Chapter 31

"Sherlock, I'm coming home," John said immediately when he heard Sherlock pick up his phone. He sounded tired. The ambulance had left about ten minutes ago, and now there was a lot of fuss going on inside the shop, with the police investigating what had happened. John had gone just outside the shop door, needing some air.

"John," Sherlock's voice was almost shaking with relief. "What happened? Your message just said 'trouble' and I didn't know if I should call you or...?"

"I'm fine," John said quickly. "Fitzroy, on the other hand..." He sighed. "He's in hospital. Things went wrong, but we have the books. He was going on about finding the truth, but he needed to study both books..." John knew he wasn't talking very coherently, but he felt too exhausted. He just wanted to be home, hugging Sherlock.

"Good work, John," Sherlock said. "Come home as fast as you can." He wanted to add 'with the books', but was pretty sure that that was not what John wanted to hear right now. And surely he'd bring them anyway.

"I will," John nodded. He didn't really want to put his phone away, but ended the call anyway, then turned around to Ian, who had followed him out. "Do you think they need much more time now?" he asked, looking into the shop.

Ian shook his head. "No, they are wrapping things up."

"They'll want to know about how Fitzroy got wounded," John sighed. He rubbed his hands over his face. "I wish I was home."

"I already told them everything," Ian answered. "Well, almost everything. I might have sort of given them the impression that I came with you through the shop." He blushed. "I told them that you were very affected by what happened, and I think they'll be satisfied, at least for now, if you just confirm my statement."

Half an hour later, they could finally get in the car. It was dark and John felt horrid. He was quiet for a long time. "I haven't thanked you yet," he said eventually to Ian. "You saved both our lives when he attacked us. You've really done well."

"Thank you," Ian said, blushing. "I just acted on instinct I suppose. I didn't really have time to think, when I saw the knife."

John nodded. "Thank you. You're stronger than you look, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Not really that strong," Ian said with a chuckle. "I'm just fast. I used to play rugby, so I know how to bring a man down, using his own momentum against him."

"Really?" John smiled. "I have also played rugby, long ago though. It turns out to be useful knowledge, anyway."

"Very," Ian smiled. "Though I never would have expected it to come in handy quite like that."

"I've often found that fighting skills are good to have when you're chasing a criminal," John said with a smile.

"Yes. Sherlock must be glad to have a friend like you. A man in his profession can never have enough people watching his back I suppose."

John smiled. "Yeah. And even then he manages to get himself hurt."

"Yes, so I could see." Ian was silent for a moment, then added: "It felt great in a way. Taking him down like that. Twice. I mean, it was horrible about the knife, but that was not your fault or mine. He shouldn't have charged you like that." He hesitated. "Does it always feel like that? Do you feel a rush when you're bringing down a criminal?"

John sighed. "It's quite a rush, yeah, feeling the adrenalin of being in danger. But I wouldn't really say it was great. Not this time, at least." And he felt much, much better when Sherlock was on his side.

"Maybe ... " Ian hesitated again. "Maybe sometime, if you need an extra back up, I could go with you on a case. You know, help out. Look out for Sherlock when he's working... I would really like to see him work."

"Oh." John was a little surprised, even though perhaps he should have seen this coming. "That's really nice of you, but you know. Sherlock isn't the easiest person to work with. I'm not sure he would be okay with someone else coming with us, unless there was a good reason."

"But we had such great talks on the phone. I'm sure he would trust me. I could be really useful, you know."

John sighed. "Ian... I know Sherlock can be charming, but he's not always like he is the first time you meet him. I'm sure you would be useful, but Sherlock wouldn't always see it like that."

"Well, maybe if he got a chance to know me better..."

John looked at him for a few seconds. "Ian, can I ask you a personal question?"

Ian bit his lip, as if he knew what was coming. He nodded once.

"Are you falling in love with Sherlock?"

Ian looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I... I don't know," he said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "I've only met him once, but... But I really like him."

John bit his lip. Ian would obviously be hurt if he just told him the truth, but on the other hand, it would also hurt him if he let him try to get closer to Sherlock - and he's mine. He shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Ian, I have to tell you that... Sherlock isn't single. He's in a relationship. Quite a stable one. I think it's better to tell you..."

Ian didn't respond at first. Then he nodded slightly. Keeping his face turned away he muttered: "Yes. Thanks for telling me."

"I'm sorry. Of course you're always welcome to come over for a cup of tea," John said awkwardly.

Ian huffed. "Yes, that would be lovely," he said, a definite note of sarcasm in his voice. "Because I'd really love the chance to run into that special someone."

John didn't react and looked at his knees. The rest of their ride passed in uncomfortable silence. John really wished he would be home soon. When they were about ten minutes from Baker Street, he texted to Sherlock that he was almost there.

As soon as Sherlock saw the text from John, he grabbed his jacket and rushed down the stairs. As he stood waiting by the curb, he could hardly keep still with anticipation.

"Thank you for the lift," John said to Ian. "And for wanting to send the books to Sherlock as soon as the police lets them go."

"It's me and uncle who owe you thanks," Ian said, sounding very formal. "You both did an amazing job."

"You're welcome. I think Sherlock is very grateful to both of you for giving him an interesting case. Do you want to come in, or would you rather go straight home?"

Ian frowned. "I think I better get back to uncle," he said, sounding very defeated.

"Alright. Have a good journey," John said. He could see Sherlock standing on the pavement and his impatience to get out of the car was growing. "Goodbye."

As Sherlock saw the car approaching, his heart jumped into his throat. He knew it had only been a few days, but he had never thought it was possible to miss someone that much.

John got out and took his bag, then quickly walked the few meters to the porch of 221B. "Hello," he smiled at Sherlock.

Sherlock grabbed John by the shoulders and without a word of greeting pulled him close, kissing him with almost desperate passion.

Behind John, Ian reached over and closed the door silently, before telling the driver to take him back home as fast as possible.

John cupped Sherlock's face and kissed him back, even though he felt guilty, knowing that Ian could see them. Part of him wanted to stop Sherlock and tell him to go inside, but he just couldn't, and the car was long gone before he finally pulled away to breathe.

"Don't ever leave me like that again," Sherlock said, gasping for air, his eyes darting over John's face and body, taking in every single detail hungrily.

John let his hand wander down his neck and gave him a weak, tired smile. "I'm not planning to. Come on, let's go in."

Sherlock smiled and took his hand, leading him through the door and up the stairs.