Wow, I've had such a great response for this story. Thank you for all your kind words and reviews. I hope the characters are not too OOC. I also hope that this chapter flows just as well, I've re-written this one a couple of times in order to get the correct mannerisms and tone for Sherlock and John. Have fun reading! :) Any comments are much welcome.

Pushing through his front door, John heard a beeping noise. Pulling his phone from his pocket, John viewed the new message;

'I had a great evening tonight John, I would very much like to do it again sometime-SH'

John unconsciously smiled at the text message, this man was having an effect on John. He had lost all control over his client, but John was just fine with that. John wondered for a moment if Sherlock was the answer to the that spark that his life was missing. John replied quickly to the message.

'Yes absolutely,whenever you like-JW'

John agonised whether or not his text seemed to keen, eager in tone. He was acting like a 15 year old boy again, worrying if the other person had interpreted the message wrong. John tried to focus on everything else but his phone, he pulled out the remaining contents of his pockets, placing his gun firmly away back into the drawer. An answer still hadn't come from Sherlock's number, John huffed with slight sadness. John ready himself for bed. As he crawled under the sheets his thoughts soon drifted back to Sherlock as he fell asleep. That night he dreamed of the tall dark haired man. This Sherlock man was enigma, a strange fascinating undiscovered treasure, that John Watson wanted to explore more of. John slept well that night.

Arriving home Sherlock paced into his flat, cataloguing the night's events in his mind palace. Every mannerism, word spoken and action of John was being mentally carved into the walls of a room that Sherlock had sectioned off in the palace for John. The way John had reacted to his deductions had been absolutely divine, no one else ever acted like that. Sherlock felt so accepted around John, like his intellect was a shinning feature of what made him great. Sherlock also observed the gun that John had carried tonight, a shiver travelled down Sherlock's spine as he thought about John handling a gun. That wasn't right, Sherlock shouldn't be getting turned on by this. He didn't do emotions, so why did he let his thoughts turn to thinking John was sexy. Sherlock mentally shock himself from going down that path that would lead to an unwanted erection that Sherlock just did not have the energy to will away.

Walking into the kitchen, Sherlock set himself down at the table to begin another experiment and face another night of loneliness. As Sherlock twisted the dial on his microscope a small thought came to him; surely texting John would be a socially acceptable thing to do?

Sherlock tugged his phone and began to formulate a message to John. After a couple of drafts he finally had created what he deemed to be a acceptable text to send. He hit send and waited.

'I had a great evening tonight John, I would very much like to do it again sometime-SH'

John's reply came soon after;

'Yes absolutely,whenever you like-JW'

An odd feeling bubbled up from inside of Sherlock, he had no idea what this new emotion was, he had never experienced this sensation before. Sherlock put it down to being made to eat by John, he was probably digestion. Sherlock returned to his experiment, letting John get on with his night in peace.

A whole day had passed, John still hadn't heard anything from Sherlock. John almost felt worried. It wasn't like he had a right to feel this way, Sherlock was just a client after all, no different from any other customer. John went about his business, leaving the flat to purchase shopping for himself. The hustle and bustle of everyday life surrounded John as he made his way to the store. 'Too many damn tourists' thought John as he pushed past a large group of camera welding people. As John neared the store, the sound of sirens floated in the air around him. Police tape surrounded the entrance to the shop, police men were shouting to keep the press back. John was just about to turn to find another local shop when he distinctly heard Sherlock's voice.

"Lestrade you are an idiot, can you not see that this man was a keen gardener going by the state of his fingernails?" hissed Sherlock.

John pushed his way back to the tape to see if Sherlock was in fact there or not. His eyes clasped on Sherlock who was bent over a body observing the nails on the hand of the dead man. John couldn't help but call out to Sherlock.

"Sherlock what's happening?" asked John, eyes fixed on the body. Sherlock's head snapped up to view John, the detective hadn't even noticed John standing there. Sherlock rose up back straight as he stepped over to John. The two men locked eyes once again.

"John what are you doing here?" inquired Sherlock.

"Went shopping, obviously or at least tried to go shopping" smiled John gesturing to the scene behind Sherlock. Sherlock proceeded to launch into a monotone speech about the crime scene.

"Middle-aged man, avid gardener, owns one very affectionate cat, recently divorced and stabbed by person unknown" stated Sherlock, just waiting for John to call him a freak but he didn't. John licked his lips before replying.

"Brilliant Sherlock, it's a good thing that the police have you to turn too" complimented John.

That fluttering feeling was back in Sherlock's stomach. Sherlock gently grinned and excused himself to continue his case. John said his goodbyes to the detective, turned and went further down the street to continue his shopping.

As John checked his emails he felt a slight vibration against his leg, realising there was a possibility it was Sherlock texting him; John rushed to get his phone out of his pocket. Unlocking the screen he saw what he had been hoping for all day; the much anticipated message from Sherlock.

'I need to see you-SH'

John replied as soon as he had finished reading the message.

'Of course, come around. Flat 5, Pye street-JW'

Within moments of sending the text, there was a knock at the door. Surely that couldn't be Sherlock?

John jumped up from his seat, practically ran to the door and yanked it open with little more force than was needed. There was Sherlock stood, silently observing John.

"Okay that's kind of creepy" commented John. Sherlock stopped himself from grinning like an idiot but merely replied;

"I followed you home earlier"

Of course he had. John shouldn't really be surprise this man was slightly out the ordinary. John chuckled as he imagined Sherlock sneaking around trying to follow him home. Sherlock expected John to be pissed off, but seeing John smile and laugh threw him off guard a little. John stepped aside to let Sherlock into his flat. Sherlock glanced round the flat, deducing smaller pieces of John's life from his possessions.

Alcoholic sibling judging by the scratches on the mobile phone. No family photos, doesn't get on with them or not close enough to them.

Sherlock followed John towards the sofa in the flat. Both men sat down, silence filled the room.

"So any particular reason you wanted to see me?" asked John, eyes observing the fibres of the carpet. Sherlock hesitated for a moment, then answered.

"I am constantly surrounded by idiots, John. I have no one of higher intellect to talk too. This case had been a stressful one, the killer almost alluded me. Talking to my skull on the mantle gets a bit boring after a while" complained Sherlock while John listened intently.

John felt sorry for the other man, he seemed to have a much harder social life than most people. His intellect made Sherlock feel isolated from most of society. This man just needed a friend and John could be that for him.

Chapter 3 finished for you guys! I just really hopes this lives up to your expectations. If there are any mistakes, sorry! :)