I'm not sure how many of you will notice but I have changed the chapter titles and put the story into parts. So the first part was John and Sherlock getting onto the same page. This is a kind of between piece that has very little actually happen plot wise. I will post the next chapter tomorrow and you might see why I have decided to break the story into parts.

And for those that were wondering Ch3 of Paved with Love takes place at the end of January, so we will get to it :)

Interlude: Sherlock's birthday

6th January

Congratulations on surviving another year MH

Sherlock sniffed and deleted the text, but raised wary eyes to his bedroom door where he could hear John and Ava puttering about as they both got ready for the day.

It would be just like Mycroft to tell John what today was.

There was no help for it though.

Ava was spooning porridge into her mouth when Sherlock left the sanctuary of his room. "I got golden syrup," she informed him proudly. "Look," she tilted the bowl to show him the swirls of sugary syrup before scooping up another spoonful that seemed to have barely any actual porridge on it.

"You'll be a joy for your teachers today, I'm sure," Sherlock accepted the tea that John passed him wordlessly.

Ava nodded, the sarcasm flying straight over her head. John shook his head, amused and ruffled Ava's hair as he went past, yawning as he went. His wound was almost healed and clearly causing him little difficulties now from the ease in which he stretched.

"Guess what?" Ava beamed up at him.

Sherlock eyed her up, suddenly alert, "I would rather not."

A slightly hurt look crossed Ava's little face and her shoulders drooped in disappointment. She jammed her spoon into the porridge without the usual attempt at trying to get as much sugar as possible.

She looked so crestfallen that the words spilled past his lips instantly, "What?"

And, as if he's said a magic word, she perked up again. "I'm going to Tommy Brown's house tonight. We're going to have chips."

"Tommy Brown? Sherlock asked.

"Her boyfriend," John teased as he sorted out his bag.

Ava's eye widened in shock and she whirled in her seat, sending porridge flying off her spoon, "Tommy Brown is NOT my boyfriend," she screeched with horror.

John's mouth pressed together as he tried not to laugh, "Are you sure?"

Ava turned appealing eyes up to Sherlock, "Tell him Tommy Brown isn't my boyfriend," she pleaded.

"Don't be mean John," Sherlock said, seeing her distressed look.

John's eyes widened and the amusement just grew, "Seriously?" he asked Sherlock.

Unimpressed, Sherlock rolled his eyes and took a sip of tea as he sat himself down opposite Ava who was scowling into her porridge.

There was no indication that John had anything planned. But that was the most irritating thing about his current communication with Mycroft who still remained one of the few people in the world who could spring a genuine surprise upon Sherlock.

The expression on Ava's face changed from sulking to sneakiness.

"Daddy," she said in far too sweet a voice, "Is Sherlock your boyfriend?"

John froze in shock. "I…"

Sherlock sat back in his chair, sipping at the tea and looking at John in polite enquiry. John darted his gaze between Ava and Sherlock, the thoughts running through the expressions on his face almost as quickly as they did his mind.

"Yes," John said suddenly, "I…yes."

Ava nodded to herself as if she'd suspected that all along. "Tommy Brown isn't my boyfriend." She added, "Sherlock's clever; Tommy ate a piece of the car park because someone told him it was black treacle."

"You're encouraging her to date that?" Sherlock asked John disparagingly.

"Ate the car park?" John asked looking unimpressed.

Ava nodded, "Some of it broke. Mrs Parker says it was the snow…" Ava didn't look convinced at the idea. "And Sean Tenner told him it was treacle and then laughed at him."

"Children are idiots," Sherlock muttered.

Ava nodded solemnly.

John tossed an envelope at him when he walked back into the flat after lunch.

Sherlock turned his head to study the envelope sitting next to him and turned back to the lap top. "Really?" he asked with some disapproval.

John dumped the bag on the table, "It's not a card," he said sounding defensive and slightly nervous.

"John-"

"Just open it," John muttered, "Or do that thing where you figure out what it is without opening it."

"These aren't the blood test results," Sherlock commented as he glanced at the envelope again.

"I suppose it's not even worth asking how the hell you knew about that?" A slight blush was creeping up John's neck from under his shirt.

"They were negative?" Sherlock asked, finishing up the paragraph he'd been reading about heavy metal poisoning, feeling vaguely more interested in their STI tests than this attempt at a present.

"Yes," John said slowly. "But…still. Open it."

Sherlock sighed and picked up the envelope.

"You can't tell what it is?" John asked curiously.

"It's a piece of paper with a present on it." Sherlock turned it over in his hands, then looked at John. "It's not a voucher or money, you know me too well to feel comfortable with giving that, although in truth it would probably make you less nervous. But you are nervous so…" Sherlock broke off, feeling slightly touched that John had made an effort.

"So?" John prompted.

Sherlock snapped his attention back to the envelope, "So it's not a traditional present, it's a risk." He studied John.

Suddenly interested he turned the envelope over. "You haven't spent money on this?"

"Just pride." John stayed where he was, "Although there was an unsubtle hint at a donation so maybe that counts."

Donation.

Museum?

"Evidence?" he asked.

John rolled his eyes, "Open the damned thing," he muttered.

"Evidence from a case…an unsolved case? It would be the only interesting type of evidence."

"It's not the Ripper or anything," John squirmed.

Sherlock waved a dismissive hand, "Of course not, far too obvious."

John let out an unsteady breath, "Of course," he said sarcastically, "And people might notice if that exhibit was missing a few items."

"A few?"

"Two," John conceded. "God knows why I bothered giving you the envelope." He added with a shake of his head. "The case notes and forensic reports, such as they were in the thirties."

Sherlock glanced up at John, feeling a sudden thrill of delight.

"The Wallace case?" he asked hopefully.

John suddenly smiled, clearly relieved. "Yes."

Sherlock pulled the envelope open.

"Sherlock it doesn't say anything-"

"Shush, I'm reading." He glanced at the inventory, soaking up the language used and enjoying the sight of the words in black and white.

"The collection is being moved and is being taken off display for a while." John shifted, "The deal is that you can rotate what you look at but you can only have two at a time. And if you accidently "lose it" I'll be flayed alive by your brother and the director of the collection."

Sherlock nodded, distracted. "It really would have been better to have the actual items rather than the reports first. You can be so easily swayed by opinion before seeing the facts."

"You're welcome," John said pointedly.

"Yes."

"Sherlock?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

Half an hour later Sherlock snapped his attention from simultaneously plotting the order he would review the Wallace case items and how to get a "business meeting" with Moriarty's "finance manager" Karen Yarrow, to the bag John had brought in with him.

Slowly he got up and with one finger opened up the plastic bag.

"You understand I can't be held responsible for this?" he said carefully. "You produced these things in entirely the wrong order."

"Did I?" John asked from where he was sat with a biography.

Sherlock made his way to the windows and snagged the curtains firmly shut, then locked both doors.

John's only response was to calmly flick the lamp on next to him as Sherlock shut out most of the light.

"Here," Sherlock breathed into his ear from behind the chair.

"I'm reading. You do what you like." John replied with the faintest challenging lilt to his voice.

"You won't win this game." Sherlock let his hand slide down John's front, undoing the buttons as he went.

John turned a page. "Mm," he said non-committedly, even as his pulse hammered away at his throat.

"Tell me what the book's about," he whispered as he nuzzled John's neck and tried to catch the thumping beat at his throat with his teeth.

John took a deep breath, "Well, it's a man…who um…I have absolutely no idea."

Sherlock grinned, "Dull is it?"

"I think it's your brother's idea of a joke." John whined. "Some army general whose life revolves around how much he can spend on horses and guns."

"John," Sherlock warned, "We discussed this."

"You asked." John let his head tilt to the side, allowing Sherlock better access.

Sherlock pulled away and walked around the chair, kneeling on front of John and placing the book to the side, "I can accidently spill corrosives on it if you like?"

John grinned, "and you claim to not be heroic," he muttered as Sherlock pulled him forward for a kiss.

There was a wonderful leisure to the kiss. It wasn't as if it were late at night and they were short for time. It was barely one in the afternoon and Sherlock had all day.

Which was perfect for what he had in mind.

John's breath hitched in surprise when the handcuffs clasped around his wrists, pushing them behind his back.

"These are terribly flimsy," Sherlock muttered as he removed John's belt. "If you intended on using them on me I fully suggest liberating ones used by the actual police."

"Of course you're an expert on handcuffs," John leaned back carefully, trying to find a comfortable position. "You aren't planning on keeping me in these all the way through are you?"

"It's my birthday," Sherlock replied snootily as he peeled John' jeans down his legs. "I can do what I want."

"You had better remember these birthday rules when it comes to mine." John panted.

Sherlock peered into the bag thoughtfully, "You were rather thorough" he said with some approval.

"I try to keep life interesting," John commented as he watched Sherlock's hand hover over the items in the bag, trying to decide what to select first.

Sherlock nodded, "Indeed. You are aware that Mrs Hudson is out for the day?"

"Mm, all-expense paid trip to Chartwell with her sister." John grinned.

"Very thorough," Sherlock approved. "I'll make you a deal, I'll let you out of these on one condition."

John looked at him questioningly, even as his eyes fluttered at Sherlock's gentle strokes.

Kneeling up Sherlock pressed his mouth to John's ear. "Scream for me."

Somehow they made it to the bed after. John was slick with sweat from Sherlock's earlier torment and Sherlock was still seeing stars from the sheer ecstasy of it all.

Or possibly from the lazy blowjob John was now giving him.

He did not whimper when John pulled away, and trailed his mouth back up to Sherlock's. There was a determined glint in John's eye as he smoothed both hands down Sherlock's arms and then laid siege to Sherlock's mouth.

His mind tumbled into sensation as they kissed and touched and then-

"John," he pulled back as much as he could as John slowly sunk onto him. "I-" He had no idea what he wanted to say. Instead he just watched his lovers face carefully, trying to gauge John's reaction and keeping utterly still to allow John the chance to adjust and set the pace.

"You really are lazy sometimes," John groaned as he started to rock.

In a move he had once had perfected, Sherlock sat and twisted them, enjoying John's surprised yelp even as he slipped out.

He needed to practice that more.

He pushed back in as John frowned and adjusted, unused to the position and movement he would need to make. Mindful of the almost healed injury Sherlock rearranged and pushed until he was at the perfect angle.

He needed to see John. Needed to watch the surprised pleasure and curious gasps. Needed to watch the eyes as they widened and closed with sensation. He had to watch and feel the adams apple bob and dip as John swallowed Sherlock's kisses along with his own gasps and murmurs of desire. It was a physical craving to watch the spread of heat as it pooled in John' cheeks and dampened his hair again. And after, to hear that wonderful firm mouth whisper broken promises of love as John tightened around him, was more than enough for Sherlock to crash after him.

Sherlock trailed a hand over the curve of John's arse as they lay side by side.

"You can go straight to hell with that," John murmured.

"You said three times," Sherlock pointed out,tracing a lazy pattern with his finger.

"Mm, well I'm feeling decidedly more impressed by her ability than by mine at the moment," John muttered.

Concerned Sherlock slipped down the bed.

"What are you-" John yelped and danced away from him. "Sherlock?"

"I'm checking." Sherlock scowled, "For damage."

"Oh for-Sherlock for once this year can we lie in bed and not have you complete a "damage check"? I'm fine. I'm a doctor, I know I'm fine."

"Don't be such an infant," Sherlock muttered, gripping John's hips, "And stop squirming."

He could hear John huff, "Well?"

"A little inflamed." Sherlock sat up, "We should have used more lube,"

Turning, John fixed him with a steely glare, "Have you seen the state of the living room?"

"I am not tidying this up," Sherlock announced as they paused at the doorway. "It's my birthday."

"I should have taken that bet with Mycroft." John stared at the sight in front of him. "He bet I couldn't even you make you admit there was anything of note about today." He let out a sigh, "Could have used the money to pay for a cleaner."

"I don't think this proves your point though," Sherlock added as he stepped over his shirt. "I'd be amazed if any lube actually made it onto you from the state of this."

"You were in charge of the bottle." John picked up the handcuffs carefully.

"I was distracted."

7th January

"You're sure you'll push the swing properly," Ava huffed as they closed the front door behind them.

"Yes," John said sounding slightly annoyed by the repeated question as he bent to slip her mittens on to her hands.

"How do you manage to fail to push a swing?" Sherlock asked pausing to let them get ready.

"By all means Sherlock, show us what an expert you are when we get there," John offered pulling Ava's hat onto her head. She looked so bundled up against the weather it would be a miracle if she managed to sit down on the swing.

Bored and wanting to get on with it so he could move onto Bethany Radcliffe after picking up a few choice items close to the park, Sherlock looked down the street.

"Wild afternoon yesterday?" Liam from next door asked as he fiddled with his keys.

John went red. Utterly and completely red and looked up at Sherlock in horror.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

New shirt, unremarkable unlike usual choices of clothes. Trying to be indistinct so he can get away with wearing the same shirt twice. Wedding ring dulled, love bites on his neck but very close together as if covering one up with the other. Tired, always holding onto his phone now, and slipping his hand in his pocket to make sure it's there.

"It's what happens when you only have one partner on the go." Sherlock snarled.

Liam paled and glanced at his front door.

"Discretion," Sherlock continued, "Would be most beneficial for you."

Ava frowned as the man practically threw himself inside the door.

"He's a married one," She informed Sherlock. "Mrs Hudson said."

"Too harsh?" he asked John as he stood.

"Not really," John grinned. "Park?"

See! Not much happened!

The Wallace case, for those interested is the first case in British Legal History where the conviction of the prime suspect was overturned. The case was never solved and there were quite a few oddities that have made it the subject of a few novels. It took place in liverpool in 1931 and, if you're interested then look up William Herbert Wallace who was the husband and prime suspect.

Next part: John and Sherlock start to work together to dismantle Moriarty's organisation while dealing with Mycroft's version of help, Lestrade's attempts to feed them linked cases and Ava...well, being Ava!

PS: Has anyone seen katrinDepp's spoof vid with Sherlock, and Moriarty having a strange obsession with Justn Bieber? I died of laughter this morning! Sigh I am sogoing to be using up my broadband allowance for the month before the end of the week again!