AN: Kathson here with another update for you lovely readers. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews – Enjoy!

Sherlock

Sherlock allows himself to relax at John's words. He can stay, then. Closing his eyes for a moment in relief, he takes a shuddering breath and nods slowly. "Thank you, John."

"You're still an idiot," comes John's reply and Sherlock smiles, a real smile, and opens his eyes again to look at his - again - flatmate.

John is visibly calmer, he notices, the tension in his shoulders and arms gone. Also, he doesn't have his cane with him and when he walks over to Sherlock, the detective notices the absence of his limp. This makes him smile even wider.

He's back where he belongs.

"You're not off the hook, though," John says, slipping into his chair again and folding his hands.

At Sherlock's questioning gaze, he adds "Tell me everything. I want to know everything." There's acertain hardness in those words, making it clear that John wants the truth, but it's accompanied by a soft, gentle look, that encourages the detective to open up and tell John everything there is to know.

So Sherlock does. He tells John about how he deduced Moriarty's plan to break him, to ruin him and how he came up with a solution. John looks a bit offended when Sherlock mentions Molly's part in this scheme, but he does not interrupt the detective, only nods and lets him carry on.

Sherlock tells John about the travelling, about tracking down and killing each and every member of Moriarty's web, about some very dangerous locations and close calls, about the knife he used, the gun he nicked, the fights, the victories and the one time he was almost killed himself.

John turns ghastly pale at this point and Sherlock pauses his story, wondering what he can do to assure John that it's alright, but John urges him to go on and Sherlock does so.

He tells John everything, some parts with vigor, some parts with pride, some parts with sadness. He tells John, in the most gentle way he can manage, about the constant feeling of being alone and lonely, the empty hotel rooms and the long nights with no one to talk to.

And then, at last, he tells John about the strength he got from thinking of his doctor, his flatmate, how thinking of John motivated him into pulling through, how knowing that John was safe and sound gave him the power to complete his quest and, most of all, how he came to realize that what he felt for John was more than friendship, more than companionship, more than anything he'd ever felt for any person.

John blinks at that last bit, as if he awakes from a trance, and Sherlock realizes that he has gotten up from his spot on the sofa and is now kneeling at John's side, suddenly very close to the doctor. Their noses are almost touching, they're breathing in the very same air and Sherlock catches that scent that he has come to love so much.

John clears his throat and Sherlock snaps out of his thoughts. The doctor is staring at him, chewing his lower lip, and Sherlock starts to back up, thinking he's getting John uncomfortable, but then John suddenly speaks. "Sherlock... this thing we have now... what is it?"

Sherlock freezes. This is not what he expected, but when he thinks about it, he finds himself at a loss for the answer. He knows that he would like this, whatever it it, to be, but as it is now, he is unsure of what John wants from him. So he licks his lips and asks "What do you want it to be, John?"

John

"What do you want it to be John?" The question threw John for a loop. He always assumed that if by some miracle he and Sherlock ever got to the point of deciding to progress their relationship, that Sherlock would be the one to make the final call.

He was the one who scorned sentiment and romance. The one who fled from emotions and who's MO was strictly logical. He was also the one with no experience, meaning he should set the pace. Not John, who's been in dozens of relationships.

But now Sherlock is asking him to make the final call. For all the times he'd placed his life in Sherlock's hands, Sherlock was now returning the favour by placing his heart in John's. At the thought John drew a deep, ragged breath because it's a dizzying, high-inducing realization.

And what can he do but smile at Sherlock? After all, the minute he turned around at the pub he'd decided to give this, them, a shot, so there wasn't need for much discussion.

Realizing that Sherlock is still awaiting his response with baited breath John leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to Sherlock's forehead.

"Sit back properly so I don't have to strain my neck down to see you and I'll tell you." He murmurs with a fond smile and Sherlock grins in return at his playful tone.

Sherlock back up, to sit cross-legged on the floor, hands folded into his trademark prayer position. John chews his lip for a moment as he tries to decide exactly how to explain what he wants them to be.

Finally he speaks. "You know how everyone assumed we're a couple?" he starts off and Sherlock gives a prompting nod. "Well, once, when I was arguing about it with Lestrade, explaining that I wasn't gay he cuffed me across the head."

John's halted by Sherlock raising an offended eyebrow at the DI's actions. John shakes his head to indicate it's not important and continues. "Well after a bit of swearing on my part, I asked him what it was for. He said, and I'm paraphrasing here, cause god knows I haven't got your memory, he said 'Because you're being a bloody idiot John. If your sexuality is the only thing standing between you and Sherlock then you best get over it. That man is your other half, whether you like it or not and I know that if I ever found someone like that, someone to love, wholly and completely, someone to love me, completely and wholly, then I wouldn't give a damn about their gender."

Sherlock looked surprised at the story of the DI's outburst, but didn't interrupt. John continued "He had a damn good point. But what got me is what people thought we had. They thought we were so perfect for each other, soul-mates, you could call it, that they just assumed our connection, our love, could bypass anything. Any barrier put between us, by others or ourselves, would just disintegrate."

John pauses, to draw a breath and gauge Sherlock's reaction to this. To his surprise Sherlock isn't protesting any of this. Not the use of the metaphor of soul-mates or the foolishly sentimental tone that John has taken. He isn't mocking John for believing in a love that can conquer all. He's simply watching quietly, waiting while the rest of his life hangs in the balance.

Taking heart from this John continues "What I'm trying to get at, through all this rambling is to say that what I want, is for us to be exactly what everyone assumed we were."

Sherlock lets out a sharp breath akin to relief and smiles "As do I." he murmurs. John breaks out suddenly into a giggle, and tries to smother it, but it catches and soon Sherlock is consumed by giggles as well.

"Th-this is - it's - well - ridiculous-really." John manages through breaths of laughter.

"Wh-what?" Sherlock asks, trying to calm himself, and failing every time he catches sight of John.

"J-just -" John clears his throat, forcing the laughter to subside and explains with a wry smile. "Just that I spent nearly three years of my life denying my affections for you, three years wishing I could reveal them to you and now..." he trails off.

Sherlock takes up the rest of the sentence "And you'll spend the next three convincing me this relationship stuff is worth it all." he quips playfully.

"How am I supposed to do that?" John asks, with a barking laugh.

Sherlock shrugs, with a sly smile and answers "I'm sure you'll think of something.