottage somewhere after we retire so you can keep bees as you've always wanted. But you know that too, don't you?"

"I'd hoped."

John walked across the room, sat next to his genius, put his hands over longer ones and said, "Don't you remember what I wrote in the letter I left you years ago? I said I wanted to be with you always."

Sherlock nodded, the lump in his throat too large to respond otherwise.

"Well, that hasn't changed. In fact, ten years later, I'm more determined to keep you and you know how stubborn I can be."

Both men chuckled.

John untied the bow, removed the ribbon and rings from the stem and re-tied it before setting them to the side. Smirk on his face, John took the apple from Sherlock's hands and bit into it.

After swallowing, he lifted it up so Sherlock could take a bite, "Definitely a sweet one."

Using a newly freed hand, Sherlock knocked the apple away before taking hold of John's face. Kissing lets him taste the apple John had eaten moments before but it's mixed with a flavor that is all John and Sherlock thinks it might be the most perfect thing ever. Finally, needing to breathe, he pulls away.

John is taking a deep breath too and then chuckling.

"So was I right, husband-to-be?"

Heart pounding at the realization that he is really going to be John Watson's spouse; Sherlock dives in for another taste.

"Absolutely."