It was the pattern of the footsteps down the stairs that made Mrs. Hudson peer out her door. They sounded panicked, and there was only one set. She got to the landing just in time to see the hem of Sherlock's coat slipping out the front door as John dropped to the top step, looking heartbroken.
"Oh dear. What's happened?"
John ran his trembling hands through his hair.
"I... miscalculated. Sherlock. He's so frustrating. I thought... I got the wrong impression." John paused, realised he was rambling. "I just wish he'd behave like a normal person."
"Oh, John. Come down here, let me make you some tea."
"I kissed him, Mrs. H." He looked embarrassed, and stayed put on the staircase. "I thought he reciprocated, but he just looked at me like a startled animal and ran off."
"John Hamish Watson, you get down here. You need to trust your instincts. Sherlock's crazy about you, trust me. He's just new to this sort of thing, and doesn't know how to react. Just give him time, he'll come around."
John cocked his head, stood up, and shuffled down the stairs, allowing himself to be steered towards the sofa. He smiled slightly when Mrs. Hudson vanished and reappeared with two mugs of tea and some scones with jam. His favourite too - blackberry.