Chapter 3

Harry made her way back to Baker Street and was let in by Mrs Hudson, who had clearly just returned from her shopping trip. After a brief chat, she went upstairs to find Sherlock at the kitchen table looking into a microscope. She bit her lip; he didn't like to be disturbed when working but she honestly thought it would be for the best if they talked. It was clear to her that he too was experiencing certain feelings and probably had no idea how to process them.

"Are you going to just stand there or tell me what's on your mind?" Sherlock asked, glancing up at her. She smiled.

"Well, I don't want to disturb you..." He shook his head.

"It's no trouble. Just occupying myself." He peered at her. "There's something you wish to talk about, but you're hesitating because you're not sure if I want to co-operate."

"Well, yeah," she admitted, leaning against the door frame. "It's about my brother." Sherlock looked away and she tried not to smirk; was he really so obvious? "Sherlock...I've seen the way you've been looking at him."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said carefully. How could she when he barely understood it himself? Such feelings had no place in his mind, as far as he had always maintained. He remembered how Irene had let her feelings get the better of her.

"Yes, you do. You're different from the last time I saw you. Especially when talking to him. I see it in your eyes, Sherlock; the intense look you give him. It doesn't take a genius like yourself to figure it out."

"There is nothing to figure out," he replied. How could he possibly tell John how he felt? There was just no way for it to happen.

Harry moved into his personal space, which she knew would render him incapable of ignoring her. "Sherlock. Look at me..." When he did so, her expression softened. "I won't force you into admitting what we both know, but I will tell you this. It does no good to bottle up your feelings. Take it from someone who knows. I knew when I was quite young that I wasn't as interested in guys as my friends were. But until I met Clara I thought that I was just waiting for the right guy. Then I met her and it all made sense. You see?"

Sherlock looked at her. "Harry, I...I know nothing of what these feelings are. They...they rise up, unbidden, when I look at him. I can't control them and...it unnerves me. At night, I...I..."

She tried to keep a straight face; she had a feeling of what happened when he was asleep and dreaming of John. "Sherlock, this is a perfectly normal reaction. Lots of people unexpectedly fall in love with a friend and have no idea what to do about it. Especially if it's someone of the same sex. Welcome to human emotions," she told him.

"But...he maintains that he has no such interest," Sherlock argued, shaking his head. "People often assume we are a couple and he takes care to make them realise that we are not. The idea...it does not sit well with him."

You couldn't be more wrong, she thought wryly. "How do you know that things haven't changed in the last few years? He missed you so much and was so happy when you came back. That might indicate something."

Sherlock got up and folded his arms, looking around at the empty flat. "I hate it when he's not here. It's...lonely, without him telling me off for making a mess or blowing things up. Hearing him walk around..." He sighed and folded his arms defensively; these feelings confused him and he wasn't sure what to do. "Even...if...he reciprocated, there's no guarantee...I have no idea of how to maintain such a relationship. He would grow frustrated and leave." That was his biggest fear for telling John how he felt; losing his best friend.

Harry came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sherlock...I know that this is scary. But I also know that...if you do tell him, there's a chance you might actually be happy. If he is where you are...will you take care of him?"

"Of course I will," he replied immediately. "He does not need looking after, but...I will certainly be good to him, as they put it. He...means a lot to me."

"You love him?" she asked softly, and he slowly nodded.

"It's dangerous to have these feelings...if I lose him..."

She sighed; there was just no way to ease his mind about that one.

Their attention was drawn to the sound of the front door closing, followed by footsteps on the stairs. John soon appeared and looked at them both; Harry could practically see the electricity crackling between them. "Um...I need to talk to you," he said to his friend, and glanced at his sister. Harry nodded.

"I'll go and talk to Mrs Hudson for a while. I think you two have a lot to say to each other," she added, smirking slightly.

John stared as she left. "What did she mean? You have something to say to me?"

Sherlock looked at him warily. What if John knew about his feelings and was about to turn him down? "John, I..."

"Wait, Sherlock." He stepped closer. "I, um...I want you to know that you'll always be my best friend. And nothing will ever change that. So because of that-"

"I expected as much," Sherlock replied, turning away and folding his arms. This wasn't supposed to hurt. What was going on inside him? "My feelings for you are not reciprocated."

John blinked; Sherlock had feelings for him? "What did you just say?"

"You heard me, John. I have these...feelings...and you are not on the same page. That's perfectly fine and I somehow knew this would be the case."

John had to smile; how long had they been fooling themselves? "For once in your life...you're wrong."