The thought of this getting new readers, three years after it's inception, is baffling. At least you new kids won't have to sit through hiatuses that lasted up to a year.
An Understanding
Sherlock understood. I understand very well, he thought, looking down.
Last year, this might have tempted him. Last year, this might have been exactly what he wanted to rip him out of his boredom, his stagnation.
But that changed.
Sherlock's fingers twitched. This is what you want, a part of him whispered. Power. Access to crimes. Involvement in crimes. Stimulation. You want this.
But softly, softly, another part of him presented another picture:
A quiet evening in the flat, sitting on the futon, John Watson's head resting on his shoulder.
The thought of it filled him with indescribable warmth.
Sherlock looked up, and he made his choice.
Prompts were from:
AmonBeck, and it was: stagnantion
CrimsonDuchess, and they were: twitch, futon