A.N: Hello people! I have not forgotten you, even though it has been a month since my last update. Tip for you all: Don't take A-Level RE, DT, History or Psychology if you want a social life. It's exam hell at the moment. Who knew that the words 'student finance' could strike so much fear into everyone.

But back to the story now. We are nearing the end for Sherlock and John. I hope you guys have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Betaed by the exceptional sethrox973. Feel free to comment and favourite!

Striding into Scotland Yard, John took note of the silence that followed them as working officers quietened down to see what was happening. John took a seat outside of Lestrade's office, while Sherlock debriefed him on the situation. Freshly printed images of Mike's body greeted John in the Scotland Yard office. Surrounding the images were inked commentary, stating facts and data. That's all that Mike was now, data. A puzzle that had been quickly solved by Sherlock.

The officers once again busied themselves with work. John couldn't help but get that feeling of being watched. Risking a glance upwards his eyes fell on both Anderson and Sally watching him intently. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, waiting for them to stop staring at him. The shuffling of feet made him look up. Both Sally and Anderson were standing in front of him, watching him as if he were some endangered animal.

"Hey your that guy from the Christmas party right? Sherlock's friend?" quizzed Sally.

"Yeah that's me. And if I remember correctly, I think I told you both to fuck off that night?" replied John, arms crossed defensively.

Anderson stepped back from the situation before it got heated as Sally made her opinion known with a slightly raised voiced.

"Just remember we told he's a psychopath. Psychopaths get bored."

"I'll bear that in mind," seethed John.

The opening of the office door caused Sally to retreat back to her desk. Sherlock and Lestrade emerged. You could have cut the tension between John and Sally with a knife. Deductions were not needed here, Sherlock knew Sally was causing trouble. Why couldn't she just leave them alone for once?

"Come along John," ordered Sherlock as he shoved past Sally, knocking into her into Anderson. John followed as always. Hailing a taxi quickly Sherlock opened the car door for John. Once inside the car, Sherlock held John's hand just a little to tightly to physically reinforce the fact that Sherlock would always be there for him. They traveled in silence, the hum of the traffic and the driver's radio was the only surrounding noise. John let himself relax into the seat, still worn out from the events of today. So much had happened and it wasn't over yet. Soon the recognizable scenery of Baker Street emerged from the congested streets. Sherlock paid the driver as John pulled himself from the car.

Tea was just what John needed right now. A hot steaming cup of tea and a little bit of rest. Pushing the door open and advancing up the stairs, John instantly found the kettle. Sherlock rapidly followed his partner.

"John, I just wanted to say sorry," stammered Sherlock, staring at the steam rising from the kettle.

"Sorry for?" queried John, raising his hands towards Sherlock's pale cheekbones.

"This. Moriarty. The death of your friend. This is my fault and I need to fix this for you and for us."

John sighed, he wanted to tell Sherlock that he was wrong and that it was all Moriarty's fault but he just couldn't get the words out. He settled for embracing Sherlock, arms wrapped tightly around the other man's body. John kissed Sherlock's neck, working up to the jaw inch by inch. Sherlock pushed himself against John, trying to cover his body, almost trying to dominate. The kisses became more and more heated, hands flew with wild excitement of each others bodies. Clothes were tugged to the point of near unbuttoning. The steaming kettle was forgotten about as Sherlock released his hold of John, to push the newspapers and the rest of the junk from the table on to the floor. Spinning back around Sherlock quickly continued to attack John's mouth with his. He inched John back as he pushed his body over the table. The angle was awkward but it felt so right in the heat of the moment. John opened his legs instinctively as Sherlock wedged between in order to create a better position. Sherlock forcibly yanked the buttons of John's shirt apart, in a fantastic eager move. He marveled at the expanse of skin in front of him.

Wide-eyed, heavy breathing and racing pulse only served to make John grow hotter as he watched Sherlock become animistic, claiming him as well as showing how much he wanted and loved John. Sherlock descended down John's body, stopping just as the band of the waistline. Nimble fingers carefully pulled the zipper of his trousers down. Running his hands firmly down the sides of John's legs, Sherlock proceeded to lightly pull the material towards the floor. Only simple boxer briefs remained, erection strongly outlined, jutting out from the clothing. Sherlock came eye level to it, grinning as if it was his prize. Sherlock nuzzled his nose against the material, taking in the smell of John. John's breath hitched in anticipation. Shifting forward, Sherlock mouthed into John's erection, 'I love you', it was mumbled but John could still hear it. It send a shiver down his spine. Sherlock grabbed at the pants, the cold air hit John's erection, it was soon warmed by Sherlock's mouth as he sucked greedily. Every thought left John's head in that moment. The sensation of pleasure was too overwhelming, he could feel his legs about to give way. Sherlock pulled off with an obscene 'pop' noise. Sherlock pulled himself back up, kissing John, letting the other man taste himself. Running his hands through John's hair, Sherlock asked for permission.

"John, please let me take you."

John nodded. Sherlock disentangled himself from John to quickly find some supplies as John kicked the rest of his clothing off. He bent himself over the table, almost presenting himself on Sherlock's return. Sherlock almost dropped the supplies on seeing John. God, he loved his man. Sherlock warmed the lube in his hands, John spread his legs. Sherlock carefully pushed one digit into John. Slowly sliding in and out, relaxing the muscle. Applying more lubricant, he pushed two digits in, stretching John some more. Face down on the table, John moaned incoherently as Sherlock nudged that spot deep inside him with his slim fingers. Three digits were soon thrust into him, the pleasure was blinding. Sherlock pulled out, foil ripped open as he covered his own erection with the rubber, he carefully smothered himself with more lubrication, then positioned himself at John's entrance. Slowly inching in he tried to not lose control. Once he was fully inside, he paused for a moment to let John adjust. John rocked back onto Sherlock, this was all the encouragement he needed. Sherlock plunged into John continuously, moaning and grunting as he did so. John's erection was trapped between himself and the edge of the table, it was leaking every time Sherlock pushed into him. Sherlock built up pace, thrusting wildly until he could feel himself reaching the edge of oblivion of pleasure.

John screamed in pleasure as Sherlock's final push sent him over the edge, his come dripping down his legs and from the table. Sherlock soon followed, coming inside of John. He gripped the table's edge, to steady himself as he gave John one last kiss. This was pure utter bliss.

"John, I'll clean up here. Get yourself to bed and I'll join you in a moment," breathed Sherlock as he took John's face between his hands. John smiled as he returned the kiss before gathering up his clothing and leaving the room.

Sherlock efficiently cleaned the ejaculation as well as throwing away the used condom. The vibration from his coat alerted him that he had a text. Moving towards his coat he pulled his phone out to view the message.

'That was a nice show, can't wait until you get rid of the pet - Your love Jim xoxo'