A/N: Hello again. You have stuck with us thus far! Congrats! Your prize: Another Chapter! And thank you to my beautiful reviewer Sendai.

Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock, those are the creations of Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and most importantly Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It's their sandbox and I'm just playing in it...Oh look I made a sandcastle.

xXx

Ever since John had had drinks with Lestrade, he had been acting…differently, and Sherlock couldn't figure out why. It had been a little over two weeks and the consulting detective was thoroughly stumped. If he wanted to know what was going on, he would have to ask the only person who knew about humans interactions better than him. Sherlock cringed at the thought of asking his brother for advice.

One night, Sherlock's need for more information overrode his pride. John was working late, so Sherlock went over to his brother's flat and burst in the front door without knocking.

"My, I need some advice."

Sherlock rounded the corner into the living room to find Mycroft pulling away from a very heavy snogging session with Lestrade. Sherlock smirked at the flustered look on both men's faces.

"You couldn't have called dear brother?"

"No, this was too important."

Mycroft let out an annoyed huff. He then looked over at Greg apologetically. Greg got the clue that Sherlock wouldn't talk with him in the room and that Sherlock wasn't going to leave until he could talk to his brother about what was bothering him.

"I'll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me."

Mycroft stared at Greg as he walked out. He turned his attention to Sherlock, who had taken a seat in a chair facing the couch.

"What is so important that you had to interrupt my evening?"

"John's been acting differently."

"How so?"

"He's been dressing like he's trying to impress a girl, but whenever I ask who she is, he says 'no one'. It's entirely frustrating."

"Okay…"

"And then when he thinks I'm not looking, I can feel him staring. But when I look at him he blushes and looks away."

"Honestly Sherlock, you have no idea what's going on?"

"Would I be here if I did?"

Mycroft inclined his head. "Sherlock all of what you've described leads to one conclusion."

"Oh and what's that?"

"John fancies you."

Sherlock scowled at Mycroft.

"I'm sure of it. I have it on good authority that John has said so."

"Then why hasn't he told me himself?"

"Because dear brother, he didn't want to ruin your friendship if you didn't reciprocate his feelings."

"But that's stupid!"

"You and I know that, but don't tell John that, he wouldn't take it well."

"So what should I do?"

"Show him you care."

Sherlock considered this for a moment, then got up and left.

Greg came back in to the living room and sat next to Mycroft on the couch.

"What was that about?"

"Sherlock and John are finally going to get over their stupid pride and admit they love each other."

"About time."

"Now my dear detective inspector, where were we before my little brother so rudely interrupted us?"

"I think about here." With that Greg crushed his lips to Mycroft's.

xXx

I know I'm evil to leave you hanging there. But Frankie is a sadistic bastard. And I'm a slave to his moods. Don't worry Frankie might throw us a bone in the next chapter. I don't know, I can't control him. Let me know what you thought, cause hey that box is there for a reason.