"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked as Joan walked in. He was sitting in an arm chair, staring at the wall.

"Nothing"

"Wrong. You are slouched, have droopy eyes and aren't checking the texts you received a couple minutes ago. You've put off coffee with one of your friends, a good friend, probably from high school. Michelle? It is obvious you have nothing better to do with your time, so something's wrong. Now talk."

Joan rolled her eyes, of course he knew.

"Just a-"

"Argument with your family, yes, I know." Sherlock interrupted "Began by your mother, but involving the rest of your family as well."

"If you knew, than why ask?" Joan asked irritably.

"It is a social custom. You are supposed to ask 'what's wrong' and 'are you okay?' when someone is in a bad mood. On that note, are you okay?" he got up abruptly and stood in front of her. He was invading her comfort zone, but she was used to that by now. 10 cm. from her face, he studied her features.

"Yes, Sherlock, I'm fine." she said, a bit of anger crawling into her voice. "I'm just extremely tired."

"Wrong again! Wait here!" he said and walked out of the room. Joan sighed, but waited. He came back, holding a tank-top in one hand and sport's-bra in the other. "Take one."

"Take one? Why?" she asked confused

"Isn't it obvious? I'm giving you a massage. Can't do that when you're in a sweater. Take one." Oh. So that's what this was about. She grabbed the sport's-bra. He turned around as she put in on. She shifted uncomfortably, not because of the skin she was showing - she was utterly comfortable with her body around him, besides, he'd seen more when she got shot, - but because a massage like this felt rather… intimate. When she gave him a massage, it was okay, cause he was really needing it and it was her giving it, not the other way around. Not his hands on her body. Did she want to do this?

"So, what now?" she asked, trying to sound casual. She remembered him saying he was brilliant at massages…

"Well, it would be ideal if you could lie down on a bed, but I'm assuming you won't feel comfortable with that. Which is of course ridiculous." she felt herself blush a bit and cursed her body.

"Yeah, let's not do that."

"So the sofa will have to do. Lay down on your stomach." he said, rolling up his sleeves. She did just that and closed her eyes.

Sherlock warmed his hands a bit and smiled. He knew he wasn't good at showing gratitude, and he hoped this would signal that he cared. She had helped him countless times, more then he'd ever be able to repay. The least he could do was make her comfortable after a hard day. So when he knelt on the ground next to her and put his hands on her back and instead of tensing up, she relaxed, he smiled slightly.

"You can fall asleep Watson. I apologise if it will be a bit rough in the beginning, but your muscles are extremely tight." he said as her started kneading the rigid spots.

"No problem" she mumbled, feeling bliss. He really was good at this.

"Want me to talk?" he asked and she gave him a thumbs up with her hand that was dangling from the sofa. He chuckled.

"When I was still in London I had this interesting case…" he started talking and as she lie there, she thought she was incredibly lucky to have Sherlock as a friend. She listened to him recounting the case with enthusiasm and smiled as he talked.

"It was the pizza-man! Of course no one believed me at first, they were all dim." he finished with triumph.

"Thank you, Sherlock." Joan said softly, stifling a yawn.

"What for, Watson?"

"For being here. I'm so lucky to have found you, you know."

"You would have been fine without me. You did much more for me then I for you and you know that."

"Hmm… I'm not sure about that." she said and yawned once more "Goodnight, Sherlock" she mumbled, not even realising that falling asleep here on the sofa meant he would probably carry her to bed.

"Nighty night, Watson."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite." she managed to say before letting sleep take her. Sherlock massaged her for a while longer, not sure if she was actually asleep or not yet.

"Oh, Watson. You changed me more than you know." suddenly his phone beeped. "Oh, look here! We have a new case, brilliant! You'll be ready tomorrow, won't you Watson? Sure you will, you always are. Always ready, always kind, always willing to find a mystery. Some might say were are adventurous. It's so much better when you have someone to solve cases with, you know?" he looked at her sleeping "It's a bit easier talking with you when you're asleep. Of course, if you were asleep during cases, then I wouldn't know you thoughts. That would be a shame, huh?" she didn't reply.

"Right, I guess it's time to get you to bed." he said getting up and rubbing his sore knees. He picked her up bridal style and carried to her bedroom with ease. She was quite light. As he lay her down in bed, he poked her in the stomach. "You should eat more, Watson. You have to have your full strengths on cases. I know you know that. I taught you that. That reminds me - I have an exercise for you tomorrow. We'll see how much you learned this month. Should be fun. Well, fun for me, probably a bit irritating for you." he sat down next to her and didn't speak for a minute.

"Right! Goodnight, Watson, see you tomorrow!" He said as he got up and walked towards the door. "Get some sleep, you'll need it!" he smiled as he looked back and closed the door.

When Joan woke up the next morning, she was greeted with the smell of scrambled eggs.

"Come on Watson, eat up and get ready. We have a case!" She smiled and stretched, yawning. That was a great night of sleep. She was ready for another day with Sherlock Holmes.

So… that's that! Sorry it took a while to post this, but I was having a bit of a hard couple weeks. Plus, I wanted to write other fan fiction. I know I said this one might be longer but it just didn't work. Oh, I don't have a beta, so sorry for the mistakes.

Which brings me to my question - would you want more chapters? More one-shots about their growing relationship (either friendship or more, that depends on what you want)? They could be longer then, and you could give me prompts. So… what do you think? Please let me know!

Signing off, Angus of Sherlock's