Six: What Else Would She Be?
Lestrade welcomed Sherlock into the building, but he frowned when he saw Aveen on John's hip. John gave him a glare that said she comes in, or he leaves, and Sherlock wouldn't work with Lestrade if John wasn't there as well.
Gregory sighed as they stood over the man who died, but Sherlock couldn't see any signs of poison. And then there it was, that smell, it said that something inhuman was here; he didn't know how, it just did. He looked closer, and there were two marks. They had healed to be only little white marks on his neck, but apparently he was still alive at that point.
So what killed him if not the blood loss, then? That was when Sherlock remembered something he had read about some humans not being able to hold the change within them and they die instead of turn. Poor bastard, then. It sounds painful.
"Well, it was definitely poison, but not one you'll recognize," Sherlock said to Lestrade as he stood. He jerked his head in a direction so John would come over here and he could talk to him. Technically it was a type of poison.
"What was it, then?" Aveen stayed over there, where she was fascinated by how pale this man had become. Lestrade was intrigued that she was interested and she ignored him as she circled the body, as Sherlock does.
"He was bitten, and the change killed him. It happens, but how do we explain that to Lestrade, and," he mentioned another subject of interest, "Why are there all of the sudden Vampire attacks now? Why not before? Either that, or why are they getting so sloppy?" he questioned mostly himself, but John was listening as well.
John had no idea, either. Then there was that crazy idea in the back of his head, that said Mary was the one to do this, but why? "She wasn't, by the way. Mary is innocent," Sherlock said, knowing John would question her involvement.
Sherlock went back to the body, studying things around him as well as the man again. Ah, so that's why he died so fast. There were two, one woman and one man. A couple, new? Possibly. He didn't say anything else as John hoisted Aveen to his waist again as she simply stared with a smile on her face.
She truly was a strange child. What was she seeing in this murder? Whatever it was, she wanted to say, but she didn't. Sherlock wondered why she was keeping her discoveries to herself. Sherlock pulled some things out of his pocket and gathered DNA, for testing, as Lestrade shook his head in disbelief that Sherlock just carried those things around. John wasn't surprised in the least.
But this was Sherlock, and he shoved anything he might need in his pockets. Usually it would be his jacket, but it was too hot for that now, so it was his trousers that he pulled the objects of science from. John smirked as Aveen gasped in excitement at what Sherlock was doing.
She wanted to know and he explained it to her as they left, John was also listening to Sherlock's voice and his excitement in it. That really wasn't decent, to be so excited while some poor bloke was lying dead on the floor of an abandoned house.
Well, abandoned as in, people didn't live there officially, but you could tell where the homeless sometimes stayed. No one said anything about it, though. No one really cared if the homeless took refuge in a house, it didn't matter anymore.
John hailed a cab as Aveen slid in first, and John followed while Sherlock was last. Sherlock took John's hand in his own and Aveen smiled, processing all the information she had taken in about the murdered man. She wondered what had killed him, and from the hushed voices of Sherlock and John, she was guessing it was a Vampire that did it.
Oh yes, she knew about the Vampires. It was why she left her mother in the first place. Aveen had a few secrets of her own, but they would be revealed later as she focused on the relationship between her… fathers? Yes, she now considered them so.
She hadn't even known it was possible for another boy to love a boy like that, but it was evident from the way they looked at each other and the way they acted around one another that they didn't care if it was impossible, they loved each other and that would never change.
Sherlock had taken them to the lab where his eyes lit up when he saw Molly. Of course, he looked bored as he was always, but John saw that twinkle in his eyes that said he loved having Molly close and working with him again.
John wasn't jealous, because he knew Sherlock loved him. But he felt sorry for Molly. It was evident that she loved and really did work well with Sherlock, and John knew that if he wasn't here, she would have won his love at some point.
But John had ruined that chance, and he hated it. But if he didn't love Sherlock, then half of him would walk away, and all that would be left would be the part that lived alone and regretted every day that he wasn't dead.
As a matter of fact, before Sherlock had come into his life, that was what it was like, and then Sherlock Fell and it returned to that feeling, but he had Mary and she pieced together what she could find of the broken man presented to her.
But then again, Sherlock returned and that other half that Mary couldn't give was restored and John hasn't loved anyone else like this. Not even Mary could please that part of him. He hated thinking that she wasn't enough, but she wasn't.
Aveen sat there as her own thoughts were everywhere. If this was a Vampire, then why have the attacks started now? Why are they getting sloppy all of a sudden? Are they trying to… oh no, no that really isn't good. But she had to keep her mouth shut, because they'd never believe her even if what she told them would come back to bite them in the ass, possibly literally.
So she held her tongue as Sherlock was happy to have Molly working with him again, and John was regretting many things. But he was overall happy that Sherlock was happy and working on cases as always.
Well, not as always, exactly. They had Aveen now, who Molly adored when they first met. She had commented on her being so cute with her button nose and the fact that the boys loved her, too. Sherlock pulled off his gloves as he 'finished' deducing what 'poison' this was. John could tell he simply missed Molly.
Sherlock hadn't told Molly the result, because of course he already knew and she wouldn't believe him even if he told her. But Molly just praised Aveen for how amazing she was. Aveen was showing off as well, showing her knowledge and her strength with hanging off of John's arm as he picked her up by her fisted hand.
John just laughed when she used him as a pull up bar and she giggled when Molly tickled her. Molly was good with kids, as well as John and Sherlock only got along with her because she wasn't like any other child he'd ever met before. She seemed so different, yet so normal.
Sherlock didn't question, knowing there were weirder children out there. But he still wondered why she was interested in things kids usually don't even bother with. They all have the attention span of a goldfish.
Molly said goodbye to Sherlock and John with hugs and she planted a huge kiss on Aveen's forehead, saying she'd love to have her help with some experiments if Sherlock and John would allow her sometime. She jumped up and down with excitement and John said he'd think about it.
But when they left, and the twilight was setting in, there was a black car parked out front of the building. Sherlock rolled his eyes as Mycroft was leaning on it, "Sherlock," he greeted, "I need to speak to you," he explained.
John nodded as he took Aveen a few feet down the sidewalk and sat on the curb with her in his lap and they watched the cars go by as John waited for Mycroft to unhand his lover.
"Dearest brother," he twirled his umbrella, "For what happened two days ago, I am truly sorry," he admitted.
"Oh? And what happened that you would be sorry for?" Sherlock spat. He knew Mycroft was just informing him that he knew.
"I'm sorry that you're not exactly yourself anymore. And I'd like to warn you of your actions. John could be hurt and Aveen wouldn't like it much if her father died, now would she?" he asked.
"What exactly do you think I'd do?" Sherlock snapped and Mycroft simply raised one eyebrow at him.
"It's what you won't do that makes me worry," he stated, the umbrella stilling and Anthea peaking out of the window.
"Sir? We have to go," she said politely. Mycroft nodded as the door was opened and he slid in beside Anthea. She was typing on her phone as they drove off and Sherlock was stalking back to John and Aveen.
"What was that about?" John asked.
"He knows," Sherlock tapped his neck where there were barely visible scars from the other day, and John nodded. Now Aveen officially knew Sherlock was one of them. But she didn't hate him, she simply pushed back the fact that he was what she despised and loved him for being Sherlock.
John stood as Sherlock hailed a cab and John picked up Aveen from the curb as on parked in front of them. Sherlock recited their address as Aveen leaned into John and Sherlock simply sat up straight and said nothing, thinking.
He knew his brother would know, but he was wishing he would somehow not find out, because that was one person he didn't want to have teasing him about it. His brother teased him about everything. He may not seem that childish, oh but he was. Sherlock wasn't far behind, though.
When Sherlock first met John, Mycroft teased him about a 'happy announcement', which could happen, but at that point in time, no! He just needs to keep his mouth shut, always. Not sometimes, always. Sherlock sighed as he relaxed into himself.
John released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when Sherlock finally relaxed in his seat and wasn't scaring him by staring straight ahead like that. But just as John was about to ask a question, they stopped and he paid as they stepped out.
Aveen grinned when she knew John and Sherlock couldn't see her face. She knew what Sherlock was, and she knew that she should hate him, like her mother had hated his kind, but how could she hate him? She was almost a complete replica of him.
Even some of her looks were the same as his. She quit grinning like that when John came up behind her and patted her on the head as he opened the door to their flat. Sherlock had seen the mood about Aveen change lately and he wondered what was going on that she was a little quieter now.
Maybe she was so different because she isn't really just a normal kid? No, that doesn't make sense. Sherlock would have noticed the blood if she was a Vampire, so what then? Were there other creatures out there that were of legend that are actually real? Don't be absurd, Vampires can't be the only ones.
Sherlock decided he would have to visit Mary again, and soon. Maybe he'd bring John, and leave Aveen to Mrs. Hudson. He knew it was a little selfish, but Aveen wasn't that much trouble, and Mrs. Hudson already took care of Sherlock as if he were her own. And if she can take care of Sherlock, she can handle Aveen.
Sherlock asked, "John?" as he plopped in his chair, toeing off his shoes and socks. John hummed in response as he did the same, "Can I ask you something?" he wasn't sure.
Aveen left, bored. Sherlock eyed her movements and there was definitely something there that Sherlock hadn't taken the time to notice before. But he looked back to John as he was told, "Anything," assuring him to ask.
"Can we visit Mary? Sometime soon? Maybe tomorrow, actually? I have questions," he explained.
John's eyes almost bulged, then he narrowed them, "Questions?" he asked suspiciously.
"About my kind and if there are other species that were believed to only be legend yet aren't," he made sure to keep Aveen from hearing.
"Oh, that-," he was about to agree, "but Sherlock, Aveen," he pointed out.
"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock countered. John sighed, reluctantly nodding a yes. Sherlock smiled a small smile that made John return it as Aveen trudged back down the stairs, but before she could reach the kitchen, John snatched her in his arms, and tickled her.
She giggled, "S-Stop!" and John chuckled as she squirmed and he let go. She continued her trek to the kitchen, getting a glass of milk. Definitely peculiar. Sherlock stood, leaning in to where he could study her movements once again. What was he missing?
There was something that he couldn't quite see, and he hated it. John didn't know why he was staring at Aveen, "Sherlock?" he asked, curious.
He sat beside John as he observed her putting away the milk. As she chugged, "Can't you see how different she is to other children?" he asked.
"Sherlock, what are you saying? She's not a freak," he defended her instantly.
"No, but she's definitely not normal," Sherlock said as she slipped the glass in the sink and walked to where John and Sherlock were staring at her. She shot them a questioning glance.
"Is something wrong?" she asked. Sherlock could see it now, but he couldn't name it. What was this? What was this something?
Sherlock shook his head, deciding he would figure it out later. John looked at Sherlock and his eyes wandered to Aveen where he tried to see what was so different. He couldn't, she was a cute kid, though. John placed his hands to his knees as he asked, "Telly? I need to make dinner," he handed the remote to Aveen.
She nodded as Sherlock decided to give up on waiting, and he studied her as she watched telly. Eventually she glanced at him, and gave him a grin. She was almost saying, 'I know something you don't know,' and she was enjoying it.
Sherlock started a small conversation with her, making sure the sizzle of what John was cooking blocked them out, "What are you hiding little one?" he asked, using a term of endearment in hopes that she would spill.
She smirked, "Wouldn't you like to know?" and she went back to the television. You little brat. But John called that he was done and they should get to the table. "What about daddy?" Aveen asked John when there were only two plates.
"He doesn't eat much," he flattened his lips as they all sat, Sherlock still wanted to be there with John. He always wanted to be there. She gave a 'suspicious' look to Sherlock, but the glint in her eye said she knew. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her, knowing John was too distracted with his food to notice.
She busied herself as well, finishing everything, down to the last bit of syrup. "Best breakfast for dinner ever," she said as she kissed John on the cheek and skipped to her room to grab night clothes and a towel to get a shower.
John finished with Sherlock watching him, as always, and he slipped the dished from the table in the sink. He planned on doing them later, they were stacking up; even with Sherlock not eating. Sherlock noticed and scowled at them for giving him less time with John, but they walked back to the living room where they left the telly on.
John drug Sherlock to the couch and they cuddled until Aveen came out, dripping wet. John took her in his lap and she smiled as the brush dug into her hair, pulling out knots she knew she had. But she didn't even flinch, what was with that?
Sherlock kept staring hard at her, trying to lift the veil from his darkened eyes, but he couldn't quite get it over his head and see her properly. He knew there was something he wasn't seeing, but how could he see it if he didn't know what to look for?
When she left to go to bed, finally, "Sherlock," John started, "you should stop staring. I think she's a little creeped out by now," he chuckled.
Sherlock kept staring until she reached the stairs to her room, then looked to John, "She isn't," he said simply, wanting to add the fact that she's playing a game with him until he figures out just what she is, if not a human child.
Or maybe she is a child, but she's still definitely not human, not completely at least. Maybe she's something to do with magic? She can't be anything that has to eat or drink differently, because Sherlock would have noticed. Sherlock didn't panic that she would try to hurt anyone, if that was her goal, they were wide open. But what else is she trying to accomplish?
Judging from her knowledge about things, she may be seven years of age to her species, but to humans, she has to be at least eleven years of age. Her strength and will power showed that, as well as her intelligence. So then what species is so advanced that they have humans beat by at least three or four years?
Ugh! This is so confusing! Plus, there was the fact that Sherlock had little knowledge of supernatural creatures and only knew the very few that his mum would read to him about at night. He sat beside John about to go into deep into his mind palace again, then John's sigh and him leaving is what brought him back.
"John?" this stops John. He didn't expect Sherlock to ask for him. But he spins around slowly, and he hums, staring into Sherlock's eyes, his brows furrowing. "Where exactly do you think you're going?" he purred, standing up.
That voice made John's hair stand on end, it was deep and seductive and… sexy as hell! He recovered, but only to have Sherlock stand and pull him onto the couch with him again. Sherlock put John in his lap, and kissed his neck, "Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked.
"Thinking, shut up and let me work," he explained. This wasn't helping him think about Aveen, though. It made him focus on John, just the trembling soldier in his arms, trembling from his kisses and he grinned into each one.
John felt Sherlock's teeth scrape over his skin and he whimpered, "Stop it, you'll wake Aveen," he playfully slapped Sherlock's thigh under him. Sherlock stopped, but leaned back into the couch, pulling John with him and they laid into the cushions.
John leaned back into Sherlock and hummed in contentment. He really wasn't up for anything sexual, yet. They still had Aveen to worry about. He was also still a little worn out from the day. Sherlock turning worried him, and what's more, it stressed him out to think his lover was going through something without him.
Sherlock's arms came around John's torso and he tucked them under John's as their fingers from both hands linked together. "Have you ever noticed how small your hands are compared to mine?" Sherlock teased and nuzzled into John's neck.
"Thanks," he said sarcastically, "I do like your hands, though. Little pleasure makers, they are," his voice was deep and Sherlock loved that comment.
He squeezed John's hands in his own, "I know," he rumbled, "Yours aren't so bad themselves. Plus, they're so adorable," he kissed John's cheek and John smirked.
John turned around and faced his lover under him, "I love you," he said, not knowing what else to say. Sherlock's breath hitched at these three little words.
He loved hearing them from John, "I love you, too," he smiled, making eye contact with John's lovely shade of blue. John noticed that Sherlock had actually been a little surprised that John just randomly spoke those words, and he smiled at the fact that he meant it.
John's nose touched Sherlock's, but he couldn't resist when he tilted his head and Sherlock's lips rushed to meet John's. This kiss was slow, passionate, loving and never meant to be full of lust, and it wasn't. The sound of the disconnection left John pleased, he loved the feeling of Sherlock on him, or under him, or even feeling him at a distance.
John had always loved to touch someone he loved. It was strange, but he loved the way that person felt under his fingers. And that was when he realized he loved that with Mary, but it was almost nothing compared to what it felt like with Sherlock. He instantly felt guilty for thinking such a thing, but Sherlock saw this and distracted him with more kisses.
Small and furtive, just little soft pecks that brought John's chest closer to get more as Sherlock relaxed and John laid on top of him, listening to that abnormal, yet complete heartbeat. It beat slow, steady and every two seconds, (John had to time it) Sherlock's heart would assure him it was still beating. It was still loving him, and Sherlock was still alive and well.
It also reminded him that they needed sleep, because John, at least, was drowsy. He pulled back and put a quick peck to Sherlock's cheek, then proceeded to pull himself and Sherlock off of the couch. "Come on, love," that term of endearment made Sherlock smile as John linked their fingers and drug him back to their room.
Hmmmm, they both loved the sound of that: their room. Even if Aveen hadn't moved in, John would probably have moved into Sherlock's room anyway. He swore he'd never sleep without Sherlock ever again. He probably couldn't anyway.
Sherlock closed the door as John stripped down and changed, slipping in after he was done. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed. He didn't fall asleep, but he heard Sherlock repeat his actions, and sighed with a hum as Sherlock slid in after him, understanding that they weren't doing anything. Not tonight at least.
Sherlock's arms fell lovingly around John's shoulders and their legs tangled together loosely as John felt Sherlock relax once again. He exhaled deeply, showing he was content. John cuddled into the arm under his cheek and fell asleep, whispering, "I love you," as his last words to Sherlock.
Sherlock cuddled into his neck, "I love you, too," and he fell asleep as well.
"Sherlock," John nudged him. "Sherlock, come on, you can't sleep all day," he put kisses to Sherlock's face as Sherlock didn't want to wake up. He was dreaming this time, and it was a good dream. A very, very, good dream.
He rolled over, completely awake, but wanting to tease John now, he mumbled something that he knew sounded like, "Not finished yet, mmmm," he snuggled into the pillow.
John wrapped himself around Sherlock, "Yes, you are. Now get up, or I will make you," John teased as his fingers made shapes on Sherlock's stomach, where he had slid his hand up Sherlock's shirt.
Sherlock didn't say anything, he just rolled over and straddled John's hips in between his thighs, and his lips were on John's before the blond could do anything to stop him. Sherlock's hands went up John's shirt, feeling his perfect skin until Sherlock was content and he pulled back, sitting in John's lap.
"I'm awake," he smiled.
John shook his head, "Yeah, I can see that. So, when do you plan to visit Mary?" he finally asked, glancing at the time. Ugh, no wonder he was so tired, he had an hour this time.
"After you get home from work, you still have to go, you know," he poked John's stomach.
John sighed, "I know. Shut up," he pulled Sherlock down by his stupid red robe and planted a kiss that Sherlock took and made grow into a deeper one. John moaned and Sherlock mirrored it, their tongues tangling together.
"You do have tomorrow off, though, and then on Tuesday, Aveen has to go to school again. Next week is going to be lonely," Sherlock complained.
"Don't worry, love. I won't be gone all day, and neither will Aveen. Besides, Lestrade can give you cases," he suggested.
"Those aren't the same without you there," he pouted.
"I'm not quitting my job because you can't get a grip on yourself. Just," he pecked Sherlock's lips with his own, "don't ruin anything," he said as he tried to get up.
But Sherlock had his wrists pinned to the bed before John knew any better of it, "You do still have an hour," he teased John's neck with whispers of kisses.
"Then why don't you join me in the shower?" he suggested. He finally got up and Sherlock followed to the bathroom where they stripped what was left as John turned on the water. He pulled Sherlock in after himself and shoved him under the spray, soaking his hair.
Once Sherlock's curls were thoroughly soaked, he was confused as John grabbed his leg, pulling it up to his hip. He spun Sherlock under himself, "Kiss me, detective," Sherlock's eyes widened and he suddenly smiled as his arms went around John's neck and he pressed his lips to the soldier's.
John loved this kiss, they were completely naked, and they were getting wet, and somehow all of this made it that much better. They pulled away for breath and stood when Sherlock squirted shampoo in John's hair, massaging his scalp afterwards, rubbing it in.
John moaned and leaned back into Sherlock. He could feel himself getting aroused just from Sherlock's fingers on his skin. Sherlock pressed into John's backside and pushed him forward under the spray as it washed the soap from his hair.
John's lips were hungrily pressed to Sherlock as he slammed him to the wall, his hands scaling Sherlock's sides. Sherlock moaned when John took control, he loved it when the soldier came out. He grunted when John's lips went to his neck, nipping and biting, making marks.
Sherlock couldn't help the fangs that were poking at his bottom lip as he moved John and him to under the water again, John's back pressed to the wall under it. One of John's legs wrapped around Sherlock's hips, bringing him closer, and their groins rubbed against one another as their lips met again. Wet and hungry, sloppy and full of lust.
Sherlock tried to keep his fangs from hurting John as the kisses would get deeper, and then be simply kisses. And somehow, there was love in the tangled lust. It was a loving lust instead of a lust in love. There's a difference, and it's hard to explain, but right now, they were only focused on the hard part. (Hehe…)
Sherlock moaned and John's breath stopped as he hissed in pleasure at Sherlock's cock rubbing up against his own. But when he realized that Sherlock was taking control, he flipped their positions. Sherlock's chest pressed up against the wall and John's hand on his arse, "I don't think so," he teased.
Sherlock growled and it turned to a muffled moan when John's fingers played with his entrance, pushing in slightly and pulling back out. "Stop teasing," he groaned, slightly slurred from the fangs, and John chuckled as he slipped one finger in, scraping at the walls of Sherlock.
He pushed another in as he pushed into Sherlock's prostate. Sherlock cried out in pleasure as the sensation went all over, right down to his toes and he shivered. John pushed in again, making Sherlock hiss at him with how good that felt. He almost bit into his tongue.
John let out a breathy chuckle as he pressed his chest to Sherlock's back, "Tell me you want it," he rubbed himself against Sherlock, teasing ever more.
"I want it," Sherlock whimpered, still slurred.
"Tell me you need it," he rubbed again.
"I need it, now!" he demanded.
John's hand smacked over Sherlock's bum, "Sh, I do the demanding," he massaged at the mark he obviously would have left. "And I demand you love me," as he pushed in. Sherlock gasped at feeling himself around John.
"I l-love you, J-John," he stuttered and moaned, pushing back into John. John was such a fucking tease, because he barely moved his hips, sliding further in and further out each time. Eventually he was to the point where he almost slipped out and he pounded back in, expertly hitting Sherlock's prostate and he cried out again.
The electricity that sparkled over his body was too much to ignore. His hand drifted down to touch himself, but John smacked it away, repeating what he was doing, "I want you to cum with only me inside you. Can you do that?" John asked into Sherlock's ear.
Sherlock nodded whimpering in pleasure as John just continued his work and hit his prostate harder this time around. He was aching as John just kept the same pace, not changing anything. But Sherlock was getting closer to the edge, with every thrust, and it was amazing.
He didn't know it was possible to get off with just the feel of John inside him, but apparently it was. Because his vision was dead for a moment as he spilled over himself and onto the wall he was pressed to.
Hearing Sherlock's scream brought John to come with Sherlock, inside him, filling him with all he could give. Sherlock slumped to his knees as they gave out and he couldn't stand anymore. John knelt behind him, the water running over them as they panted. Sherlock's fangs luckily retracted as the feeling of need left.
"I never imagined, that that could be so good," John admitted.
Sherlock was glad the bloodlust was gone, "Tell me about it," he joked. John hugged him from behind, whispering those there words into Sherlock's ear. Sherlock leaned into him, loving those words as he repeated them to John. They were very satisfied as they stood again and washed the cum and sweat from one another.
"What did you do to him?" Aveen asked, watching Sherlock slightly, very slightly, almost unnoticeably limping around the kitchen, but it was fading from the healing his body was doing. Besides, it was only just ten minutes ago that they had done that.
"I made him feel good," John purred and Sherlock smiled wide, shivering at the memory. Aveen shook her head as she finished munching on her cereal and just didn't even want to wonder what that meant. She knew where babies came from, but she didn't know anything about… anything else.
She may be at a higher intellect, but she still didn't know about sex. She was sure she didn't want to, either. She tipped her bowl into the sink once she was finished and asked what they were doing today.
"Not much," Sherlock answered, sipping coffee, "I'm taking you back to the lab today, though. I have a few experiments to finish," he explained. Sherlock's limp was gone now as Aveen blew up in excitement, and he simply sat down in his chair.
"I get to see Molly?!" she asked. Sherlock smiled, nodding. John knew that if he had never come around, Sherlock and Molly would have done something by now. She and Sherlock clicked and they would have found each other in the dark.
But John had stepped in their way. He felt terribly guilty for what he had done, but he told himself to stop, because Sherlock would have told him it wasn't his guilt to feel. He couldn't help it though, Molly loved Sherlock so much, and Sherlock loves her, no matter what he says about denying it.
Sherlock saw that look on John's face, and knew he was thinking about Molly and him again, "John," he rubbed the back of his fingers on John's standing forearm. He looked to Sherlock, setting his cup down, "Stop thinking about it. Besides, you need to get to work," he was bored already with the thought that John wasn't going to be with him all day.
John sighed, "Right. Right, and we have that thing afterwards. Ugh, it's exhausting just thinking about it," he complained, but rose to his feet.
Aveen smiled as she went to grab her shoes and Sherlock followed John to the door, as always. He decided he would always follow John to the door. He liked kissing John goodbye. And kiss they did, even exchanging a quick tongue before John slipped out the door, as always.
Sherlock sighed as he found Aveen waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. She had her raven hair pulled back into a pony tail, done by John, and a barrette in her hair that was just a bunch of blue sparkles. Her blue eyes lit up as Sherlock opened the door, and they shuffled out.
John was still standing at the curb, almost pouting as Sherlock chuckled, "Having troubles?" he purred out from behind John as the soldier jumped.
"Jesus, Sherlock. Don't do that to me," he warned as Sherlock simply wrapped his arms around John's waist for a brief moment, then let go to call a cab. John hated that he could do it on the first try.
Sherlock recited his address first, knowing John would simply say his and not even move. When they stopped, Sherlock kissed his doctor a final time and Aveen and him unloaded in front of the familiar building. The cab drove off and he opened the doors, smiling brightly as he was getting to see Molly.
For some reason, everyone loves Molly, but she just can't see it. She wants Sherlock to love her romantically, but he can't. One, he doesn't feel that way about her, two, John… Sherlock loved how he could just say John's name as an explanation to some things he didn't feel like explaining.
Aveen beamed as Molly wrapped her arms around the child, swinging her round and round as they both giggled. Molly loved Aveen already, and vice versa. Aveen thought Molly was a beautiful woman, and wondered why Sherlock loved John and not her.
Aveen loved them both, though. So, she kinda had no room to judge. And she finally got to help with the experiments today! She was so happy…
I'm sorry, I had to make Aveen something. She couldn't just have been innocent. I hope you look forward to their meeting with Mary. Sherlock has questions... But anyway, reviews?