Sherlock always woke at precisely 7am and that Sunday was no exception.

As his eyes focused to the bright morning light he realised he wasn't in his bed. He was on the roof of the Brownstone, where he had been the night before with Watson, watching the last of Euglasia Watsonia bees hatch until they both fell asleep, snuggled in rugs under the night sky.

He twisted his head, expecting Joan to have gone back to bed downstairs, but found her lying beside him, curled into a ball with her hair fanned out on the ground around her head.

The morning sunlight illuminated her face, making her skin glow and her hair shine. Sherlock watched her breathe in and out.

There was so much he wanted to tell her. How much she meant to him. How he loved everything about her; from the way she sighed to her dazzling intelligence.

"Watson?" Sherlock whispered, tapping her on the shoulder.

Joan groaned as she awoke from her deep sleep, sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"What is it Sherlock?"

She looked around and realised where they were, then burst out laughing.

"I can't believe I fell asleep with you on the rooftop!" She shook her head, grinning. "Come on, let's go downstairs, I'm gonna make you some of my award winning pancakes."

Sherlock smiled, but his eyes looked empty.

"What's wrong?" Watson said worriedly, reaching out and rubbing his arm. "You look upset."

"Nothing," said Sherlock, turning away. "It's just.. I never know how to tell you...how...

"How what?"

"How much you mean to me," said Sherlock, turning towards Joan, his grey eyes fixed on hers.

Joan stared back at Sherlock, trying to hide the sudden wave of emotion that had just hit her.

"Just tell me," she whispered.

"A lot. You mean a lot to me Watson." he said, eyes wide.

"When I am around you, I feel amazing, ready to do anything. You are like my own personal sun, giving me light. When I don't see you for long periods of time I feel as if all the energy has been sucked out of me, I miss you so terribly. Watson... Joan...you are just simply fantastic, in every way."

She gazed back at him, unsure of her feelings. Finally she spoke.

"I feel the same way."

Those 5 words were more than Sherlock had ever hoped for.

"I need you Watson, I need to know you will stay with me. If you ever left I don't think I could go on."

Joan couldn't speak.

She leant forwards and kissed him softly.

Sherlock's stubble scratched her face but Joan didn't care. She had wanted to kiss his soft pink lips from the first time they had met.

Sherlock kissed her back, moving his hands to her slim waist. He wanted her so bad his whole body ached.

Suddenly Joan pulled away.

"I think we should go to my room. The roof isn't private enough for what I want to do to you Sherlock. What I've wanted to do to you since the day we met."