An incredible thing happened to Sherlock today.

He got excited in the kitchen. Of course it was not the food he was cooking that made him excited. In fact nothing was worth being excited for about the food. When John was here( as an adult) Sherlock never had to worry about eating. John was always there to make delicious and healthy food for him, and force him to eat. So he couldn't really handle anything difficult in the kitchen, but according to the book about children's diet Mycroft gave to him, children's meals were easy to cook. He was quite proud of himself: so far he succeeded in frying two eggs as well as making a bid vegetable salad. John liked eating vegetable salads before-or when he grows up.

But that wasn't what made him excited either. Just now he was thinking about how John would act when he woke up. Would he be frightened in such an unfamiliar place and cry for his mummy? Then he would definitely have no idea what to do. He was excellent at solving problems though, as long as they had nothing to do with children.

And so he frowned. What was he supposed to do if-

Just then a small, calm voice came from behind.

'Mr Holmes?'

Sherlock turned back nervously. John was already up. His eyes were a bit red from yesterday's crying, but thank God, Sherlock could tell he hadn't cried this morning. He was fine, although he looked very pale. He needed to eat more, Sherlock thought, he was too thin. Maybe his family treated him badly. Maybe he had been bullied by the children luckier than him. After all he was there with Sherlock, after all his sufferings. For that reason Sherlock admired him, as well as his great courage.

'Morning, John,' he said, trying to find something more suitable for this situation while speaking, 'Breakfast's ready.'

John nodded. He looked confused for a moment, it seemed to Sherlock that he didn't know whether to stand there still or to sit down by the table. Obviously he was nervous, although he appeared to be calm.

'Well, sit,' Sherlock added,'Are you feeling well?' How was he supposed to be well so soon after being abandoned by his family? That wasn't a good question.

However John answered, 'Yes I am, sir. Thank you.' and sat at the table.

'You could call me Sherlock, John,' said Sherlock while handing John a plate containing an egg and another which contained much vegetable salad. John smiled when he saw the vegetable salad- Sherlock was right. His doctor loved vegetable salads. And Sherlock loved the way John smiled. When he smiled, his entire face lit up, and he showed his rare happiness so truly, even when he was abandoned, even when he was staying with a stranger. Sherlock always loved that.

'Thank you, sir- I mean Sherlock.' He said. Sherlock stared at him with much love in his eyes. His John was back, finally. He would ask no more from God. John noticed his gaze very soon. He blushed a little as all children would do, and lowered his head.

It was embarrassing for John, for he did not know how close he and Sherlock once were. All he could remember was that Sherlock saved him from his darkness. That already made Sherlock very important to little John.

But still there was an embarrassing silence between them. Sherlock tried to sit near John, but John jumped a little when he felt Sherlock's scent so near to him. So Sherlock had to move a bit farther from John. It was embarrassing and disappointing for him, as well as painful. However he made a vow not to show his sadness to this child whatever happened. So he thought he should make the first move.

'John,' he spoke with a gentle voice, 'everything's okay with me. It's fine. You're fine. I will protect you whatever happens, you know that?' John looked up. His face turned red again, but this time he didn't look away from Sherlock, and he didn't protest when Sherlock reached for his hand and held it tightly. His small hand fit perfectly in Sherlock's.

'Sherlock.' He whispered. He was blushing again. Was he always blushing? Sherlock wondered. It seemed easy to get him blushing. And that was adorable, he added to himself.

He moved closer to the child until their arms could touch. 'You are amazing, John.' And he meant it. It was also excellent to see John blushing again. He looked just adorable when he did that. He was so shy in his childhood.

'So are you, Sherlock,' the boy replied, he seemed to be unsure about what to say, so he repeated Sherlock's words. He was almost looking afraid, for he worried so much that he would do something wrong to upset this kind adult.

'Thank you, my boy.' Sherlock smiled at him, and rubbed his little knuckles soothingly. He felt a soft feeling inside his heart. That might be what we called love, he thought. He felt he was on his way to something, to John, and to his brand new life.