Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A secret conviction (155) 

Sherlock was walking on an unlit street alone… The night was cold and full of stars. And I’m unable to name one of them, he laughs silently before turning in an alleyway between a bar and a shop.

It was the last night of the year, but he was too high to realize that the New Year was minutes away.

Last year was good, too good maybe. He remained clean, with a few exceptions. As it was the condition to be accepted as a consultant by the police, it wasn’t that hard to stay clean. But something changed a month ago… The disgust of some of the officers, constantly calling him ‘freak’ or ‘psychopath’, was slowly taking its toll. He was becoming human. As if! Always feeling alone even around people. Suddenly, the added bonus of Christmas spirit all around him was just… too much.

His back against the cold brick wall, he closes his eyes. I don’t want to go down this road again… I need… help.

His thoughts derail as Big Ben starts chiming midnight as fireworks exploded. Brilliant colours suddenly replacing the stars.

Turning his gaze towards the end of the alleyway, he saw his brother getting out rapidly of his car, worried.

It’s the new year... 2010.  Sherlock thinks suddenly confidently, Yes, IT'S GOING TO BE BETTER.

A secret test (163)

Sherlock was looking around him, pondering where to start. The truck and men that Mycroft sent to help him move his stuff just left.

He was alone in his new flat.

But I won’t be alone for long… He was taken aback by a surprising burst of joy as the image of a blond ex-military doctor springs to his mind. John was… intriguing to say the least. The way he offered me his phone, without thinking.  He wasn’t intimidated by me.  And a doctor at home will definitely be handy. Soldiers have a tendency to be loyal to a fault… I must ask Mycroft to double-check that. We’ll need a second bedroom for now but… who knows. But first thing first! 

Putting down a pile of scientific books, he fishes out his phone.  

I need something. SH

Already destroyed your new flat out of boredom? MH

Funny. No. Could you please check out my new flatmate? SH

Flatmate? Oh Doctor John H. Watson. How? MH

Normal interview. Offer a bribe, loyalty, resistance to stress and danger, etc. SH

Oh. Yes. My pleasure. MH

Thanks. SH

And if he does not meet your standards? MH

He will. SH

I will let you know when the timing is right. SH

Putting his phone back in his pocket, he smiles as he opens boxes. 

A secret jealousy... (49) 

For John, it was surreal in too many ways to even count them! His first meeting with Sherlock, the flat, the visit to the crime scene, the unexpected sexiness of it… and now, a drug bust? In their flat?

He felt that his protective behaviour was as strong as in the army… It was the battlefield, all over again. With only one man in his platoon: Sherlock. He turns towards the detective, who was arguing with DI Lestrade and ended by showing up the expanse of his alabaster forearm to proof that he’s not currently using.

Brotherhood of the bloody nicotine patch! What is this… Harry Potter and the Nicotine Patchers! Why does Lestrade act like they are friends! 

He turns his gaze away from the two men, exasperated by his reaction. Oh God John, stop this right now! Lestrade is not a threat, you have no hold on Sherlock… he's not even your bloody friend! 

With another look at the tall man, he thinks, Too bad he’s ‘married to his work’… Maybe I can change his mind? Wonder if he’s into men? Shit! Where does that come from? 

The doctor had some experience with men, but he never looked at a man like a prospective… boyfriend?

He was slightly panicking, not knowing how to read that it-must-remains-secret-or-I-will-die-of-embarrassment uncharacteristic jealousy burst.

The secret of a good cuppa! (9)

"I’m going to TESCO. Are you coming?" As usual, the only response was silence. “Need something?”

“Peroxide. Take my money or Mycroft's credit card.”

“No, I won’t!”

John left quickly. Not having enough money to buy everything he wants or top of the shelf products was driving him crazy! I should ask the surgery for more hours… but with the Work I really can’t! It would be easier if we were actually paid for what we are doing! 

His friend never cares about money, having a fund that gives him a generous allowance. He knows that Sherlock doesn’t mind sharing it, but John won’t accept what he sees as charity. He puts the cheapest tea he could find into his basket. Anyway, I don’t see any difference.

Once at home he puts the kettle on and goes to his bedroom to get his laptop.

As soon the living-room door closes, Sherlock runs to the kitchen and replaces all the newly purchased cheap tea with his stash of pricey Whittard teabags and dashes back to his experiment.

Later, with a satisfied sigh, John sits down with a nice cuppa. “You’re such a snob, Sherlock! The tea in an ugly package always tastes as good as the one from your fancy store!”

Sherlock smiles thinking of the dozen boxes hidden under his bed.

A dangerous secret game (John POV) (22)

It’s been a few months since we started sharing a flat. It’s been great, really great… My limp is now gone, the tremor in my hand, still. I’ve found a satisfactory job in a nearby surgery and we are chasing criminals around London.

But… sometimes… when the flat is silent, I can’t resist the demons that takes over my mind. Exit the exhilaration of the chase; exit the satisfaction of helping my numerous patients; exit the inaccessible luscious lips of my too beautiful flat mate…

The horror of the war, the fear of dying on the battlefield after I’ve been shot, the deaths of many comrades all around me, I can do nothing.

Those nights, the only thing that can calm me is the weight of my gun in my hand. As if, by having the control over my own life, I’m affirming the fact that I am alive. The ritual is always the same. I’m removing all the bullets less one, and I spin the barrel.

Opening the barrel, I’m looking where the bullet stopped to know if it’s my virtual end or if I’ve got another chance… 10 times.

Safe. Safe. Death. Safe. Safe. Safe. Safe. Safe. Death... Safe.

I haven’t decided yet what I will do if I ever lose the game… So I'm still spinning the barrel.

The secret library (John POV) (21)

“Sherlock! What’s that?” I was doing a little clean up in a space Ms Hudson gives us in the basement and found a box full of books. Serious, scientific, expensive books.

After a quick look, the detective confirms my suspicion “It’s mine, from my time at uni.”

The stamp and the labels where all clearly identifying the books as the propriety of the Oxford University Library. “These are mostly library books! Why on earth do you still have them?”

Sherlock, not realizing why I was fussing about this, stares at me clueless. “Why? Tuition fees are exorbitant…”

“The tuition fees are irrelevant! You stole those books and…” I was looking inside few of them, “You’ve written all over them! How can a genius like you not understand the basic principles of a library!”

“They were full of errors! It’s better for the students that will…”

“But the books are in the basement, no students will EVER been able to read them!”

“Even better!”

While I was pondering if I could return the books in the state they were, my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. It was Mycroft… Rolling my eyes at the unknown camera, I read:

Thank you for your will to protect public properties, but don’t worry about the fees, Doctor Watson, I’ve paid long ago for those books.

A secret phobia… (96)

First it was a squeak… Quickly followed by a yelp then a real honest scream. Opening his eyes slowly, Sherlock saw his friend jumping on a chair.

Weird... John usually doesn’t like when I walk on the furniture…

“What are you doing?” He asks sleepily.

“It’s… a rat!!” He was white as a sheet as he replies with a shaking voice. “Don’t like them…”

“I can see that…” Sherlock rises from the sofa. “Where is it?”

“Under the fridge I think…”

“The beast is probably really scared presently…” With a smile he kneels in front of the appliance.

“Scared to death would be nice…” The doctor mutters.

Trying to find the little animal, Sherlock couldn’t resist. “You’ve been to war and you’re afraid of a 15 centimeter mammal…” Finally seeing something, Sherlock laughs. “ ‘got it. It’s shaking poor thing.” Getting up, he pets the little beast.

“Sherlock! It’s filthy, just put it outside!” And I'm calling an exterminator as soon as I’m back on the ground…

Suddenly, Ms. Hudson screamed frantically from the 1^st floor. “Have you seen my niece's hamster? I lost it!!”

Fuck, it was only a bloody hamster! I will never hear the end of it!

“Got it, Ms. Hudson!” Sherlock screams back, grinning as he was taking many pictures of his (still above the ground) blogger!

A secret detective! (37)

"Oh My God! Sherlock, you need to read this!"

Sherlock turns his eyes slowly to look at his friend. "What?"

"You won’t believe what I found under the kitchen cabinet!" John was waving a paper with excitement! They were doing a little bit of renovation after the detective voluntarily set something on fire in the sink… He walks near the sofa and gives the man an old piece of paper. It was an old letter.

“Read!”

“Hum… London, 5 May 1897, Sir, I need your help urgently for a secret matter. The quality of your deductions in the case of Lady Hamilton's disappearance…” The detective continues to read silently and raises his head to glance at John. “And? Why is it something that excites you?”

“Don’t you see? A detective used to live in 221B! This is wonderful! I don’t know if Ms. Hudson knew about this…” He runs to the stair and calls for her.

“Boring. Anyway, it’s easy to realize with the information in the letter that the mother-in-law was the culprit.” Then he turns back to the book he was reading.

John was now showing the letter to Ms. Hudson who become quickly as excited as John... They were talking loudly and rapidly to Sherlock's despair!

“I can’t see why all the fuss! Could you please stop babbling?”

A secret passion (87)

John was supposed to stay at Harry’s place for the night… But with Harry being her sweet-not-sober-self, he decided to go back to Baker Street before he said something that he may or may not regret.

As he was going up the stairs to his room he heard noises coming from the living. Deciding that a cup of tea and his flat mate's company may be just what he needs to forget the not so great evening he opens the door.

A soft light was warming the room while soft classical music was coming from a computer. His computer. But for once it wasn’t what he saw first.

Sherlock was in the middle of the room in sweatpants and t-shirt dancing. More than just dancing, it was ballet!

Using the mantelpiece as support he was doing graceful pliés. Then his long body performed pirouettes and entrechats… Following the beats of the melancholic music, his mind blind to anything but his surroundings. His body, pliant to his strong will, was now doing jetés and écarts.

Closing the door quietly, John left Sherlock to his training. Pleased to know that his friend's (beautiful) body wasn’t just genetic but probably from years of training but a little sad that he never talked about it…

He went to bed smiling, dreaming of a young Baryshnikov.

A secret case (196)

“What did you do today? An experiment of some sort?” John asks as he was putting away the shopping.

“Nothing… The criminals are decidedly uninteresting nowadays… It’s boring.” The detective was watching outside morosely. 

“Maybe you should lower your standards…” Spotting his shoes near the door he asks, “you didn’t go out?”

Looking curiously reluctant, Sherlock murmurs, “nooooo… and lower my standards?Come on John! Nothing under a 7!”

“Strange, because your shoes have dirt on them,” The doctor argues with a little smile. I may not be the Great Sherlock Holmes, I should trade-mark that, but I know that he’s hiding something!

“Oh… I went to Speedy’s for tea.” He frowns as if it was John’s fault “You weren’t here to make it!”

Walking silently in direction of his friend’s phone, he replies playfully.  “I know… silly me, having to go to work, playing doctor all day long.” He snatched the phone and quickly opens the text app… and begins to laugh!

“What! Give me that phone!”

“You went to look for a bloody dog!”

“Don’t laugh at me! The days are terribly long when you’re not… without cases!” John walks back to the kitchen for the tea, still chucking, as Sherlock royally ensconces himself in his chair. “And the little girl was really upset… Nice dog, a cute beagle.”

A secret strategy (168)

“Sherlock…” Mrs. Hudson was looking at the living room, shaking her head. “The mess you’ve made…” Turning to look at her favourite tenant, she smiles. The detective was working at his computer, having left a trail from the kitchen table – where his experiment was still bubbling! – to his desk.

She knows that Sherlock and John are often arguing about the state of the flat. The doctor and ex-soldier, was naturally inclined to keep everything clean and in it's place. It was bound to happen that Sherlock would drive him slightly crazy sometimes…

Hum, that’s won’t do… I must find a way to coerce him into doing a little bit of clean-up.

Inwardly smirking but wearing a calm poker face, she starts rambling to herself, while putting little things away. “Poor John, he worked alllllll day at the surgery, chaos, sick children and all….” She sighs theatrically “He must be sooooo happy when it’s time to go home… To his quiet flat…  Sooooooo sad that he must do the chores AND the shopping… I hope he won’t get fed up one day, poor thing…”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sherlock rise to start to pick the mugs and his paper, before starting to clean up the kitchen mess earnestly.

She silently left the flat, happy with her little bluff.

The secret doctor (John POV) (20)

"Sherlock? Have you been playing with my Doctor Who DVD collection?”

“Why would I want to watch that silly show? Nothing is remotely scientifically accurate!”

I was certain that he was binge watching Doctor Who without telling me! He knows that I would prefer to watch it with him… But the posh bastard will never admit it! I will prove it!

“By the way I found the phone number you were looking for, it’s on the table.”

“Great! I'd call you a genius, but I'm in the room.” 

This is too easy; the quotes are probably spread all over his Mind Palace already...

“Hum... Thanks anyway! But it’s time to go to Greg’s party now.”

“Yes… but I don’t want to go…” His pitiful face was spot on 10th before his regeneration.

“What should we bring to the party?” I ask, trying to hide a smirk.

“A banana?” He replies without thinking. Oh My God! His clueless face is priceless.

I was trying. Very hard! I promise! But I start to laugh without being able to stop.

Looking at me like I was mad, Sherlock grabbed his coat and stalks down the stairs without waiting for me, his long coat floating behind him. Once at the front door he bellows, “Come along, John!

I'm coming... my dear madman without a box...

Ms. Hudson secret juice! (118)

“Brother mine, there’s something I would really like for you to…” He pauses and looks at Sherlock. “Are you listening?”

“NoPE!” The reply was slurred with an over the top pop at the end. John, who was in his chair, in front of the detective, starts laughing merrily.

“Are you… For God sakes, are you drunk? Both of you?” It’s the middle of the afternoon! This house is a circus!

“No, no, no….” John protests, not able to stand up “We only… no alcohol… juice… Ms. Hudson's special juice…” He chuckles as he points with a shaky finger toward a nearly empty bottle on the kitchen table.

With a smirk, Mycroft took the bottle and sniff, frowning. It’s clearly homemade alcohol, quite potent judging by how wasted they are. Tsk tsk Ms. Hudson... A quiet chuckle escapes his lips as he puts the bottle down.

“Mycroft Holmes! Don’t touch it! It’s ours!” John protests.

“Yeahhh… Don’t put your big big nose in it… Gonna spoil it!” Sherlock adds.

With a conniving smile to his friend, the doctor murmurs, “It’s true! His nose is really big.”

Nodding at John, the younger Holmes explains, murmuring as well, “always been HUGE… His childhood photos are…”

Exasperated by their attitude, Mycroft turns and stalks to the door. “Call me at the end of… your bacchanal!”

The secret of the Persian slipper (29) 

"Sherlock?"

His friend, tapping rapidly like a bloody sixties secretary, replies, "hummm?"

"I've got a stupid question..."

Sherlock mumbles "If it's stupid, it may be better to control yourself, John, you don't want to lose my high esteem, do you?" while he continues tapping.

Where did he learn his typing technique? He wonders.

"As soon as I started to use computers, it's really more quick and precise. You should learn it also."

"How could you know..." John sighs. "Forget it!"

Sherlock removes his elegant fingers from the keyboard and turns. "I'm curious now, what is that stupid question of yours?"

"It's silly, really... But I can't stop thinking about it!" Picking up Sherlock's Persian slipper, he looks with curiosity at the shoe where the man used to put his cigarettes. "What the hell happened to the other one?"

"What?" Sherlock was looking at John quizzically.

"Slippersssss, they come in a pair... What happens to the other one?"

"This is your important question?" The detective was clearly restraining a laugh.

"Yes! This is a legitimate question!! Don't make fun of me!"

 "I'm sorry to say John... But that secret is not mine to reveal." And the git turns back to his writing.

Putting down the slipper, annoyed now, John petulantly declares, "I don't care! Keep your little secret about your... your... babouche!"

A slow secret... (6)

Sherlock was legitimately looking for a paper (Ok he was snooping around out of boredom) in John's room and found something...

That evening, the detective smoothly asks his best friend if he was available for a case in Edinburgh.

"Of course. Do you want to go with the Caledonian Sleeper or with the express?" John replies.

"Just pick up a car at Rent-a-car after your shift at the surgery tomorrow." The detective says without being able to repress a smug smile.

"You know that I don't have my driver's..." The Doctor replies before seeing Sherlock's now devious smile. "For God sakes! Have you been through my stuff again?"

"No, no..."  but the detective was now unable to stop laughing.

"I won't discuss the matter with you." John asks seriously "Do we really need to go in Scotland?"

At those words Sherlock completely lost it and falls on the sofa with merry tears on his eyes.

"John.... how is it possible to get your license cancelled because you were... were... driving too slowly!"

"I am certainly not the only one..."

"Three times! Oh God I can't remember the last time I laughed that much..."

"Then keep laughing, I'm going to bed!"

"Be careful not to fall asleep on your way!"

"I'm going to put my papers in a safe at my bank!"

A secret procedure (124)

"Out.” Sherlock was pointing at the table. “Immediately.”

“What?” The only new thing on the chemical hazard that was the dinner table was a dozen candy canes bundled up with a red ribbon. “The candy canes? Really? You always love candy...”

“Don’t have any problem with sweets. But I abhor… peppermint.” The disgust of his tone was obvious.  

How could someone hate peppermint?  “But it’s December 1^st, the Christmas season is beginning… And I always eat candy canes!” John argues.

“You’ll do so at work… At Harry’s place… Anywhere but here.” Judging by the detective's expression, it was non-negotiable.

Okay, now I need to know. “Care to explain why?”

With repugnance, Sherlock puts the offensive candies in the bin and walks back to his chair. “It’s the dentist's fault…” he mumbles.

“The dentist?”

“I had to be… checked regularly by the dentist for a year when I was 14… And he gave me a special toothpaste that I had to use after each meal, drinks… I brushed my teeth 10 times a day! It was flavoured with peppermint. After few month, I developed a revulsion for the taste.”

Smiling, John looks at his friend in sympathy. “Yeah… dentists can be horrible. A full year of treatments...” What can it be… it’s long especially at 14. “OH GOD! You had braces!!”

A secret bet! (131)

They were warming up in front of the telly with a big mug of hot cocoa when John’s phone rings.

“Hello Greg!... No, not at all, we are watching a movie… The Muppet Christmas Carol…” John laughs merrily. “I know! He lost a bet… No, I’m not telling you what it was!... Yeah, okay see you tonight for a pint, bye!”

“I don’t know what’s so funny about me watching this movie.” Sherlock shrugs, knowing perfectly that Graham was going to teased him about it later.

“It’s a Christmas movie. With bloody puppets!” The doctor was grinning without being able to stop.

“Except for the part of them not being human, it’s really following the book very well. … And Michael Caine is a good actor…” Sherlock rolls his eyes “Could you please stop laughing!”

“You know, you could just tell me that you are enjoying the film… I won’t tell a soul.” John says with a devious look.

“Shut up! We need more cocoa.” Sherlock replies, feigning exasperation.

Still giggling, John walks back to the kitchen. “Michael Caine is really a good Scrooge. Not everybody can be as disagreeably cold as…” He was interrupted by a knock on the door.  

“Except one person…” Sherlock chuckles, “Come in!”

A nonplussed Mycroft entered the flat while the two friends burst into laughter buoyantly. 

A secret recipe (136)

As soon as the door of the flat was closed, John was surrounded by the smell of pine-scented candles and… butane.

“Sherlock?” John casts a worried look in direction of the kitchen. “What the hell are you doing?”

He was holding his torch in front of a spit, carefully adding a thin layer of cake batter with his other hand.

“It’s obvious, no?” Sherlock smiles. “It’s a spit cake!” His eyes were sparkling with joy. “I'm using my nanny's secret recipe! She used to do one every Christmas.”

Chuckling, John carefully removes the torch from his friend hands and closes it. “It’s usually in front of the fire.” He points toward the living room. “Which we have.”

“Oh… It’s true. Didn’t think about that.” Removing his goggles, he rushes to starts a fire. “John! Bring the spit, careful not to burn yourself!”

Using heavy duty gloves, John places the spit with the already half constructed cake in front of the small fireplace. “Happy?”

“Yes! It’s brilliant, don’t you think?” Holding the spoon with the batter he winks at John. “And now that you can turn the spit for me, it’s going to be wayyyyyyyy easier!”

Laughing, John sits beside his friend and turns the spit slowly. “You know that you're crazy!”

“And yet you are turning the spit for the baumkuchen!”

A secret list (143)

John was thinking about what Sherlock would like as stocking stuffers… Sweets with chocolate or honey. I don’t know if he likes maple syrup? Maybe a few classical CDs or some partitions… Maybe I should call Mycroft or his mother for ideas? A new blue scarf? Ticket for a concert at St-Martin’s-in-the-field? A new power pack battery thing for his phone… Or I can simply put many vouchers for free kisses. From me… Maybe that way he’ll understand the bloody message!

His mental list was suddenly cut short by the exasperated voice of his friend.

“It’s easy… Graham! The man was killed by an icicle that simply broke off from the roof.” Sherlock was pacing in the living room, rolling his eyes “… Of course, it disappeared! It was warmer this morning, so the ice melted! It's what ice DOES!” He pinches his nose trying to stay calm as Lestrade was probably demanding an explanation on something. “God! You’re all clueless! I don’t understand how it is possible for your lot to even distribute parking tickets!” He hangs up on Lestrade without letting him asks one more (probably stupid) question.

Frowning at the childish outburst, John finally realizes the perfect gift for Sherlock.

Forget everything except the kisses, coal lumps will be good enough for him until he learns how to behave!

Bathroom's secret (1)

John realizes one day that Sherlock was spending more time that his usual already too long time in the bathroom. Their only bathroom!

"I'm going to be late to work! Get out now!"

"It won't be long! I can relax in the bath for God sakes!"

"It's been more then an hour! What are you doing anyway? You've spent a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom in the last weeks. If you're not out in 5 minutes... I'm opening the door! I'm a doctor! I've seen everything!" Almost...

Of course the git doesn't acknowledge the ultimatum... After 5 minutes John opens the door with a spare key.

Sherlock, still in a bath full of bubbles, quickly puts something on the floor under a towel. He looks away but not quick enough to hide the fat tears on his cheeks...

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" John asks, his annoyance temporarily replaced by concern.

"... Noth... Nothing..."

"You can tell me you know?"

"He's dead... it's impossible! He can't die, Harry needs him!"

Smiling, John moves the towel to reveal the last Harry Potter's book.

"Sherlock. You know it's not for real?"

"Of course!" Sherlock gets out of the bath stark naked and snatches the book from John's hand "but it's not fair nonetheless! Sirius was my favourite! " before slamming the door of his bedroom.

A secret pastime! (38)

"John?" Sherlock waits a minute "Johnnnnnnn!" Another minute passes..." I can’t get up from the table, my experiment is at a crucial stage! I need more milk or everything…” A small puffing noise as well as a little cloud of smoke rises from the vial. Too late. Shit… 

With exasperation, he rises from his chair and walks to John’s bedroom. Without knocking, he opens the door. His friend was on his bed, listening to something with headphones on. “John!” The doctor’s eyes open quickly. “Because of you I’ve lost many hours of work!”

“I am not at your service Sherlock, I have the right to have free time!” But an aura of uneasiness, guilt?, was spreading on his face… His eyes not looking at the detective.

Sherlock, who was on the verge of leaving the room, turns back to look at his friend. “What were you listening to?” He asks with suspicion.

Quickly, the doctor founds a plausible excuse. “… A podfic about how to cure fungus… on toenails.”

“Interesting. I always thought that the idea that fungus can grow on a living human pretty fascinating.”

“Hum… Yes. You’re right.”

Sherlock left and John was able to breathe again! He puts back his headphones quickly.

Not a chance I will tell him that I’m listening to sexy podfics. Over my dead body!

A secret thought (138)

“Seriously John?” Sherlock was looking over his blogger’s shoulder.

Rolling his eyes at the umpteenth interruption, the doctor sighs loudly. “What? Again?"

“You’re going to call this ‘The Case of the Frozen Corpse’?” The detective was ensconced in a thick blanket, clearly suffering from a terrible cold. “You’re always too melodramatic!” Sherlock replies before sneezing in the most adorable way.

How is it possible for someone so annoying to be so damn cute at the same time…? John secretly thoughts. “The body was found in a giant block of ice. It was frozen… Deeply frozen… Frozen-as-ice-frozen…”

“I think John has a point there, brudder mine.” Mycroft intervenes from the sofa in a hoarse voice.

Clearly annoyed, Sherlock turns toward his brother frowning. “Shut up Mycroft! And what are you doing in our flat anyway?”

“I’m sick…” He does look miserable, all puffy and red. “And you’re living with a doctor…”

“You are in charge of the bloody NHS! Find yourself another doctor!”

Using his captain’s voice, John shouts, “Silence! Both of you!”

“But…” Sherlock protests.

“No!” He points at a chair. “Sit and drink your honeyed tea!” As Mycroft snorted, John adds “And you too! …Fucking unbelievable! All day I have to deal with my patient's sniffles and sneezing and complaints, and now I’ve got to deal with both Holmes’ brothers!”

A secret fetish (73)

“You’ve got to eat!” John voice was tired… Tired of saying the same thing!

“I’m not hungry,” Sherlock mutters, “it’s too early anyway. Tea is enough…”

“Come on… anything. A piece of toast, cereal, fruit.” John sighs, defeated. “I’m a doctor and I can't even take care of the health of my flatmate!”

Seeing that John was upset, Sherlock concedes and picks a fruit before going back to his computer. Reading, he starts to peel the banana, slowly, his eyes remaining on the screen. As he didn’t pay attention whatsoever to what he was doing, the fruit stays suspended near his lips… Waiting to be eaten. John, unable to look elsewhere was nearly hypnotized Oh God… I can’t believe I’m being turned on by my friend and a banana!

Sherlock, not realizing how flustered John was slowly becoming, opens his mouth and puts the tip of the fruit in his mouth, keeping it between his luscious lips a bit longer then needed before he presses his teeth delicately to break off a piece. John, unable to resist, releases a soft moan as Sherlock repeats the motion.

“Something wrong John?” Sherlock asks, oblivious.

“Everything is perfect!” The doctor says as he nearly runs to the bathroom to… adjust his trouser. Of all the fucking fruit, he had to pick a bloody banana!

A secret beta (71)

John was writing up the story of their latest adventure in the blog. It was a superb case with false identifies, smugglers, the kidnapping of a duke and an awful lot of running! And Sherlock was magnificent... Brilliant, funny, sexy... God, I must stop this immediately. 

“Time to go to bed!” alone he adds in his head. “I’ll read over everything tomorrow. I don’t know why, but it’s always better after a night of sleep. I am that good!” He laughs. “Goodnight! Don't forget to sleep a few hours...”

Not lifting his eyes from his book, Sherlock replies, “hum... Goodnight John”

Once his friend was upstairs, Sherlock opens his computer and logs into John’s blog as an administrator. He really must change that password! The date of our first case is really too easy. John… always so sentimental!

Quickly, he reads the draft, changing punctuation, verbs… Toning down the admiration that was showing in every sentence. It was the same text, but better… a bit less tacky. Saving the corrections he made before he closes the website, Sherlock was satisfied and not at all feeling guilty.

John never realized that Sherlock worked on his draft. “You can’t deny it Sherlock, it’s perfect!”

Smiling, Sherlock watches his friend, proud of what they accomplished together. Even a talented writer need a good beta...

A professional's secret (33)

John was coming home earlier than originally planned. But something was different... He was instantly on alert!

With his friend you never know what's next! Kidnapping? Gun fights? Harpoon?

Then he hears it... coming from Sherlock’s bedroom. A man with a deep Italian accent...

"Don't move, Mr. Holmes... I really don't want to slit your throat!" The man chuckles.

Instantly on alert, John went back on the landing and moves quickly to the place where his gun was hidden. He walks back to the living room.... The gun’s weight on his hand make him feels better, more in control.

"Tst... Blood... I've told you." The man lets go a theatrical sigh, "I don't like a messy job and I'm certain that you won’t like it either! My colleague warned me about you, I should have tied you to the chair!" A heartfelt laugh fills the room.

"Go on with it... Just don't put blood on my shirt. Is it normal for you to be so chatty? Are you a professional or not?" The detective was taunting the man! Sherlock for once in your life, just shut up! John, gun in hand, barges into the room!

"What? Oh! Hello John!", Sherlock motions a hand in front of him, "Are you in need of a shave or haircut? It's Tony, my new barber."

A secret sleepless night... (1) (92) 

John first finds Sherlock’s coat on the stairs… He walks up, taking the coat with him, then it was a shoe then another one a little bit further.  What the hell… Scarf on the banister, pricey suit jacket carelessly on the landing… I’m not his bloody housekeeper and I will not go to the dry cleaners! His hands full, he opens the door of the flat to find black tailored trousers in a bunch on the carpet. I’ve had enough! He drops the clothes on the floor.

Following the trail (He founds sock number 1, sock number 2, a bespoke shirt…) he stands in front of Sherlock’s bedroom door. Is it a way for him to seduce me? Has he caught on to the clues I left for him?… His hand was on the handle when his phone vibrates.

Tell Sherlock that he was right, we tested the alcohol at the club and it was laced with GHB… Could you please check on him? I think he may have drunk something. GL

He opens the door and the first thing he saw was a pair of black silk pant on the floor. Shit…

“Jawnnnn...” his sexy, uninhibited friend mumbles, “I’m feeling… what’s the word… YESSSSSS!!... Horny…”

John steps out, locking the bedroom door.

You’re a bloody ex-soldier, John H. Watson! He sighs, be brave!

A secret sleepless night... (2) (93)

A ray of light wakes a still groggy detective. My head… What happened yesterday? He grabs his phone with difficulty, his hands still numb. 4 messages...

17:05 You were right, as usual, the barman put something in the drink. GL

17:45 I’ve looked at the CCTV and saw that you had a drink probably laced with GHB! GL

17:50 Sherlock? Talk to me, man. Are you ok. Don’t do anything juicy! GL

17:55 That’s it! I’m talking to John and if John is not there I’m calling Mycroft! 

Sherlock turns quickly to look at the other side of the bed, glad that he was alone… John. Of course he would be delighted to have his friend in his bed… but not like that. Not because I jumped on him and he was too… polite… to say no! Anyway John ‘I’m-not-gay’ Watson would never…

He sits on the edge of the bed looking for his clothes. The only thing he saw was his pants. Shit… He rises, totally naked and… not clean. Arkkkkkkkk, I need a shower!

Later, with clean clothes on, he finally walks into the kitchen. A sleeping doctor was still at the table, surrounded by tea cups and crossword puzzles.

Poor John… the greatest friend a man like me can hope for… The best.

The secret fear (56) 

Looking at the gauze on the doctor's forehead, the bullet barely touched him but head wound always bleed spectacularly, the detective can’t stop panicking.

The scene was playing repeatedly in his head. It had been a close call. John, his friend, his source of light, his family was nearly shot dead by a lousy criminal. Fortunately, the bastard was now in custody.

A few millimeters closer and John…  

Realizing that the detective was woolgathering, the doctor touches his friend's shoulder and talks quietly, his tone a little bit sleepy. “Don’t fuss, Sherlock, It’s not your fault…” Turning on his side, he closes his eyes as the painkillers take him slowly to sleep, he mutters “Please call Greg, tomorrow… my statement… G‘Night ‘Lock”

The detective remains near his friend, looking at him closely… Watching every breath, any sign of pain, grateful for the fact that he was miraculously alive.

Sherlock, now hidden from the doctor’s eyes, wasn’t able to restrain his tears.

How is it possible? It’s part of the job, I shouldn’t be so afraid of losing him…  

I could have lost my partner…  

I could have lost my… My everything!  

When did I become so sentimental? Am I too old for this? I was so scared… Not knowing what to do!  

Sometimes I can’t even remember how to be brave…

Chapter Text

A secret friendship (69)

When John Watson came back from work it was to find Mycroft in his chair.

Sherlock was in front of him, in his black leather chair, a tea pot in the table between them.

Silent.

It was nearly six months now that the doctor and Sherlock have been flatmates. But the uneasiness when Mycroft Holmes was in the flat never left John…

“Hello John, how are you today?” Mycroft asks with a hint of smirk.

“Like you bloody care!” John mutters as he leaves the living room.

Once he was out of the room, Sherlock laughs at his brother. “Myc, don’t be so cold with John! I’m certain that he can be in on the secret…”

“It funnier this way 'Lock, and it’s easier if everyone really thinks that we loathe each other…” Mycroft replies with a warm smile towards his younger brother.

“Yeah, it’s true… it’s definitively funnier.” Sherlock chuckles quietly, not wanting to catch the attention of his friend.

Alone, they start talking again, about little things, the family affairs, their respective work…

Like brothers, like friends.

As soon as John's steps coming down the stairs resonated, they quickly switch back to a blasé attitude… And stop talking altogether.

Looking at the still silent brothers, John only reaction was “Could you for once, both of you, be less British!” 

A secret little something... (65)

"For God sakes! Why do you always run where you shouldn’t?"

John was trying to dress a cut on his friend’s torso. If the git can stop moving! He's worse than a kid!

"He was running to the exit! Someone had to do something…"

This is un-fucking-believable! "THAT IS WHY LESTRADE WAS THERE!"

"You’re always saying the same thing and…"

But John wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes were fixed over something on Sherlock chest. In fact, two little somethings, two little symmetrical puncture marks…

“Sherlock… Your nipple.” Oh My God… It can't be! 

“What? We were in the middle of an argument!” The detective raises his shoulders. “The nearest cop was meeeeeters away! I was the only one near enough to be able…”

But John didn’t want to let go. “Did you get… had… used to… have… piercings?"

“HOW this is relevant to the present discussion!”

“But… why? When? For… whom?” A piercing is so personal, somewhat sexual… John was unable to connect the dots between a bloody piercing and the rational detective.

“John, really… don’t tell me it’s the first time you’re seeing a man with the vestige of one… or few piercings. You’re a doctor!” As the wound was correctly covered, Sherlock went towards the bathroom.

“You’ve got… more than one?” John said a little turned-on but mainly bewildered! 

Daydreaming in secret (157)

Sherlock was scrutinizing the results of the petri dishes in front of him. He was stunning… as always. The beauty of the man wasn’t lost on the doctor who was looking discreetly at his friend with hooded eyes.

I wonder if I could get him away from his work. He smiles, covering himself slightly with the quilt. He imagines it clearly in his head.  

I get up, walking slowly till I’m behind him, place my hands on his shoulders… before going down his torso… Caressing slowly, putting little kisses on his neck… He turns his head with a questioning gaze, hands still on his equipment so I take the opportunity to kiss his lips, pressing my hands in his hair… The kisses will become deeper as he responds with enthusiasm. But the git won’t let go of the bloody pipette in his hand! So… I have no choice but to turn his chair away from the table… His eyes are open wide now, as he’s watching me with eagerness, he finally – finally! – let go of his instrument to concentrate only on me. ME, John H. Watson! With a knowing smile, I will fall on my knees in front of him and…

“John?”

The doctor wakes up quickly of his daydreaming. Shit.  “Ye.. yes?”

“Are you fine? You seem out of breath.”

A secret burst of jealousy (99)

John was looking at Sherlock's sleeping form, who was still completely stoned by the sedative that Irene Adler gave him few hours before.

He wasn’t pleased that the detective was currently lost to the world… but he gives him time to think.

About his reaction when he saw Sherlock talking with a naked beautiful woman; His own uneasiness in front of the woman when he should have, at least as a doctor, be over that!; Her teasing ‘Somebody loves you, why if I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.’

Am I in love with Sherlock? Is it possible? But… I’m not gay! I don’t understand!

He thought about his time in the army, about a few alcohol induced experiences. Being honest for once, he admitted for the first time. 

I am bi… But what about him? I saw him standing in those damn snug trousers and he wasn’t… responding… to Adler’s nakedness. But he did catch her measurements… But it’s only observation and mathematics for him, no? Is he able to… love in a romantic way? Man or woman? Either Adler or… Moriarty? No! He can't fall for that criminal! He’s better than that! But can he love… me?

Jealousy was spreading in John, like a poison.

He left the room suddenly unable to breathe...

A secret bait (88)

They were at the kitchen table when Sherlock's phone made another profound, filthy, sexy, characteristic orgasmic sound. John turns his gaze toward his friend and flat mate with a mostly curious (and a little bit ‘I can’t believe what I heard’) look.

“Why does your phone make that noise?”

Oh! Oh! Oh! Maybe I could get John to moan for me! Not FOR me, but for ME… Arggggg this is The Woman's fault! I never thought of things like that before… But the idea of my John wasting his sexy voice on an inane girlfriend when I am there!

“What noise?” He asks, wanting John to recreate the suggestive and stimulating sound. The unaffected voice of Sherlock was perfectly fake but inside he was breathless!

“That noise… the one it just made.”

Oh no… He didn’t take the bait! I wanted to hear him do it, damn! Why does he looks at me like that? Oh right, I need to reply!

“It’s a text alert. It means I’ve got a text.”

Yeah, good call genius! I am doomed!

“Hmm. Your texts don’t usually make… that noise.”

Sherlock was still trying to find another way to get John to do it but Mycroft came back in the kitchen, the opportunity was now gone.

But something inside Sherlock's heart and mind start blossoming…

Reading in secret (164)

“What the hell are you reading?” the doctor was laughing as he enters the living room, happy for his unexpected short shift at the clinic, as his eyes fall on his friend surrounded by Marie-Claire and Cosmopolitan.

Sherlock, who was indeed sitting in a pile of what can only be called women’s magazines, raises his head. Shit. Quick!  “Research. Lot of it.” Personal research. “A case. Obviously.” He quickly stacks the glossy magazines neatly under his chair before rising from the floor in front of the fireplace and flees to his bedroom.

Weird. John thoughts. Weirder than usual more precisely. Walking quietly near the leather chair, he uses his toes to spread the magazines all over the floor again. Oooops!, glimpsing at the headlines.   

How to know if you’re ready for real love?

Afraid to lose friends because of a new found love interest?

Quiz! 15 questions to know if it’s everlasting love!

Falling in love for the first time?

The do's and don’ts of a good relationship!

Fuck. It’s real. Suddenly pale, John replaces the magazines to their place before falling on his chair, ashamed. Then thinks to himself, he’s really in love with that woman. Irene Adler! How could he do that to ME?  Unaware that Sherlock, every time John goes on a date, suffers through the same blues.

A secret door (105) 

John was in his pajama in front of a locked door! Again!  Fuck! He runs back to his bedroom to get the key and finally accessed the kitchen for his morning tea.  Last week the messenger guy saw me in my pants for God sakes!

The doctor was still frustrated when Sherlock was getting out of his perfectly located bedroom!  But I must admit, I prefer to be a little bit away of what’s going on in this kitchen!

“Tea… It needs more sugar. What’s wrong with you?” His flatmate mutters.

He points at the door.  “That’s my problem!”

Sherlock frowns. “This is a perfectly functioning door… Nothing wrong with it.”

“It’s working! THAT’s the problem! I’ve been once more shut down outside the flat this morning…” Maybe we can put one of those keypad things?

Rising his shoulders, Sherlock said “Use the back stairs then.” He took a key on the mantle and opened a secret door in the corner of the living room, masked by the continuity of the wallpaper. “It was the servant stairs, Ms. Hudson suggested a few months ago that she could have your room refit to include access to the stairs if needed.”

“And I’m learning this now??” John looks incredulously at the stairs.

“I must have deleted it. Didn’t think you were that… bashful."

A secret tactic (aka The mother of all prank!) (172)

Mycroft storms into 221b. “Sherlock!” The detective raises his head slowly over his microscope, a light smirk adorning his lips. “You are going to tell the hackers of your so-called ‘network’... to stop!”

Changing his devious smile for the most adorable/innocent/guilt-free expression, Sherlock protests, “What are you talking about?”

“Sherlock… What have you done?” John chuckles.

“John! I’ve done nothing wrong, believe me!” The stress on the ‘I’ wasn’t lost to either of the two men.

“And give me the names of YOUR… people! It’s unconceivable that MY people can’t stop… this!” Bloody-fucking-unbelievable! As he was getting angrier, his phone starts ringing. With a growl he unsuccessfully tries to shut it down… “SHERLOCK! This is not funny! I was in a meeting with the PM this morning when… FUCK!!” He smashes the expensive gadget on the wall but it keeps going.

“Is this…” John eyes light up as he recognizes the song before he starts to laughs earnestly. “Oh. My. God. Sherlock, I love you!”

Sherlock, proud of his prank, was looking at his brother without realizing what John just said.

“Now it’s not the time, Doctor Watson!” Mycroft fumes. “Sherlock! Do something!”

“You’re taking care of Mommy 75^th birthday extravaganza.”

“Yes!”

With a click on his phone, Rihanna’s song, ‘Umbrella’ stopped, replaced by Mycroft's usual neutral buzz.

A secret good fortune (175)

John was looking at the pile of mail on his friend's side of the desk. “You need to check your mail once every other month, you know!”

“I’ve got more important things to do…” The detective mutters while working at the kitchen table.

The doctor shakes his head and rattles an envelope. “It’s your bank!”

“Probably an ad for something trivial like a mortgage or life insurance. Open it if you are so stressed out!”

“I’m not your secretary…” John says, opening the letter anyway. “It’s simply your account statement, you see, it wasn’t that… FUCK!” His friend, eyes on his experiment, simply hums questionably. “You bastard, you are filthy rich!” The doctor was looking at the dividends his friend received every month as well as the total amount of his… what can only called a small fortune.

“Money, boring. Grand-mother's inheritance and something else that I don’t understand. Mycroft taking care of it…” At his friend's astonished silence, Sherlock finally raises his head. “I don’t know why you are so surprised. You know I’m not getting paid by the Met, I am not living off of thin air you know…”

“But why a flatshare then?”

“It was Mrs. Hudson's condition… Something about needing to be around humans…”

Smiling, John thought once more that Mrs. Hudson deserved a really good bottle!

A secret good fortune (Part 2) (176) 

John was still confused “But…” 

Sherlock sighs. “Whaaaaat?”

“You let me pay half of the rent, even when I was struggling for money, you usually swiped Mycroft's card when we go shopping even if it’s drives me crazy…”

“Never understand why!” The detective smirks.

Rolling his eyes, John replies “Because your brother doesn’t have to pay for my milk, dishwashing soap or toiletries!” Looking at the statement, John shakes his head. “Don’t understand…”

Turning to look at his bubbling experiment, Sherlock mutters, “Because of you...”

The doctor's impatience was rising. “How could it be MY fault?”

Sherlock protests without turning his gaze “I didn’t want you to go, that’s all...”

“Why would I have left the flat if I had learned that you’ve got money?” This is crazy!

“You’re proud. This is a quality that I admire but it can cause misunderstandings. Like feeling that you don’t contribute enough or…”

“So… you lied to me to protect my… feelings.”

“If you want to be annoyingly precise about it, yes.”

“You know you are crazy and that usually people tend to stay around people with money.” Especially when they look like a Greek God! But that is not the point!

“But you are not most people, you are my  John.”

Finally giving up the discussion, John smiles fondly. Highly functioning sociopath, bollocks!

A secret chef! (53)

"SHERLOCK!"

The detective, who was deep in his Mind Palace, looking exhausted, snaps out of it, a little bit confused by John screaming.

“…What?”

“Is that BLOOD?” The doctor was pointing in direction of the kitchen. The table, the sink, the cabinet all sprinkled with red.

Sherlock looks at his flat mate who was still standing in the door way. “Errrr… No?”

“That's not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question!” John rolls his eyes. “I am going for a walk, clean this up!” He then walks down the stairs where he meets their landlady.

“Oh John, how are you today?” Ms. Hudson wasn’t looking well herself, with a runny nose and feverish eyes.

“I’m ok, just add a little argument with Sherlock… nothing unusual.” He smiles, hoping that the detective was currently cleaning the bloody mess he made everywhere in the kitchen. “But you are not looking well, Ms. Hudson. Did you catch a bad cold?”

“Yes, but it’s better than it was yesterday… Sherlock has been so helpful today, he went to the library for me, to the drugstore… and he even cooked for me!”

 John suddenly feels bad. It’s only a tomato sauce… The git was doing that for Ms. Hudson!

“Did you know our Sherlock is a great cook? It was a really killer Bolognese.”

A secret Triumph (117) 

“Sherlock…?” John waited for Sherlock’s head to rise from his microscope “It may be a little bit late to ask but… Do we have any insurance? For our stuff? The flat? Liabilities… you know. Insurance?”

Muttering something about how it was hard to concentrate when being constantly interrupted by stupid questions, the detective turns back to his work.

“This is not stupid! If we have an explosion, if a client stumbles on the stairs, if you start another kitchen fire…”

Exasperated, Sherlock opens his phone. A minute later John's phone pinged.  

Please find enclosed all the insurance paperwork. Do not hesitate to contact the broker if you have any questions. MH

“You two… I don’t know why, but I’m not that surprised!” He opens the file on his computer and starts to read everything. It was a very posh insurance company, something that mere mortal like him shouldn’t have, but his name was there also. It was a little bit strange to read in black and white that he was the sole benefactor of Sherlock's life insurance… but that wasn’t what catches his attention. “Sherlock… ?”

On the defensive, the detective mutters, “Ms. Hudson is the only one who knows. I put it in her garage.”

The image of a leather clad Sherlock pops into John’s mind! “You own a damn bike!”

A secret talent! (76)

“What’s wrong!” Greg asks, breathless. “Where’s John?” 

“I don’t know! The door is locked and… the noise! It’s terrifying!” As Ms. Hudson looks up the stairs, a bang followed by a metallic sound resonate. “John is in a conference for the week, Sherlock has been restless since he’s gone…”

“What the Hell…” Greg mutters as he goes up the stairs. Not wanting to warn anyone that may have nefarious intentions, he took the key and swiftly opens the door.

“Oh. My. God!” The key falls from Greg’s hand at the sight that was in front of him.

It was Sherlock with a… sword! Smiling, panting, his curly dark hair plastered by sweat… He was breathtaking! Oh my… John is missing something… He was getting his phone to take some pictures when someone charges on the detective. It was Mycroft bloody magnificent and sexy Holmes.

The fight went on for five minutes, it was spectacular to watch, before Mycroft realizes that the door was open and that Greg was staring at him. “Sherlock, stop!”

“What?” He turns towards the door. “Hello Geof! Is it for a case?”

“You are fighting. With swords. In your flat.”

Mycroft and Sherlock both look at Greg with a isn’t it obvious glare.

“Yes…” Sherlock pouts. “The club doesn't allow fights if the swords are not blunted!”

A beautiful secret (John POV) (28)

I must admit that I’m spending too much time simply watching Sherlock sleep.

At first, it was only for the mere convenience of knowing if he was in his Mind Palace or actually sleeping… A way of checking if he was getting all the rest he does need, even if he denies it!

My gaze was simply falling on him as soon as his eyes closed… Waiting… Looking for the end of REM movements under his eyelids to confirm that he was actually in peace enough for his Mind to shut down. The doctor in me was then simply satisfied that he was finally resting.

Then, without even fully realized it, I began to anticipate those moments… To actually let him fall asleep on the sofa instead of encouraging him to go to bed. Just because I want to be able to watch him... as if I had the right to.

Woolgathering while counting the dark silk curls of his hair or his long eyelashes. Observing his hands, always so mobile and graceful when awake, but remaining elegant even in their stillness. The marble of his skin, the delightful fullness of his lips…

He must never know how I look at him when he’s so vulnerable. How I admire his transport as well as his glorious Mind.

Both incomparable and… beautiful.

A secret inspiration (123)

“Oh. My. God!” John was listening to music when he catches something crazy. “Sherlock, come here!!”

Rising from the kitchen table with difficulty, he’s been in the same position for hours, he walks near John’s desk. “What? I’m busy and…” 

“Sit down… You’re ready?” The doctor was grinning like an idiot!

“Yes, but… what is it? Is it a clue for a case? Your latest attempt to change your voice mail message to something funny?” He smiles with fondness.

“No… no… just wait. Here you go!” A catchy tune starts to resonate in the flat.

Frowning, Sherlock protests “I don’t see the point… You know that modern music is not my forte…”

“Wait!... Just there!”  

Suddenly Sherlock hears it. “Stop! Stop! Stop! Go back… WHAT! Really?” He looks at his friend with a mix of incredulity and smugness. John taps the keyboard and there it is again, the detective’s name… in a song!  

And it don't take no Sherlock Holmes 

To see it's a little different around here 

My name, in a song… “This is so weird… Who’s this?” The detective asks, suddenly interested in the music. 

“It’s Arctic Monkeys!” John wasn’t able to stop laughing. “You are a cultural reference! Unbelievable!” 

“Is it legal? It’s my name after all…” Then he quickly types out a text to Mycroft to boast.

The Skull's secret (Sherlock POV) (14) 

A look confirms that Billy was in his proper place. Not lonely then, but alone in the flat.

The gates of his Mind Palace open to one of his fondest memories... His teacher was presenting the human bones using an old real skeleton. While most of the students were horrified, Sherlock was mesmerized. He learns everything, staying after class, William 'Billy' Baldwin, recognizing the will to learn and understand, was eager to help him.

One day, he shows him an article about a man who left his skull at the Royal Shakespeare Company to be used in Hamlet... The idea that the Mind 'container' can have a life of its own after the death was fascinating for Sherlock.

Their friendship was stronger than a regular student-teacher relationship. For years they kept in contact. After he left for university... things changed. The drugs, his restless mind, the constant bullying... He shuts himself away voluntarily, especially from those he loves most.

A few years later, as he was struggling to stay clean, he received a box containing a skull and a note written in his former professor's classic hand. A note that helps him to take his life in hand.

"Protect your Mind, dear young friend, as it is bright and precious. Keep me with you and you'll never be alone. Love, Billy"

A Secret in Purple (John POV) (15)

221b is a mess! It's true for the main room, with the books, the papers, the experiments, the desks full of stuff... Sherlock would tell you that the chaos is organized in his head, but that doesn't help me find the last utility bill!

On one thing only Sherlock is particularly orderly: his clothes. Because of 'drugs busts', his socks index is now legendary at NSY! But it's not only for the socks... Not wanting to lose any time when he gets dressed, each suit or shirt that comes from the cleaner goes to the end of the line... until next time. For rotation, you know? When a shirt or suit is beyond repair or stained beyond cleaning, an occupational hazard for them, another identical one takes its place. Everything simply color coordinated.

That's all, no fuss.

"How to look like a bloody model without giving a fuck" by Sherlock Holmes

The only problem to this system? The purple! I don't know why but I loooooooove that shirt. First, I start to sneakily advance it in line, to double its appearance. But one day, I realize that it was becoming harder to get the drycleaner to correct tears and such. So... I purchased another copy of the 200£ D&G shirt. Sad, I know.

Why do I love the purple?

Because  ;-)

A Secret in Purple (2) (16)

Sherlock was spread on the sofa when John came back from work.

“Sherlock! You spent the whole day on the sofa in your pajama!”

“Boooooooooored.”

“Do something… I’m probably going out tonight, so I won’t be there to keep you entertained!”

Following his friend without fully opening his eyes, the detective realizes that the doctor was really getting ready for his possible date. And, even if he does not fully understand why, it was bugging him! Immensely. What should I do? I don’t know! It’s infuriating! Ha! I know!

As soon as John closes the bathroom door, Sherlock runs to his bedroom! Removing his dressing gown and pajamas he quickly grabs his traditional black well fitting trousers and… looking to his shirts with a smirk, he chooses the perfect one. Leaving out the jacket, he’s not planning to go out anyway, he rolls his sleeves in an uncustomary way. Rushing back to the living room, he sits in his chair, a book and a false tranquil look on his face. Perfect.

Now outside of the bathroom John, phone in hand, was ready to call his date to confirm where they... and… Purple. Arms. Fuck.  

Leaving his phone on the kitchen table, he walks to his chair and sits in front of Sherlock.

“You are not going out?”

“Not anymore… no.”

Bingo!

A secret dream (54)

Sherlock was alone, John still asleep. Using his friend's laptop, as it was closer, he promptly opens the machine to access the Internet. But, as usual, he wasn't able to resist snooping around and discovers a well-hidden file. 

He realizes quickly that it was a dreams log... scanning it rapidly, because it was certainly 'really not good' to do so, he quickly becomes gobsmacked!

In my dream, we are coming back from a case... Realizing that I am looking at his lips intently, he pulls me toward him and kisses me. I mutter the only coherent thought possible "Finally!" He laughs, pinning me to the wall. I quiver under his kisses as he explores my neck, my face; one of his hands is restraining me... His other hand finds a way under my jumper to get access to my torso, my nipples, my scar... My body arches automatically as his leg is grinding slowly between mine. I grunt appreciatively, unable to talk. His lips find mine again, opening them to play with my tongue languidly, leaving me dizzy, shivering... His hand resolutely descends to find the button of my trousers where... 

"Sherlock? Are you using my computer again?"

Slightly panicking, a flustered detective drops his tea (accidently, of course!) on the keyboard, thankfully shutting it down and turning the screen black.

A Japanese secret (24) 

An afternoon with the cable guy. How mundane. The man, of course vetted by Mycroft's staff, was coming to rewire with... better cables?

After the lounge, he went in Sherlock's bedroom. "Sir, excuse me to be indiscreet, but... is this your room?" The young man was looking at John with amazement and respect. What the hell?

"No, it's my flat mate's, why?" 

Deception appears on the man face. "I'll go back to my work then, thank you..."

Half an hour later, the job was done when Sherlock enters the flat. "It was good old-fashioned strychnine, John!". Looking at the man who was now respectfully bowing his head, Sherlock asks, "Who's that?"

John replies "Cable guy. He asked about you..."

Looking at the man pose and the ID tag, Sherlock understands right away. "What level are you?

"Shodan, Shihan Holmes... Please do me the honor..."

"No. Sorry I don't." And he closes the door of the flat.

"Sherlock? What was that?"

"Nothing, flashback from a trip in Japan."

He went in his bedroom and closed the door, looking over his bed at the japanese certificate he received at the Kodokan Judo Institute. He often uses judo for protection, but he doesn’t like to talk about it. The sejour at the school was a really personal achievement.

Now, where is my black belt?

A secret kink! (82)

“Well, that was tedious!”

“You went on the Tube like that?!” A curious John inquires.

“None of the cabs would take me!” He was clearly disgusted by the lack of professionalism of London cabbies. “I hate the Tube! It was full of… people! The smells, the stories I’m able to read on each and every one…!”

“Hum, must be…” The doctor turns back to his tea as Sherlock continues.

“… At least the harpoon scared the people and I was able to get out of the teeming car without touching anyone!”

“Yeah, that’s nice…” John was clearly not giving all the attention that Sherlock wanted!

“JOHN!”

“Hum… Yeah. Don’t get blood everywhere, hmm?” And the doctor went back to reading his newspaper when a thought popped in his head… Bloody sexy and he chuckles…

“WHAT?” Sherlock asks nonplussed, “What’s so funny?”

John turns to look again at his friend. He was magnificent… His eyes sparkling against the vivid blood that covered his face. This is absurd! The life we live… My life… I’m finding my flatmate that is currently covered in blood… utterly sexy. I need to go back to Ella for a good talk. He smiles enigmatically.

Looking at John like he was the mad one, Sherlock strides to the bathroom, harpoon still in hand. “I’m going to have a bath!”

A secret admirer (110)

John and Sherlock were reading by the fireside, when something strange arrived from a delivery man.

“What is it?” Sherlock grumbles, his eyes not leaving his book…

“That’s weird, it’s… flowers.” John was holding a big expensive looking, tasteful bouquet. Romantic yet clearly masculine.

Sarcastically, Sherlock deduces “Your last conquest wants to step up her game!” What’s her name… I didn’t know he started to date again?

“You know perfectly well that I haven't dated anyone for months…” John protests, opening the card. “Oh….” He closes the card, looking dismayed.

“What?” The detective was watching his friend with attention.

“It’s… for you.” John slowly extends his hand so Sherlock could read.

“Is it a client? A check is better… Oh…. 'Sherlock, I hope to see you again soon. Bises. Christian'  That’s weird.” Sherlock quickly dismissed the bouquet as a joke or an error.

“Hum… Who’s that? And… Bises?” John demands casually.

“It’s French for kisses… I think I know a Christian... But…” But maybe it’s something nefarious from an enemy!  “DON’T TOUCH IT!” He runs to the kitchen to fetch a big police grade plastic bag. “I’m going to Bart's right away! Have to check it for poison!”

John was left alone in the middle of the living room, resentful towards an unknown French man who sent his friend fucking ‘bises’!

A secret desire (165)

Sherlock was trying to read but he was unable to concentrate. Because of John.

He wasn’t working on a case, but he wasn’t bored. Because of John.

Watching everything that he does, as discreetly as possible, was a full time occupation. Cataloguing everything. Each word he uttered, each move, each passage of his bloody tongue on his lips. He needs to get a lipbalm or I’m going to scream!

It was slowly driving Sherlock crazy. Closing his eyes, he repeats in his head: I am not kissing him, he’s my best friend. But the mantra wasn’t effective at all! His therapist, a woman usually unusually good at her job, repeatedly explained to Sherlock that he needs to talk about his feelings… Rubbish. As if risking the loss of John Watson friendship was an option! I prefer to be constantly frustrated! It’s only transport… I can do it! After a deep sigh, he reopens his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” John looks at his friend with a questioning frown... then he did IT again. He. Licks. His. Lips. Again.

Unable to resist, Sherlock jumps from his chair and, placing his hand on John’s neck, kisses the doctor thoroughly for several minutes before backing up, stunned.

Leaving a speechless and aroused John, Sherlock makes a beeline to the bathroom muttering, “sorry, bad case of basorexia.” 

Secret thoughts (202)

Days later, they were still silent about ‘it’... THE kiss... And it was driving John mad! He kissed me… How is it possible for him, us, to not talk about this! Maybe it was only an experiment for him and I’m going to find a graph somewhere measuring  how long I stayed gobsmacked,  or my gaze lingered o n his lips, or touching mine, or… God, please tell me it wasn’t a bloody experiment!

On the other side of the room, Sherlock was obviously trying not to look at John… and was failing miserably. He clearly wants to talk about it! I know, he’s going to talk about personal space, about how he’s flattered but not interested. I shouldn’t have done that! What’s wrong with me? If only it was possible to forget! No… for John to forget this, I want to keep it. Forever in my Mind Palace. Just for me, the memory of my first kiss given out of love. As a soft warmth was spreading in his heart, the door opens brusquely to a disheveled Lestrade.

“We found a corpse in a middle of Bond Street… and his fingerprints correspond to a man who died nearly 30 years ago.”

“That's all?” A blasé Sherlock asks.

“The body is clearly under 20-years old…”

Sherlock jumps from his chair “Brilliant!”

A secret visitor (52)

With a flourish, he opens the flat door. "Voilà! You can come in Moran... Don't worry we have plennnnty of time." Moriarty was well aware that Sherlock and John were in Dartmoor for a case and that the landlady was also away.

He was now walking in the flat, looking and touching everything. It was driving Seb crazy!

"Boss, is it wise to put your fingerprints everywhere? I know that you're not in any database, but Holmes is not an idiot."

Not listening to his lieutenant at all, Moriarty continues his tour slowly. He takes photos of the music sheets, of the books... I must get those. He opens the fridge and smile at is content. He must do something with that kidney or it's going to go off. 

In the bathroom, he jumps in the bath and look around... Imagining the life of the occupants of the flat. The intimacy that ordinary Doctor has the honour to share with his Sherlock was irritating him the most!

Seeing Sherlock in night clothes, unshaved, fresh from the shower, when he's in his Mind Palace... Life's not fair.

He went to the bedroom afterwards, and spent an hour simply relaxing on the detective's bed. He opens his eyes suddenly.

"Let's play, now. We have something to put in the flat in the basement."

A secret conversation (44) 

"I have had enough! Why are you so gloomy all the time since Baskerville?" John was watching his friend directly in his eyes, fed up with Sherlock's attitude over the last few days. I am the one who should be really angry... With the cruel trick he played on me!

Sherlock fakes his best questioning face "I don't know what you mean, John. What are you talking about? I am exactly as I was before the case..."

Grabbing his coat, he was on his way to work; the doctor replies "I'll bring some take-away for dinner tonight... And don't think this conversation is over!"

Once the door was closed, the detective closes his eyes... tears pearling quickly on his lashes.

He tries to get a grip on his emotions, but the discussion between John and Lestrade, in front of the inn, is constantly playing in his head.  Lestrade mocking tone ”I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his ... his ..." John's smug reply...  "Asperger's?"

How can a brilliant and good man like him can possibly fall in love with someone like me? It's over... It won't ever happen now that John sees me for what I am and clearly finds it funny. 

The heartache was so intense, so hurtful, he had to remind himself to breathe.

A burning secret (36) 

I'll burn the heart out of you...

Months later, Moriarty's threat was still spinning in the detective's head.

He was sitting alone on the sofa, looking at John under his lashes, as the doctor was sitting at his computer checking their emails.

My life has changed so much in the last months. Before, being alone was… satisfactory. That first night when he said that he was ‘married to his work’, it was true. At the time anyway, but now...

Carefully, his eyes follow the nape of John neck, the movements of his hands on the computer, the way he always – ALWAYS – licks his lips… How is it possible that he does not know how sexy this is? Or maybe he does… A warmth spread around his body at the idea that maybe, maybe, his friend is having similar thoughts.

But it’s stupid. First I am a man and I am a disagreeable one… A freak… 

Not wanting John to realize his state of mind, he rises and leaves to go to the kitchen table. A nice complicated experiment, that’s what I need right now... Not sentiment! Sentiment is a defect… He stops before ending the catchy phrase. Oh God, even I do not believe that anymore!

Moriarty is terribly wrong… There’s nothing left of me but ashes. I am already burned.

The secret armour (34) 

Sherlock is often bored to death. John and his friends know about it. How he sulks on the sofa; how he shoots the wall; how he craves cigarettes or... other things. Have they ever realized the extent of it and how it's so much more visceral? Probably not as they usually laugh about it and consider it trivial while talking to him as if he were a child having a tantrum in a candy store!

But, sometimes it is something else. Something worse...That nobody knows, except maybe Mycroft.

It's like if the weight of everything was too much... The obligation of solving the unsolvable, the lives that must be saved, the missing that must be found. Why does it all have to rest on his shoulders? The feeling is overwhelming...

These days, even the idea of leaving 221b is impossible. But he needs to, he needs to go on. For John. For Lestrade. And for saving his own life, as without The Work, he is nothing.

Nothing of value to himself... as well as the others.

So, like a knight in shining armour, he wraps himself in his coat and his scarf, walks down the stairs and steps outside the flat to reach the world.

Outside the brick and mortar palace that 221b is.

Alone.

A man and his Belstaff.

Secrets tears (74)

"Sherlock! What's in the fridge?” John was looking for something edible but all he finds is body parts and petri dishes. “How come you didn't die of poisoning when you were living alone?”

An exasperated Sherlock shouts from his desk. "I was doing just fine before you walked into my life!"

"Were you, Sherlock? Really?" John asks a challenging frown on his face while he puts dishes in the sink with a few capfuls of bleach.

Sherlock closes his eyes to a vision of his life before John.

Of not caring about things like the lack of milk or dirty dishes. No one fussing about how many hours of sleep he had, about when was the last time he ate...  No one caring if he's alive or dying while shooting himself into complete oblivion out of boredom.

A vision of coldness, of solitude... It was terrifying. But he lies, of course he lies.

“Yes. I was.” And I will be the day you’ve gone decided that you’ve had enough or when you find the perfect insipid woman. 

Hiding how the statement hurt him, John replies with an incredulous look, “liar…” before going up to his bedroom.

“Caring is not an advantage…” Sherlock murmurs to convince himself, unable to stop the tears.

It’s John fault… he disinfects with way too much bleach.

A secret emotion (60)

Sherlock was furious. “Moriarty is playing with your mind too. Can’t you see what’s going on John?!”

“No, I know you’re for real.” John says forcibly.

The detective can’t resist and asks a challenging “One hundred percent?”

“Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time.” John leaves the living room.

With a smile, Sherlock thought about how unlikely it was that everyone would react like John.

He knows for sure that Anderson, Donovan and others will jump on the occasion to discredit him… The insults he received since working with NYS flow around him: Freak, psychopath… He tried to have a professional relationship with them… I did! I was so anxious to work with experts! But it didn’t take long before it turned sour.  And it won’t be long before they all turn against me… Lestrade, (he sighs) Lestrade will take longer but he’s a rational sort of man, he won’t be able to stop the avalanche when everything will be stacked against me. He’s going to doubt me like everyone else and hate himself for it…

Sherlock was thinking, searching in his Mind Palace, not knowing what to call the unknown feeling caused by the mere idea of Lestrade doubting him...

I don’t know what that emotion is, is this how it feels to be betrayed?

A secret incitative... (46)

Something that John Watson will never know is that Sherlock had serious doubts right before… The Fall.

The plan seemed flawless and everything was in place if a false suicide became the only viable option.

Leaving his life, leaving the comfort of his London for the unknown, leaving his reputation in tatters… It was bad but not cringe worthy.

But… leaving John when he felt that with a little nudge they may become something else.

Something more.

Something bigger.

That argument in the lab was the last push that he needed. Not being called a machine, he'd heard worse, even if it stings coming from John… but the ‘friends protect people’.

Alone protects me… No. Friends protect people.

Because if it’s true, if friends protect people then… one must do anything to protect a friend. Especially when that friend is as good and dear as Doctor John H. Watson.

Sherlock knows that John didn’t mean it that way and will feel guilty if he ever understood.

So he will never tell him about it, how that little phrase was the last prod he needed before heading to the roof. Finally knowing for certain that he was doing what he needed to do to shield his best friend from harm.

To keep him safe and sound and most important of all… breathing.

Chapter Text

The secret box (17)

One thing's for sure, if Sherlock loves when his work is praised, he doesn’t like all the sentimentality that comes when certain cases are closed. Official thank-you speeches, gifts of all sorts, kisses from ecstatic mothers… And diamond cufflinks or tie pins!

But John knows that his friend may someday need a reminder of all the good he did. This is why, shortly after he meets the genius, John starts to discreetly collect every letter, article, email or gift that were all discarded without a second glimpse by the moody detective.

The last weeks have not been easy, and John often thought about giving the box to his friend. To help the detective understand that, even if everyone seems against him… A little chest full of mementos is the proof that no, he is not a fraud, that he helped people! Again, and again and again…

 But it is too late now to help his friend fight that oppressive feeling.

John was now sitting at the kitchen table, the box opened in front of him. Full of life, fangirls' declarations, drawings from children, scarves with his name patiently monogramed on it by old ladies, stuffed animals, articles from the paper, printed out emails, few telegrams, letters, so much letters…

The brilliant madman will never know what he was…inside that box.

A secret visit (18)

Sherlock was with his brother in 221b, a car waiting discreetly to take him to the airport.

His funeral(!) was coming to an end. Only a few minutes before John and Mrs. Hudson would be on their way back home.

Surveying the flat for possibly the last time, the (dead)detective was looking for a small token, a talisman he could took with him. Sentiment... urgh... But he wasn't able to resist.

Jumper? Too big and obvious. Army mug? Too fragile. Dog tags? He can't take that memento from John.

What else? He went up to John's bedroom and sat on the bed. Then he sees it! A tube of hair product... he opens it and the smell brings John in front of him instantly. A flashback to Bart's when his friend protested that Jim-from-IT wasn't gay because "I put product in my hair!" A small sad smile appears on Sherlock's face. He puts a infinitesimally small amount of the product on a finger then applied it to his hair. Mixing his high end products with John's generic gel. The mix calms him and he dashes to get out of the flat.

The small tube lasts years and, even after he was captured in Serbia, the perfume lingers for weeks giving him comfort.

John surrounding him, like a protection against brutality...

A secret apology... (59)

Mycroft was near the window, looking at the people walking on Baker Street.

“Life seems so simple for them…” he mutters, lost in his thoughts for a moment, he finally speaks again, still not turning toward the rest of the room. Nearly a whisper…

“I want to say… I need to say… That I am sorry brother mine. I shouldn’t have used you like a bargaining chip with Moriarty… I should have known that he would come after you even more fiercely.” And you don’t know half of it, he adds to himself thinking about Sherringford.

“His obsession was clearly showing while in custody, the way he talked, your name on the wall of his cells… He manipulated us like puppets.”

His secret confession was interrupted by Sherlock who entered the room.

“Don’t look so gloomy Mycroft, you’re not the one who’s going undercover for who knows how long…”

“Have you found your little memento, Sherlock?”

The detective puts his hand on his pocket where he squeezes the tube of hair product. John’s… “Yes, I have. Let’s go before they return from the funeral.”

“Do you want few minutes alone in your flat… a moment?”

“No, it’s fine… If everything goes well, I should be back soon enough.”

Despite Sherlock's small smile, Mycroft was overwhelmed by a rare feeling of bitterness…

The violin's secret (30)

The violin was filling every room and nook of 221b, simply beautiful...

Sometimes it was light and elegant. At other moments youthful and happy, usually for John's benefit!

Some days the sound was slow and... careful. The instrument transposing the doubts and inner troubles of his owner.

But there's also the pieces that Sherlock composed especially for him... long and calming lullabies to help him when he's having nightmares...

The doctor now often cries when he hears those pieces... But nothing was worse than when the strings produce a raw and nearly painful sounds as if the exhaustion or restlessness of Sherlock mind was flowing thru his fingers.

Not able to listen to his friend anymore, John walks to the living room and removes his phone that was connected to the sound system, stopping the violin in the middle of a piece.

Looking at the phone now in his hand, the ex-military man was once more grateful to at least have those recordings. Sherlock wasn't aware that John was sneakily recording him, or was he?... and now this is all he has.

With a deep sigh, a resigned John plugs in the phone and starts the music again... A concerto wonderfully executed chases away his sorrows temporarily.

A small smile on his lips, John listens to one of Sherlock's favourite, Bartok.

A secret impossible hope (John POV) (140)

It’s the first Christmas, you know.

The first after your suici… disappearance.

I am alone in 221b, as always. Not, that’s not right... I am alone as I wished to be.

Ms. Hudson left for her sister’s place yesterday, I’ve told her that I was going to Harry's, which was a lie.

I wanted to be alone with my thoughts… alone with you.

Some Christmas show on the telly is playing in the background. It’s weird, I don’t have to fight for the right to watch the Doctor Who Special but I’m not interested…

Your scarf and great coat are still on the hook near the door where I put them when the police gave me back your things. Your blood still on them… I asked Molly to analyze it few months ago, we all do silly things she said with a sad smile. 

Of course it was yours, as if you’d be amateur enough to use random blood.

I was starting to give up on you, you know… It’s been nearly a year, how could you leave me in the dark for months?

But yesterday, I received a Christmas card with only one word in it and suddenly I’m able to wait a little longer, pushing away the temptation of following you into the silence.

Only one small word.

Believe.

Secret(s) location(s) (149)

Italic: Irene
Non-italic: Sherlock

As midnight chimes, she enters a secure text app.  

Merry Christmas my darling friend xox

The response was quick.

How did you get that number, you minx? And what are you ranting about.

It’s Christmas, moron! And I always know how to reach you…  

Are you alone? Where are you?

Sherlock looks around him, he was waiting for his transport near the water in Istanbul. Not a chance I give her any specifics, he chuckles. 

Alone… and somewhere.

You don’t trust me?

You? Never! And you?

Turning her gaze to the partygoers, she sighs. She misses London so much, especially at this time of the year.

Me? Am I ever alone… I’m at a party surrounded by morons. Miss you so much you git! As they don’t count… I’m alone.

The ever-present feeling of being surrounded by idiots.

I feel the same.

About? Oh… Thank you sweet, it’s an immense compliment. Are you, I don’t know, safe?

His encounter with the local mafia had left him with a few broken ribs but he was feeling better. Think I’m going to avoid Turkey for a few years...

Sort of. Can’t complain really, I’ve seen worse.

Take care of yourself, my friend. People are waiting for your return.

With a smile, Sherlock closes his burner phone before throwing it away in the Bosphorus.

A secret confession (John POV) (57)

I realized after the pool... After Moriarty tried to separate us. I knew that we were going there… I knew it! My guts knew it. It was not only the longing that I was feeling since our first meeting, you were always so effortlessly sexy, but it was deeper.

The way our hands touch, all the times I caught your eyes on me, the many occasions when I had to physically remove myself from your presence or… or I wouldn’t be able to stop myself to make you see what I already knew. What everyone around us already knew!

I should have done something, I should have said something. I should have taken you in my arms, I should have kissed you until you realized that it was the only option for us... That we were one. That we were a unit, stronger together... Two parts of the same soul.

But I was too late, I didn’t have the time to say "Sherlock, my best friend, my partner, I love you"… To tell the world that you were loved as you deserve.

I didn't take the time to stop the madness around us and talk!

For that I will hate myself until my last breath...

My soul, my reason, my heart, my life… Your death destroyed everything.

Like a wrecking ball…

A secret encounter (142)

Sherlock was walking in nearly 30 centimetres of snow! I wish I were in London!  He was in pursuit of a war lord that hides himself near the polar circle and he was, to his horror, lost and without a car! How could I be lost! Only one bloody road in the country.

A light suddenly appears after a turn. Once in front of the house he knocks with difficulty. A jovial man opened the door quickly. "Oh! It’s freezing, come inside..."

The house was cozy with a lot of Christmassy things going on. Oh that’s right, it’s few days before Christmas. The second since... that day. The old man gestures towards the fire. “Warm yourself, son…”

When he was finally warmer, the strange man asks “Sherlock, what do you want for Christmas?”

How the hell does he know my name? He didn’t want to reply, but he was unable to stop himself muttering softly, “I want John to be… safe and happy.”

With a smile, his host asked softly, “And for you...”

“This is for me... I couldn't deal if he were not happy…”

“I'll do my best then... For you?” 

“Me? A cup of tea would be nice.”

Laughing, Father Christmas put the kettle on, "And you’re far too thin, son. I'm going to put something in your belly!"

A secret glossy present (195)

John was walking back to Baker Street without enthusiasm. Nothing new, nothing great, nothing exciting to turn away his mind from Sherlock's absence. He smiles sadly at one of Speedy’s employee and opens the front door of 221b. Dropping his smile, the odour of Mrs. Hudson’s fresh scones unable to warm his thoughts, he collected his mail and walks up the stairs.

As usual, he prepares tea, checking the mail while he waits for the water.

Publicity. Hate mail. Invoice. Fan mail. Invoice…. What?  He stops his perusing when his hands fall on a glossy magazine. Empire? It must be an error. He verifies the address of the movie magazine. It’s the right address… It must be a complimentary copy.

Unusually content, he took his tea and drops in his chair, relaxing while he notes DVDs that seem good or movies that may justify the effort to go to the cinema and be surrounded by people.

A month later, another issue arrived, and another... He called them but nobody knew who paid for the subscription only that it was paid in full for the next 2 years.  Accepting what was probably simply a gift, he felt suddenly lucky to have friends that know him that well.

From now on, his smile was a little less fake and a little bit brighter.

A secret different plan... (43)

 The scene on Bart's roof was his favourite when Sherlock was fooling around in his Mind Palace...

It's like a puzzle. He changed it times and times again... Looking for something that may have turned the event differently.

He was currently reviewing his preferred version; a small soft smile on his lips.

Moriarty was still resonating in his ears... His sing-song voice even more insufferable because of the emotions.

"Your death is the only thing that’s going to call off the killers. I’m certainly not going to do it." He was looking at me so intently. I was so unusually anxious and nervous; it was even difficult to talk calmly! As I needed time I ask the first thing I thought of.

"Would you give me ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy? Please?"

Moriarty look was so full of disappointment! As if he was realizing that I was only human... "Of course." And he moves away from me looking at the London skyline.... until he hears me laugh!

The look of nearly panic was priceless. "What? What is it? What did I miss?"

"ME." And John shoots the bastard. "Now what are we going to do? Any plan?"

Knowing that together they’ll find something, John and me against the world!, Sherlock spontaneously merrily kisses John, "I had a plan... before!"

A secret silence (84)

John came back exhausted from the surgery to find the flat… remarkably tranquil and clean. That’s so weird…

He remembers a conversation he had with Sherlock a few months ago when he was really quiet and subdued. You are really well behaved tonight! What did you do Sherlock? And his friend responded, I’ve got good and bad news John… The good news is that I will NEVER do that again!

Chuckling at the memory, John thought about the days it took to find the hundred crickets that were lost in the flat! Sometimes when the flat is quiet, like right now, he imagines that he still can hear the really annoying chirping!

But right now, nothing… no chirp, no violin, no tall git running mysterious experiments about something…

The silence.

After the buzzing day at work, it should be a blessing. But no. No. The only thing John saw was how sterile, lifeless…it was.  Nothing burned, no mess, no music, no life, no friendship, no love…

As he places his bag on the floor, the muted noise echoing in the empty room, John craves to have the flat as it was before when Sherlock was there.

Maybe I should get a new place? John thought as he sits in front of the orphaned black leather chair feeling miserable, hollow… bereft.

A secret gratitude (122)

“What can I do for you Doctor Watson?” Mycroft was surprised by the appearance of John waiting in the visitors’ room at Diogenes. It was now more than a year after Sherlock's ‘death’ and John was starting to get over it, now able to drag himself to work… But he still looks sad.

“I’m leaving 221b… I’m doing better – I think – and...” His voice was shallow but resolute at the same time.

“I will take care of everything, don’t worry. Ms. Hudson won’t need another tenant if she doesn’t want to. Take anything… Or I can open an account for you in the store of your choice.”

A slight smile appears on John’s face at the hope that he may soon be better. “Don’t need to go that far Mycroft… but Tak du, min elskede”

“What?” A confused Mycroft asks.

“Sorry… that’s something that Sherlock always said to me. Maybe I’ve got it wrong. It’s in a Slavic language. Tak. Du. Min. Els-ke-de.” Yes, it’s the way he was saying it. “It means ‘Thank you very much’.”

“Oh… Yes…” Holmes replies, troubled. He rises and escorts John to the entrance, waiting for him to turn at the cornerstone of the building before his expression falls. Poor John, I hope he never finds out that Sherlock was saying ‘Thank you, my beloved’.

A secret resolution (154)

The radio was broadcasting a New Year's Eve special program as John walks among the boxes and bags all over the flat. His mind was focused, not wanting to think too much about what he was doing. Moving out… Moving on… It’s been more than a year, it’s time for me to start anew and I won’t be able as long as… Pushing his thoughts and tears away, he tapes another box.

A few minutes later, his ears catch the song that was resonating in the flat… Auld Lang Syne. Closing his eyes, letting the words sink in his heart, he stops packing for a moment.

“Should Old Acquaintance be forgot, and never thought upon;”

No, my friend, my love, I will always think about you!

“The flames of Love extinguished, and fully past and gone:”

How could it be possible, my love only grows day after day…

“Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold, that loving Breast of thine;”

Never!

“That thou canst never once reflect on Old Lang Syne…”

As the song came to an end, John made the resolutions to never forget his love for Sherlock… but to give himself a chance. Walking to the door, he dropped his keys for Mrs. Hudson on a table and left.

Leaving his old life and his broken heart behind.

A Secret Memory (Part 1) (200)

"Who's this?" Sherlock was looking at the cute blond woman with a disgruntled face. "I don't like new people, it’s not right, it’s not ME!"

"Stop... stop this, please..." John mutters under his breath.

"Did you say something, love?" Mary was in the living room, putting the few things John wants to keep with him in a box.

"Nothing, darling... Sorry." It was his first time in Baker Street since he left a few months ago. Thank God Mrs. Hudson is not there today… He smiles at her reassuringly and turns to look at Sherlock who was standing near the window amongst the bags and boxes. The things he didn’t have the will to take when he left, his last link with 221b.

"Don't do this... Why are you making boxes? You are already living elsewhere, isn’t that enough? If you take all your things, it’s over!” He looks totally overwhelmed. “Your place is HERE!"

Heading to the door, the doctor informs his girlfriend with a shaking voice. "I just need to double-check, things, be back in a minute," leaving the room quickly. Of course, the detective was already in his bedroom, pacing relentlessly.

“You CAN’T! Don’t you realize that once that door is closed, you are leaving me for good! Aren’t you scared? You won't be able to come back!”

A Secret Memory (Part 2) (201)

“I am utterly terrified! You have no idea how much!” Tears start pearling in the doctor eyes, as he looks at his best friend. No, at the image of my friend… I mustn’t forget! “It’s you Sherlock, YOU! You are the one who left me!” He chokes on the words, trying to be honest with himself for once. “I can’t… I can’t stop living because of you.”

"But… I thought that you… that you loved me. I heard you say it, over and over… in your dreams, when you’re crying…” Sherlock's already unnatural looking eyes were glistering with tears. “You can do that to me, to us…”

“Yes, I can… I have no other choice! Don’t you see! Either I kill myself in hopes of finding you somewhere or at least to stop that constant suffering… or I find a reason to keep on living. Knowing that somewhere deep in my soul, you’ll be there. Always.” Standing near Sherlock, it was hurting like hell not to be able to touch him… It’s over, it’s madness, I can’t go on like this. “Sherlock William Holmes, my best friend, my unspoken love… I am letting you go. But know that you’ll always be in my heart. Forever.”

With a small but proud smile, the detective disappears slowly, leaving John alone in his bedroom.

A secret break-in (207)

A man was walking silently through a vacant 221b, not knowing what he was looking for. What am I doing… I’m not a detective!

His eyes fall on the familiar décor, I’ve been here before, but I didn’t see anything of importance… Tears of shame pool in his eyes as he remembers it. I was looking for evidence of him being a freak, a dangerous man… when in fact he was one of the most talented humans that I ever met.

The flat was partially empty, John having moved out few months ago, but most of Sherlock’s things were still there. As if waiting for his return… He can’t be dead… It’s impossible for such a brilliant mind to disappear like that! He smiles at his choice of words. Or in fact, it REALLY is possible for a brilliant mind like that to simply disappear.  

He turns to look at the papers on the mantel trying to find a clue of some sort. Maybe I could start a club or something, I am certainly not the only one who still believe in him!  He certainly needs help!

Mrs. Hudson's voice suddenly resonates in the building. “Who’s there? Leave the memory of that poor man alone! I’m calling 999!”

Anderson panics and rushes through the open bedroom window before he is busted.

Visiting in secret (98)

A feeling of being warm and safe was engulfing him, entirely. He looks at his beloved violin… At his microscope… The familiar odours of tea, chemicals and biscuits surrounding everything.

After his eyes stop on his skull, he starts to read all the titles of the many books on the bookshelves.

That book by Smith, Human Physiology – rubbish!, that great black book about terrorism, Criminal Law, Family Law, Land Law… Arthur Me’s Children’s Encyclopedia… Ten Most Wanted, not ten anymore as I found 6 of them… Oxford English Dictionary, of course, and that London A-Z book that John and I used for that case…

John’s books… about Vietnam, World History and other nonsense…

Shakespeare… Without opening any plays, Sherlock recite ‘I could not wish any companion in the world but you' Is it in Hamlet? No… The Tempest.  And King Lear! ‘Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty’  This is utterly beautiful... 'Dearer than liberty'… Good old Shakespeare’s always right!

A flash of pain brought him back to the present… He opens his eyes, the images of Baker Street now gone… replaced by darkness and his captors in a filthy cell...

Oh yes, the Fall, leaving John behind, Serbia…

Unable to summon again the peaceful 221b in his Mind Palace, Sherlock's eyes fall on the ground, already tainted red by his blood.

Chapter Text

 A secret flight (220)

The small plane was almost gliding silently thru the heavy clouds. Sherlock has been unconscious on and off since they left the hospital in Germany because of the pain killers and the effects of his anesthesia, his brother not leaving his side. 

A secret hand... (23)

The first night after he returned to London, Sherlock is finally all alone.

After a long visit to a surgeon, after a long overdue shower, after seeing John for the first time in years...

Alone in 221b. The familiar room is like a dark warm cocoon. 

He sighs profoundly, not knowing what to do next. It's a new feeling for him... Especially since in the last years he was always chasing someone or something. One after the other without any pause, without thinking about what's coming next...

But that overwhelming feeling of loss when he saw John with Mary. Then the violence of his assault. Three times. He knows he shouldn't have expected John to simply wait... But that hate was too much to bear.

His back is bleeding again. His heart will bleed forever.

The door opens and Mycroft, who of course saw everything via CCTV, enters the room with a medical kit in hand.

He silently changes the dressing on his back and stays until Sherlock falls asleep against his will. Exhaustion, he hadn't slept that much since Serbia, taking finally its toll. Mycroft took his younger brother's hand and didn't let it go for hours, before discreetly leaving.

They never talked about this night when Sherlock, even if he doesn't know or want it, needed his older brother.

A secret discussion (156)

Mycroft was waiting for Sherlock when Greg barged in the flat. Walking right in front of the older Holmes, he bellows. “YOU… You. Are. A. Fucking. Bastard!”

“Unfortunately, you’ll have to be more specific, Inspector.” Of course he knew precisely why the inspector was fuming.

Greg shakes his head. “No, you won’t lie again… like you lied for nearly three bloody years!”

“Oh…” Mycroft feigns surprise. “You’re talking about my brother's… trip abroad.”

“Me… I’m not important… But it nearly killed John.” Greg was remembering far too clearly the few times he, figuratively and not, removed the gun from John’s hands.

“I think he’s doing very well currently… In great shape in fact.” Mycroft closes his fists thightly, clearly showing what he was referring to.

“Sherlock burst in on him in the middle of his bloody proposal!”

With a smirk, Mycroft admits. “It’s true that the… timing wasn’t optimal.”

“Anyway… Nothing can justify that we were left in the dark!” Greg was ecstatic that Sherlock was back… but he was still mad about the prank they pulled!

“Success was far more important than your awareness, Inspector.” He rises and adds “… and knowing you, DI Lestrade, the day you realize the extent of my brother's sacrifice, it’s going to be a hard awakening…” And left silently before Lestrade was able to belie.

A secret conviction (81)

It was few weeks after his return. He was alone… John was with Mary, he hasn’t started to work with Scotland Yard again yet.

He was always alone.

Alone with himself.

Alone with his nightmares, the memories are invading his days…

Alone with his new… transport.

This is why he was walking around in the flat. Naked.

It was a way to take back his body.

Taking it back after what they’ve done to it.

He was acknowledging what they’ve marked, burned, crushed, violated… what they’ve shattered. He was fighting to comprehend that it’s a new part of him but doesn’t define him. That it doesn’t make him less intelligent, less able to catch criminals, less… him.

Turning his neck to look at his back in the mirror above the fireplace, the reflection of his scars was mixed with the familiar pattern of the wallpaper. The old and the new. The comfort and the pain. He turns to face the mirror, his torso white and nearly untouched.

Standing tall, he thought with force I am Sherlock Holmes and I will survive this!

Loudly, he says “I am Sherlock...” his voice breaks, unable to finish.

Thinking about why he was tortured, about who he saved by nearly sacrificing his life… He repeats with conviction. “I am Sherlock Holmes... I am not broken!”

A secret pain (91)

Sherlock, obviously furious, screams in frustration! It was a rare occurrence though he was often harsh, he rarely raised his voice more than just talking louder.  

“Can you go be stupid elsewhere?” He turns to look at Lestrade “WHY did you bring Anderson into my flat!”

“We are just checking on you, we want to be sure that you’re okay… The press conference about your return is this afternoon and you are looking… Not good.” In fact, the detective was looking terrible! His face was still slightly bruised from John’s ‘welcoming’ hugs and he was walking stiff as if constantly in pain. He moves closer to the young man “Is there something you want to talk to me you know…”

“NO! I just want to be left alone, is it too much to ask!” Now that the thrill of the possible terrorist attack was gone, he was restless. Not feeling himself, not knowing what to do with all the… sentiments that are polluting is mind!  John’s reactions, the flat that wasn’t theirs anymore, the way people talk to him as he was made of china!

But I can’t say that, can’t I? So he tries the only way he know.

“Go. I am not meeting the press…” He stretches out on the sofa, masking the wince the pain caused, “it’s boring!”

The secret in-laws (42)

"And what about John? Could we meet him?" Mrs. Holmes was looking eagerly over the flat.

"Yes, looks like a good man." Her husband approved.

"He's not living here anymore, like I've already told you." Sherlock was trying to change the subject but his mother always comes back to John... It's irritating! 

But of course, she continues "... but I know you love him so much, why can't he live here with you again? I don't understand... we were so happy that you found someone." She turns to Mr. Holmes, "Weren't we?"

"Yes, darling, very happy." 

"For the last time, Mummy, we are not a couple. And he's not here because he's living somewhere else with his... fiancée." On the last word, Sherlock voice slightly broke.

"Oh... My poor boy! You must be so sad... Are you certain that it cannot be fixed? He surely can't prefer that... that girl!" She lets go a derisive laugh, as if it were a personal insult that someone does not like her sweet boy! She mumbles about the importance of love and such silly things. Sherlock simply ignores her, not wanting to talk or think about John!

She was going about something going on at Parliament when the door opens. It was John!

Ooooh!, Sherlock's Mum thinks, I'm certain he'll someday make an excellent boyfriend.

A secret interrogation (209)

“What do you think of Mary?” Sherlock asks out of nowhere in a middle of a case analysis. 

Greg, who was sitting at ‘John’s place’ at the table, gives Sherlock a sad smile. “He loves her very much. It was so hard when you… left.” Subtitle: Don’t mess them up!

“I know…” How can I forget, when everyone keep reminding me! “I won’t intervene, the most important thing is his happiness, and you know that.” He pauses, trying to keep his gaze light and non-too inquisitive. 

“But… have you run a check on her or something? Just, you know, are you certain that everything is at it should be?” She’s a liar… But we all lie…

“Of course, I quickly ran a basic security check, you never know… there’s so much craziness everywhere and John used to be quite a public figure with the blog and your cases…” He frowns, trying to make something of the pictures in front of him.

Rolling his eyes, the detective pokes “And…”

“Everything was clean, nothing strange.” He glares at Sherlock severely. “Don’t you ever try to do something against her!”

“I won’t, don’t worry, I will even help them if they need something for the wedding.”

“Sherlock Holmes, wedding planner?” Greg laughs “The worst thing is... you’ll probably be brilliant at it, you berk!”

A secret hope (127)

A smile appears on Sherlock’s lips as children run on the sidewalk, playing in the snow. It was a big snowstorm by London’s standards. His thoughts went to a pleasant time when everything was easy, before John's proposal, before his withdrawal from his life, before everything…

Mycroft and I have never been big fan of winter sports, but we always managed to create really epic snowball fights! He chuckles melancholically, thinking about the one-time he cornered his older brother near a fence and nearly buried him with snow!

The noise of a delivery truck brought him back to 221b and his loneliness. I wonder if John is walking outside with Mary… He asks himself, sadness back in his eyes.

Suddenly, the door opened to Mycroft, in full winter gear – mittens, hat and all! Holding a similar kit in his hands, he smiles at the morose detective. “Come on brother mine! Let’s go play outside!”

“What?” Sherlock frowns. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“Like the old times, Sherl!” I only hope to bring back your smile! He grins deviously, “Anthea will witness everything and determine the winner!”

Tempting. “Okay… But don’t think I will let you win because of your old age!”

And Sherlock left his troubled mind at home and rushed into the small blizzard…

A secret new tenant! (189)

Mrs. Hudson was pouring the tea, talking relentlessly, when something that she said finally passes through Sherlock veil of indifference. 

“What?”

“Mrs. Turner married ones, my dear, I was saying that…”

“Irrelevant. Before that.”

“Before… Oh! I was saying that I finally found a tenant for 221c.” She smiles, happy for the new income.

“But… Someone new!” Sherlock mutters.

The landlady, unaware of his confusion, prattles. “It’s perfect, he’s paying for the refurbishing…" 

Still flustered, the detective murmurs to himself. “We are constantly wandering between floors…”

“And he won’t be here, isn’t it great? The income, without the hassle with free renovation!" Content, she sights happily. “Something about needing an address in London because of political aspiration or something like that…”

The detective's suspicion rises, it’s too convenient… It can only be someone with nefarious intentions! He interrupts her, more loudly this time. “Maybe too perfect… don’t you think? What do you know about this new tenant?” His phone chimes before Mrs. Hudson could replies

Don’t fuss, brother mine, aren’t you happy? 221c free… Perpetually… MH

Oh… Oh. “Forget everything, Mrs. Hudson, you’re right! What GREAT news! Really happy for you!”

“You don’t think this is too good to be…”

“No, no… I’ll do a security check on the man if you want.”

“Thank you, dear, you’re such a blessing…”

The secret feelings... (51)

Sherlock was uneasy, feeling the scrutiny from Mary upon his every move. Suddenly, between the modifications of the third and fourth tables, she takes his hands and says softly, "I love John, but I am not as blind as him! I know Sherlock..."

Not acknowledging or denying anything, Sherlock simply states, "what you think you may know is unimportant." He motions towards the papers and shrugs. "This. This is important."

"Why? We both know that if things were different..."

"But they're not. So this whole conversation is useless." Giving John the life of his dreams, that I do not fuck everything up as usual, that's what is important now!

Mary felt all the emotional restraint that the detective was constantly imposing on himself. Not realizing that with a sign from him, her fiancé will probably fall into his arms. After a good fight and a loud argument about the poor timing, but he will. As John was calling out Sherlock's name in every tone imaginable when he's dreaming, she realizes that this marriage will be a three-person affair... But she loves John too much to just let him go without a fight.

Later, out of the blue, the detective mutters his last words on the subject. "Only one thing Mary... love him. Love him like you never loved someone before."

A secret sacrifice (112)

Greg was running up the stairs. “Sherlock!” He opens the door of the flat. “Where are you?”

“God, stop shouting, Gavin!” A sleepy Sherlock, elegantly wrapped up in one of his 100 pounds apiece sheet, was shuffling out of his bedroom.

“Triple homicides!! Quick!!”

“Put the kettle on… It shouldn’t be long.” The tall man turns on his heel and heads back to his room.

As he starts arguing about not being his housekeeper, Greg stops as he catches a glimpse of Sherlock’s back. His friend was full of vicious scars. Some were white and thin, fading, while others were red, puffy and still cicatrizing. It was only a flash and he wasn’t able to see everything... But it was horrible.

He remembers a conversion with Mycroft, a few weeks ago. Knowing you, DI Lestrade, the day you realize the extent of my brother sacrifice, it’s will be a hard awakening…

Tears appear in his eyes, as shame about his previous doubts came back. We turned our back on him so quickly! And he was willing to lose everything for us…

A few minutes later, Sherlock walks out of his bedroom, in his usual casual runway look.

Greg was waiting, two cups of tea in hands. Seeing the tears, Sherlock mutters, “don’t fuss.” Then more loudly, “triple homicides! Where?”

“505 Birchwood.”

A secret trigger (113)

Sherlock was at the desk, reading files. “John….”

John turns toward him, waiting, amazed that his friend was here alive. It’s been only a few months since his return and, even if he still hated him sometimes for the stunt he pulls, he was sincerely happy yet confused by the man's return to his life.

“I need you to go to Bart’s to look at a corpse, the autopsy report is not right… will you do this for me?”

These words, these exact words Sherlock said to him on Bart’s roof. Will you do this for me? Just before… before… The flashback was intense, the pain spreads quickly in all the fibres of his body, heart and mind, leaving him shaking and pale. I am a soldier, how can I react like this to six fucking words!

The detective, realizing at once that something was wrong asks softly, “John… are you okay?” The doctor snaps out of it instantly at his friend's voice but his eyes were still full of pain. Quickly understanding the cause of his friend’s behaviour, what else can bring down John like this, Sherlock closes his eyes and mutters, “I am so sorry for the pain I caused you…”

“I know… but sometimes it’s just too much. Even now.” He smiles courageously. “What’s wrong with the body?”

A secret addiction (208)

“Sherlock?” John was standing in the kitchen near the bin, cleaning a bit even if he does not live in 221b anymore. “What’s that?”

The detective was in the living room, looking at his ever-growing collage on the wall.  I’m missing something! Oh right, John’s here. Talking. “Whaaaaaaaaat?”

“A new passion for 4-pounds-a-cup-specialty-coffee Sherlock?” He removes a few coffee cups from the bin and put them on the kitchen countertop. Smiling, more and more with each variation.

 Latte with pumpkins spices for Cherloc.

Americano 2 shots of vanilla flavour for Shylorc.

Mochaccino with chocolate shavings for Skyrock

Maple Soy latte for William (Clearly fed up of having his name totally destroyed each time!)

Toasted White Chocolate Mocha for Wyleam (Come on! They didn’t even try!)

Cinnamon Dolce Latte for the tall and handsome with black curly hair Lucy x (Peuh, as if!)

Sherlock was looking at John, frowning at the giggles from the kitchen. “What’s so funny? It was… for a case.”

“A… case?” The doctor's tone clearly indicated that he wasn’t buying it!

“Okay… You discovered my big secret! I’m addicted to that coffee shop!”

Looking again in the bin which still contained a dozen or so of empty cups, he teases, “no iced coffee?”

“ICED coffee! I may like flavoured, overly sweet coffee, John, but I'm not totally bonkers!”

A personal secret (215)

"Sherlock!" The detective was at his computer, or maybe John’s, the line is kind of blurry. "SHERLOCK ! Focus!" He walks over and closes the computer quickly, nearly squeezing his brother’s fingers.

"I was working!" He finally turns to look at Mycroft, realizing that the normally composed and cold man was flustered. “Oh God! Mummy or Dad!”

“No, no, they are still on their cruise around the Greek Islands…” Mycroft falls in a nearby chair.

“What it is then? A crisis at work? Someone wants to play with missiles without your authorisation? Trump is coming for a visit and the Queen is hiding in a closet?” Sherlock wasn’t worried as Mycroft always had a solution for everything… “My’, I can’t think what the problem could be..."

Mycroft, looking like a deer in headlights, interrupts him and murmurs, “I think I’m having feelings for someone. How do I make it stop?"

“Oh…” Sherlock thought of the people his brother knows… “And what about 'caring is not an advantage…"

“Yes! This is why I want it to go away!” “I don’t know… Just stop seeing that person for a start!”

At that moment Ms. Hudson knocks at the door. “Wooo - hooo, Sherlock! That nice inspector is here to see you…”

Oh God why did I came here, Mycroft thinks, I should have known better!

A secret connection (218)

Mary was alone with Mrs. Hudson, sorting the invitations, when the old lady points to the frilly decorations.

“It wasn’t like that at mine!” She laughs, shaking her head “Only an Elvis celebrant and daiquiris!”  

Chuckling at the image, Mary looks at the woman in front of her.  “You had such a life, Mrs. Hudson, and look at you now. A pillar in the life of so many people, an owner and a respected citizen in central London.”

“Yes…” Her voice was soft, remembering her adventures, of all that brought her to this particular point in her life. “What a journey it was.” A little shy, she murmurs “Sometimes, when I am a little too tired or a little lonely, I ask myself…. Am I allowed to  have all this?”

Hugging her tightly, Mary protests, “If anyone has the right to a second chance Mrs. Hudson, it’s you!”

“You’re too kind, my dear… But we all, you know, deserve a second chance.” Her piercing eyes regarding Mary’s, silently implying, ‘even you’.

A wave of sadness falls on the ex-assassin. “Maybe not…”

“Darling, whatever was your past, THIS, this is the future you choose for yourself.” Looking at the to-do list, she smiles to Mary with sparkles in her eyes. “For your cake, I have an ex-lover who is an excellent baker…”

A secret outburst... (68)

Sherlock was sitting at the kitchen table, angry... so angry. About life, about bad timing, about his ineptitude to stop his heart from suffering.

It was not a sentiment he was used to. Bored, reckless, irritated by stupidity. Yes... but pure anger? No.

He looks around his flat. It's not my flat anymore, it's a bridal shop!  

The detective suddenly jumps from his chair, running to open the window… wishing to throw everything away! The vision of John and Mary in a sea of lilac unbearable.

It was supposed to be me! Why? WHY? He pushes his anger down, when his mind gives the only reply he can come up with: He... He didn't want me. I can't be angry because an unreasonable dream does not become reality... 

He closes the window, unconsciously putting the decorations and other samples back into place when he had barged across the room.

His temper in disarray, crying, he walks to his bedroom and opens the closet. Then he punches the wall with his fists, pummeling it until the plaster cracks... Until he couldn't feel anymore and drops onto the floor shaking and exhausted, the pain replacing everything for a moment.

His last strength went into closing the door of the closet... Before he finally falls asleep on the floor, his fists caked with blood...

A secret threat (147)

Mary was sitting at the kitchen table when Mycroft Holmes enters the flat.

“Sorry Mr. Holmes, Sherlock and John are not here…” She frowns apologetically. “Something about paperwork they need to sign at the Yard.”

Sherlock's brother smiles, he was the one who created the diversion. “I know, Miss Morstan…” The stress that the man puts on her name wasn’t lost to the woman.

Oh… this is the time. She rises from her chair. “What do you want, Holmes?” She asks, her voice equal and measured.

“Just a warning, Miss… Morstan, take care how you go nowadays, if you hurt anyone, anyone, I will find you. And I will destroy you.” The business approach of the discussion was chilling, even for an experienced mercenary. “My brother seems to like you, he's always loved crusades and damsels in distress, so I won’t do anything for now, but I will… keep tabs on you.”

Pointing at the wedding invitation, he adds with a smirk. “You’ll understand that I will unfortunately not be able attend the festivities.” He sighs sadly. “Doctor Watson is a good man and I am a little bit disgusted by all this… affair.”

After one last look at the blasted woman who nearly single-handedly destroyed his brother's heart. If only I could simply have her killed!, Mycroft leaves the building.

The secret of the stag night (32)

It's was going wubferfililly. Wunzerfilly. Zunderfolly. Great. Sherlock tries to think!

It was John's stag night and the detective planned everything.  The places where they fought crime together, the level of alcohol consummation... How long before they end up in Baker Street. Alone.

Evarything is pìiirficto, he sighs internally. He gave John the drunken stupor that was expected on a stag night and he was himself fairly inebriated to John's greatest delight.

God Sh'lock I've never seen you soooo drank drinky drunk! John was laughing.

Yes, everything was planned in order to avoid being able to think. To think about John and Mary... About John leaving him... The detective even calculated the moment when he might succumb. When the light twitches in John's eyes... When the umpteenth bottle was nearly empty. When he will capitulate and gazes at John's lips longingly and...

“Ooh-ooh!” It was Ms. Hudson “Client!”

John and Sherlock were able to utter a shaky “Haaaaaaallo.”

"Which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?” The nurse asks, looking at both men expectantly. Sherlock mind, as quickly as possible in stupor, remembers the meeting he set up with the client earlier that day. Right... Tessa. Right on time to protect me from myself…

The fleeting moment gone, the case part of the stag night can begin, Sherlock put down the bottle. 

A secret weapon (206)

Sherlock was fully clothed in a morning suit, not really his style but it’s okay. All dressed-up, notecards for his speech in his pocket, he was ready. Ready as he could be. Ready for his best friend's wedding.

For John’s wedding.

For John and Mary’s wedding.

A light tremor appears in his hands that he pushes away impatiently. Not today. It’s for John. For John and Mary. But he was too late, the feelings were slowly taking over even if he tries to shove them down. I must calm myself, I must… The bloody breathing thing doesn’t work!  “Fuck!” He raises his head looking at his image in the mirror, shocked by this uncustomary swearing. I must find something, or I will not be able to get through the day. He closes his eyes for a second when his phone pings, it was John.

On my way! The car is A-MA-ZING! I feel like an American gangster!

Maybe I can…  Walking back to his table he takes a tube of a generic brand of hair product. A flash of his time away, when that particular odour helped him to pass thru so much hardships, passes rapidly in his mind. Putting a little bit on his hair, he inhales profoundly, calming instantly.

 I’m ready. SH

Perfect! Can’t be late for my betrothed!

 

A secret solution (78)

It was a week after John wedding, and Greg was at Baker Street to check up on Sherlock.

“How are you?” He looks horrible… How could John be so idiotic!

“Fine... Don’t worry Greg…” Sherlock's tone was falsely cheerful, his heart slowly building back the wall he had before he met John.

Greg frowns, he used my name… that’s not good. “You certainly don’t look fine…”

“Then stop looking and leave.” Why people are suddenly so concerned about how I feel… Ms. Hudson, Molly, Mycroft…

“Sherlock, you know you can talk to me… If you… If you are thinking about getting back to your old habits.” Greg puts slowly a hand on his friend shoulder. “I’m there for you… We are all.”

The detective quickly shrugs away the hand and gets up to walk away. “I am perfectly fine!”

“I want you to know that I am there for you!” Greg repeats.

“I ignored you perfectly the first time, you don’t need to repeat it!”

The older man rises to follow him “You can’t keep suffering like this!”

Opening the door, Sherlock silently waits for Greg to leave him alone.

“I will come back!”

Sherlock closes the door, thinking about the injection that was waiting for him. Don’t worry Greg… I won’t suffer pathetically for long… and he turns the bolt.

A secret rescue (58)

A day after
One day... I can deal with one day... I should sort all the wedding arrangements for Mary.

A week…
I'm a grown man I can stay alone...  It's his bloody honeymoon!

Two weeks…
I know they returned few days ago... Why did he… they... are not contacting me? I don't understand... I’m his best friend, no?

Three weeks…
I am useless now... Am I so stupid, how in the Hell could someone like John needs someone like me… Who needs a best friend when you can have a whole family?

Three weeks and one day
I should have stayed away... I should have died in Serbia. It would have been simpler for everyone. Maybe I could… No. John would be devastated… or not?

Three weeks and two days
It would be so easy to just call my dealer…

Three weeks and three days
This weigh nearly nothing… To think that with only a push I can end all this… Should I write something? I can send Mycroft an automatic message in a few hours. Don’t want Ms. Hudson to find me... (The doorbell rings) "What???"

John never knows that Lady Smallwood came in a few minutes before he took a dose strong enough to end is life.... She saves him by asking him to defeat Magnussen, the blackmailer.

A secret introspection (210)

Inside Sherlock’s bedroom, Janine was waiting for the noise to fade out before going out to get ready for work. After too much wine the night before she fell asleep in his bed while she was waiting for him to come back from an undercover job.  My life sometimes! If someone had told me at John’s wedding that I would become Sherlock Holmes' girlfriend. She sighs silently. Almost girlfriend… The man is clearly gay! Not only gay, desperately in love with his best friend! 

Remembering when he texted her out of the blue for a date, she smiles. It was clearly a first for the striking man, and his insecurity was showing under the bravado. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that the detective was clearly needing her for something but if it was the price to pay to be able to spend time with him, who cares!  I’m pathetic.

Finally exiting the room, she realizes that John was still there. That’s awkward.  “Oh, John, hi.” Why the hell didn’t I take Sherlock’s robe instead of his shirt! “How are you?”

“Janine?” 

The incredulous expression on her friend's husband's face sent a pang to her heart. Unbelievable, Yeah, I know… Don’t need to rub salt in the wound! “Sorry. Not dressed.” Not knowing what to do, she smiles, thinking Sherlock, you bastard!

Mary’s secret (89)

Sherlock wasn’t able to sleep, powerless to find a good position. The hospital bed wasn’t at fault as it was top notch and designed to be as comfortable as possible for the patient. Like sleeping on a cloud, the nurse told him! Maybe when dark clouds are not floating over your head…

He was simply not able to stop thinking now that the morphine level was lower in his blood. He was restless… Thinking about John.

About his friend… laying down in a suburb near the woman who shot him, far away from his real home, Baker Street.

You don’t tell him…

Mary’s voice was ringing in his Mind. You don’t tell him…

Not knowing what to do was killing him… Which is a nice euphemism when I actually died on the operation table a day before!

Should I talk to John? Egoistically, the chance to kick Mary out of John’s life was tempting… No, I can't do that… He chose her, I shouldn’t let my lov… sentiment cloud my judgement. But I can force her to reveal herself and John to see her for what she is… A woman who he loves and that clearly needs our help.

With a strong will, he rises and without disturbing the alarm until the last moment, he prepares himself for the inevitable battle.

A secret plan (146)

John was in a nearby room when he hears Mrs. Holmes. “Somebody's put a bullet in my boy and if I ever find out who, I shall turn absolutely monstrous!”

Tears quickly appear in his eyes as he thinks about Mary who was quietly reading near the fireplace. The images of his friend in the hospital flashing in front of his eyes.

What are we doing here anyway? 

When Sherlock invited him to come at the Holmes’ country cottage for Christmas, he never expected more than a family visit planned to change his mind about the things that were going badly in his life, an occasion to rebuild their friendship! But to find my lying/murderous/pregnant wife waiting for me, all cozy! I don’t understand Sherlock! He should hate her with all his guts! He chuckles derisively. I know that his mom would…

Later that afternoon, he finally decided to give her a chance… A chance for a new life, with him and the baby. Just before she falls in his arms, unconscious. Sherlock enters the room as he was putting her on the sofa. “Don’t worry, the baby will be fine… Did you bring your gun?”

“What?”

And they embark for an adventure that will change their lives forever.  All traces of their life as it was before bygone…

Chapter Text

A secret twin (211)

Tesco. What am I doing at Tesco. Oh yes, Mrs. Hudson, she kicked me out of MY flat to do a thorough cleaning and ordered me to get food. Boring. I was watching a movie, I wasn’t wasting my time.  It was the twentieth playing of that ‘Cast Away’ DVD that John forgot in Baker Street, but who's counting? Not me. And I am not obtuse, I can see the irony of watching a movie about a man who is so alone that he stops shaving and is becoming mad!  But you must admire his dedication!  

He was slowly wandering down the aisles, looking but not seeing a thing. Produce, crisps, nuts, cakes, juice, cereals, beans, biscuits, bread… Cereal, yes, I think I can do cereal… He ends up at the front with a nearly empty basket and slowly places the few things on the counter: gingernuts, tea, Bakewell tarts, a box of cereals and milk. The lady smiles warmly at Sherlock, as if she understood that he was utterly lost.

“Is that all, love?”

Recovering from the trance he had fallen into, he sees something that finally caught his eye and asks softly, “One of those, please.”

“Any particular colour?”

“No, not important…”

And just like that, Sherlock Holmes walks home with a bag of groceries and an orange balloon...

A secret ally (167)

Sherlock was alone, thinking of the next steps for the 'Thatcher' case. He was supposed to meet John and Mary later. It was exciting but... He was always uneasy around the new family.

Hum... I need something with me. Something to focus my attention... If needed. Don't know if I'm going to need it... But better to have a plan.  He rises from his chair, walking back and forth in the living.  Something to fuss over, low tech. Not my phone. John clearly doesn't like it when I'm looking at it constantly instead of interacting with... people. Hum... Maybe I could? Yes, that's it!

Pulling out his phone, Sherlock quickly texts one of his contacts. A few seconds after, his phone pings. Reading the message, a warm smile spreads over the detective's face.

I don't mind, God knows he needs the exercise, but you know he's pretty useless Sherlock.

Perfect for what I need. See you later. SH

Grabbing his coat and his scarf he runs to the door to join John and Mary, still smiling.

Yes. What I need right now is a dog. The thought of Redbeard always calmed me... Toby will do the job just fine, maybe I can ask Craig if I can keep him a bit longer? Nothing can beat the potential cuteness of a bloodhound!

A secret itinerary (203)

“It's not possible!” John was fuming! “And a secret meeting with my wife without telling me! Really?”

“It was, as you said, secret…” The detective replies, unable to tame a little smirk.

“Now is not the moment to be…” The doctor stops, looking for the perfect word. “Yourself!”

"She only wants to protect you and Rosie.”

“How could you know what she was thinking?” He was pacing the living room. “She definitely wasn’t thinking about us!”

Softly, Sherlock answers,“I know that she loves you and Rosie very much…” The look that accompanies his words was full of unspoken pain. “And I know the extend of what someone can do when their loved ones are at risk…” 

Stunned for a minute, at the thought of another person self-sacrificing on his behalf, John puts Rosie in her portable cot. “But we know now that it's always better to have the people that love you around when you think that there’s no way out.” He smiles, “Especially when you're friends with the one and only Sherlock Holmes.”

“And that’s why, if you allow me to continue, the USB stick that she took from me… has a tiny tracker in it!” The tada! implicit in the detective's tone, forces a smile to appear on John's weary face.

“You couldn't have told me that before?”

Mournings in secret (217)

In the sedan, Mycroft was talking softly...

Things like ‘her days had been numbered as soon as she choose that line of work,' and, ‘She nearly killed you once for God's sake!’ or the terrible lie that ‘John wasn’t thinking about what he said…’

Enough!  Putting his hand on the door handle, Sherlock cried out loudly. “Stop the car.”

“No! Sherlock! I won’t let you alone tonight…” but it was too late, his brother was already out of the car. “SHERLOCK!”  Mycroft was pondering the idea of asking the chauffeur to follow him when his phone buzzed.

 He’s running in direction of Baker Street sir. A

Of course,  Mycroft sighed.

Once he was finally alone, Sherlock drops into his chair. Lost. Troubled by feelings that, except for overwhelming guilt, he didn’t know how to name.   It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have toyed with her like that… Always showing off… But Mary didn’t play by the rules! Norbury was supposed to kill ME! I don’t understand; my death would have simplified everything… 

His pain following his friend's reaction was annihilating anything that wasn’t John. Mourning the fragile equilibrium they managed to create since his return as well as for Mary's death.

I lost two friends today…

Crying silently, Sherlock wraps himself in his coat, turning his back on the world.

Alone.

Bereaved.

A secret helper (197)

Sherlock was on the sofa, slowly coming back… the fog surrounding his thoughts and feelings still present but despair was gradually overflowing everything again.

“Shezza… Shezza…” a voice asked, “are you coming back for good now?”

Opening his tear rimmed eyes with difficulty, the detective turns in direction of the voice. “… Billy? Are you real?”

“Yes, I am, idiot!” He quickly slaps Sherlock behind the head, happy that he was finally awake.

“What are you doing here…” The devastated man was clearly fighting to come back from his stupor.

“Heard about… her… so… I ask friends to check if y’a doin’ som’thing stupid.”

“Why…” His tone was harsh from the crying. “Why do you care…” Nobody cares, nobody important cares, John does not care. The words Anybody but you  were echoing in his brain, clouding everything with sadness and self-hatred.

Billy sighs, looking at the shadow of a man in front of him. “I know what you need… but don't want you to do stupid things.” Pushing away the cheap drugs an un-customarily careless Sherlock bought from a shady dealer, he opens his bag and with a carefully measured dose, he helps Sherlock to fall into oblivion.

Staying near to watch over the detective, he sighs. “I'm not going anywhere, be here to help and... one day it’s gonna be better…”

A secret chess game (204) 

Looking at her frantic brother, Eurus Holmes was strangely calm. Clearly not worrying a bit about the possibility that the high as a kite detective realizes who she was. At least I am not really that pig’s daughter... Culverton Smith has no finesse, no beauty. Without the power his money gave him, he’s nothing. She waits, as Sherlock deduces the clues she puts on the piece of paper.  What a life we could have had. Donning an amazed but upset smile on her face, she gives him the admiration that he craves at that moment.

“You can’t tell things like that from a piece of paper!” So easy to interact with people, it’s like a script, it's triggers and mathematics. Action. Reaction.

“Think I just did, didn’t I?” He looks deeply troubled suddenly. “I’m sure that was me.”

Maybe… so lost he can't explain that to me? I want to understand him, I want to own him. “ How ?”

Sherlock was looking at her clueless. “Don’t know… Just sort of ... happens, really.” He now appeared to be in pain, holding his head in his hands. “It’s ... like a reflex. I can’t stop it.”

At her brother's distress, a frightened young girl pops-up in Eurus’s head but she was quickly pushed away. It’s playtime. I will free you from your demons, little brother. 

A secret monster (John POV) (75)

Sherlock was on the mend and it’s past time that we left him alone but for now we are trying not to. And doing something was helping me. A little. Against the guilt, against the rage that still possessed me sometimes.

I was in the living room when I heard the first sound since Molly left. A cry… that quickly changed to a real screech.

I opened the bedroom door to look at the tormented man. I’ve seen him having nightmares, this is not new. I don’t really know what he went through, but I know it wasn’t a bloody holiday!

A year ago, when I slept here following a case, I heard him scream in terror in a Slavic language…  

I’ve seen how hollow he is sometimes when nobody is looking…

And I know that I let him down when he needed me the most. Now it’s time to redeem myself, even if it’s hard.

I simply sit at the edge of the bed, trying to calm him… Saying that he was safe at home… With me… After another blood chilling screech, Sherlock mutters while unconsciously protecting himself. “NO.. JOHN! WHY... NO!”

I exit the room disgusted by myself.

Whatever happened when he was away is no longer the reason for his nightmares…

I am the new monster to blame.

A secret bargain (166)

Sherlock opens his eyes, wary, anxious… not really knowing where he was.

Baker Street. I’m in my bed… That’s… that’s good. His sheets were trashed, his pillows on the floor. With difficulty he tried to stay calm, focusing on his breathing. But each inspiration was causing so much pain. Right. Broken ribs.

Extending his hand with great difficulty, he tries to reach his phone when he hears something coming from the kitchen. Someone is there. His body painfully tense, expecting an attack until a well-known voice passes through the bedroom door. John. It’s only John. He’s talking on the phone.

To the detective dismay, his anxiety didn’t disappear… On the contrary. But it’s John. Only John… He closes his mind as images of what happened in the mortuary flash rapidly, his senses trying to overcome his Mind palace.

He wasn’t himself, stop that! It’s John. My… friend John. Doctor John H. Watson. He did what was needed at the time… He was still shaking, unable to stop panicking.

His emotions rebelling against the rationality of his mind, he falls back on the bed, exhausted.

It’s over now. It was the only way to save him, to bring him back to life, to us, to me…

It’s ok if I went to hell as Mary asked, it was part of the bargain.

A secret conversation before a hug (194)

“How could...”

“I know! Don't you think I hate myself enough now?” John utters under his breath.

“Not enough if you can't apologize to him," she snaps.

“How can I ever apologize for that... he's going to come up with bogus excuses and brush it under the rug...” His voice broke a little more, “I don't deserve to be forgiven…”

Her tone was full of love when she says softly, “John...” 

“Stop coddling me!” He turns his head to chase her from the room. “So many excuses, like I'm under stress, nearly PTSD, that I’m drinking too much and not sleeping enough, a widower with a young child... that I am angry that he's the reason why... why… why I am all alone again.”

“But you are a widower with a young child. You are mourning your wife, the idea of the life you could have had… And as for the rest you know that's not what happened…” She chides him sympathetically.

“Yes… I know.” John admits with tears in his eyes. “It was… your... her doing only.”

“Tell him… At least, tell him that. Please, do this for your friend... for you!”

John snaps out of it as Sherlock sits in his chair, back from the bathroom. He really does look like hell.

“I had, of course, several other backup…”

A secret text... (62)

italic: Irene / non-italic: Sherlock 

Happy birthday darling xox  

** Later

Sorry, John was here then we went out for cake.

Can you believe it? Cake.

Oh. With John? Really? Is it… ok? 

Yes. Don’t judge me, Mycroft is already doing a pretty good job at it!

It just that I wasn’t aware that you were masochist… 

The things I could have done to you… Sigh. 

Sherlock, it’s a joke. Breathe! 

I know it’s a joke, I’m not a moron.

Honey… did he ask for your forgiveness? 

Not in words… but I know he feels awful about it.

Sherlock… 

WHAT! Am I stupid because I want to keep our friendship!

Friendship…?

Yes.

No.

Maybe.

Stop asking the same question! I don’t know the answer.

You know the answer… you are just afraid of it my darling…

But I must admit that the timing is not ideal right now, with his wife dead and the fact that you nearly died at his hands. 

Don’t say that…

Don’t excuse him, Sherlock, be honest, what he did was horrible.

I am not excusing anything… but I choose to forgive him.

I love him… so much… It hurts. Sometimes I can’t think.

I know my sweet… I’m so sad sometimes thinking about you, all alone. 

You don’t have to worry about me.

Taking care of you, my friend, is my business. 

A secret menace (205)

John was turning onto Baker Street when a car stops in front of the building. As he was expected it was Mycroft, but in the company of his parents.  Mrs. Holmes quickly spotted John and rushes to take him in her arms.

“I was so sorry when I heard about Mary. I hope that… that things are getting better now.” She smiles softly. “It takes time…” She nods at John as her husband leads her upstairs to Sherlock’s flat. 

It’s been a few days now since he left the hospital and, as far as John knows, it was the first time Sherlock’s parents have been here for months. It’s good. Nodding at Mycroft, the doctor turns to leave the family alone. “I will give you privacy Mycroft, let me know when you’re leaving, I’ll be at Speedy's for a cup of…”

But John didn’t have the time to finish his sentence as his head hit the  wall as the taller man was pressing his forearm on his throat, effectively stopping him from going anywhere. Putting his mouth near John’s ear, he murmurs harshly, "If  you ever, ever, put your hands on him again, I will destroy you. Do you hear me? I. Will. Destroy. You.” He steps back. “Good day, Doctor Watson.” His usual sarcastic cold demeanour returns in a blur.

A secret operation (198)

“Sherlock! You must talk to your brother… he knows something for sure!” John was pacing the living room, still not believing what Eurus told him!

“He won’t talk. I know him…” Closing his eyes to concentrate, Sherlock was trying to focus his thoughts around the new data that were flooding his thankfully clean mind. I wasn’t crazy, someone came here as Culverton’s daughter… My sister… But John let go a joyful exclamation that brings him back from his reverie. “I’m sorry John, but I don’t know if the situation is really that funny…”

“No, no, of course… It’s just that I found a way!” He was smiling, the ordeal of the last hours pushed away for the moment. “We must scare the hell out of him! Only then is he going to talk!”

“What… I don’t believe…”

“With a creepy sister that is probably far away somewhere, he won’t be able to keep his cold composure if she’s suddenly attacking him.” The doctor was nearly laughing.

“Hum… yes, maybe…” Sherlock murmured “He already lives in a creepy old house.”

“Do you have any idea to freak him out?”

“He always passionately hated clowns…” Sherlock was now deviously smiling as well.

“What about that little circus we helped a few years ago when the juggler was accused of murdering the bearded ballerina?”

A secret thing in common... (199)

"Molly?" Sherlock's voice was hollow, as if it wasn't him. He was in his chair, still in his pyjamas.

He is better at hiding the haunted look that hadn’t left him since he returned home, the pathologist thought before smiling sadly. "Yes, Sherlock?"

The detective froze, the words were there, right at the tip of his tongue. I'm so sorry that I have disappointed you so much again. You are my friend and I keep putting you in dire situations, exploiting your friendship... your affection for me. Putting yourself in the middle of John and I, nearly forcing you to choose a side. I am so sorry. And I know that it won't be the last time, because you are invaluable to me, Molly Hopper, and because of that you are a target. But he simply looks at her with a shy smile.

"We're good, right?" The hope in the few words nearly brought Molly to tears.

"Yes, Sherlock, we are... always." Panic rises in the young woman as the image of another softly pronounce Always brought colour to her cheeks! “But, always like you know always… Not always like…you know… Always… I am wayyyy over…” God I am so stupid! Shut up now!

“I don’t see myself as Lily Potter, don’t worry, Molly.” He smirks. “More like Sirius Black.”

A secret understanding (170)

“How could your brother manipulate you like that? He lied to you, to your parents…” John was still clearly angry about Sherringford.

“He did the best he could did a shitty situation… My parents didn’t handle it well, Eurus should have been hospitalized way before what happen to Victor. They should have talked to the police…” Sherlock puts a newly acquired picture of Victor on the mantel. “Uncle Rudy and later Mycroft did what they could at that time even if it looks cruel.”

“But…”

“No. I was shutting down… encouraging new memories was the only way, especially after Musgrave burned down.”

“But... Sherlock…”

“Mycroft, even if I found his concern about me overbearing sometimes, was only protecting me…” he looks at the picture, thinking about the files Mycroft gave him recently. “You know John… I stopped talking for months… I was having terrible nightmares, looking for Victor, afraid of the fire, terrified of Eurus…” His voice was only a murmur… but perfectly audible to his older brother who was listening from his office. “He’s been manipulated by her… Like everyone. But for the rest…he was so young, do you realize? Only a teenager… A teenager afraid for a little boy's sanity…”

Both men, few kilometres apart, silently cried. Grateful that in all that craziness they didn’t lose a brother…

Chapter Text

The secret invasion... (31)

Someone invaded his beloved 221b, secretly, insidiously and there is nothing he can do about it...

How was he supposed to react? What was expected from him? What should I do? He knows that John wasn't coming back before few hours... so no help can come from that side. Calling Geoff or Mycroft, wouldn’t help either.

This is something he must do on his own.

Running to the door, he locks it. Ok. Good. No one will know what happens. It is better that way... He quivers at the thought of Ms. Hudson walking in on him to witness what he was about to do.

What he NEEDS to do!

Walking slowly to the end of the sitting room he finds the intruder tucked under a blanket, looking at him with eyes full of tears. "Watson... Why are you doing this to me? Your dad will be here soon...". It was useless, the toddler was crying more, raising her arms towards Sherlock.

The perfect mix of Mary and John was like a knife in Sherlock’s heart… but curiously also a comfort to his numerous emotional wounds.

Courage then! What cannot be avoided 'twere childish weakness to lament or fear!

The detective who survived torture, serial killers and crazy mind games took in his arms, for the first time, the crying baby.

The (not so) secret voice of reason... (129)

Ms. Hudson was in the kitchen, putting little ‘bouchées’ in the barely use oven for tonight soirée. The first since Sherlock is back… The first after... Mary and that strange explosion a few months ago. She turns to look discreetly at her boy. He was relaxing, cosy in front of the fire. Tuning his violin while looking at his partitions. Having friends over tonight is good, the last years have been so horrible.

For too many, Sherlock was a cold bastard… Never thinking about others, always seeing people as an obstacle to an end. Always a harsh comment, always the last word. But not for Martha Hudson, the voice of reason.  It’s because they never had a glimpse of how he is when his mind is at rest… In the comfort of his beloved flat, surrounded by his favourite things. When the thrill of a case is still present but the urge for a new one isn’t yet present…

Looking at the man, she realizes that he’s better at dealing with those inactive periods. Finally at peace with himself enough to be able to just… do nothing. Smiling, the old lady felt a burst of love and gives a puzzled Sherlock a warm hug.

The detective was her saviour, the child she never had and above all a wonderful human being.

A secret baby Jesus (145)

Mrs. Hudson was surveying the living room then sighs contentedly.

Everything is perfect! The party is going well, everyone is having a good time... Festive music in the background, twinkling fairy lights and a nice selection of food.

Turning her eyes on the little group, she smiles. Greg and Mycroft are carefully avoiding each other's gaze, John and Sherlock are as usual oblivious to the attraction they have for each other, Molly is just a bit tipsy… Is she flirting with Anderson? My God… But Anderson is better since Sherlock's return. And now that he finally divorced his wife…

Thinking about how things have changed in the last year, she turns to look at Rosie, frowning when she realizes that the cute little toddler wasn’t on her activity mat playing with her toys.

“John, dear…” She asks quietly then a little more loudly when the doctor didn’t pay attention to her. “John!”

“Oh! What is it, Mrs. Hudson?” He was clearly enjoying the evening.

“Where’s Rosie?”

John's grin drops as he looks where his daughter was supposed to be. “Shit! Oh, sorry Mrs. Hudson… Sherlock, where is Rosie!” His voice now has a panicky edge to it.

Sherlock smiles lovingly as he points at the little girl that had fallen asleep under the tree, like the gift that she had become.

A secret tête-à-tête (119)

It was the traditional Christmas little soirée in Baker Street. Sherlock was playing carols to Ms. Hudson and Molly's delight, John was taking care of the food and the drinks.  The evening was warm and comfy, everyone enjoying the company of others.

All for the exception of one.

Greg was brooding in the corner, looking at Mycroft. Since that Eurus business, everything changed. He was finally admitting to himself his feelings about the man, but he didn’t know how to talk to him. He’s so brilliant… And I don’t know if he likes men… Maybe he’s already in love with a 007 type spy or an astrophysicist! God, I am pathetic. With one last look at Mycroft, he murmurs a bogus excuse to John and walks to the door.

He was in the middle of the staircase when a well-known voice called. “Leaving already DI Lestrade?” Mycroft gestures to the whisky tumblers in his hands “One for the road?”

Walking back up the stairs until he was back on the landing, he mumbles “Yes…”

With a shy smile, Holmes sits on the step, leaving half of it for Greg. Once the detective besides him, he extends his hand to pass the whisky.

And they finally talk… Effortlessly, flirty … In their little world and not at all interrupted by the flat brouhaha.

A secret longing (150) 

Sherlock was slowly cleaning up the flat. I can’t believe it’s Boxing day already. Thinking about how the last evening went, he was mostly satisfied. Under the circumstances…

Mycroft and Sherlock were still shocked by what happened. John wasn’t fully comfortable with the events also, being put at the bottom of a well can do that, and his view of the Holmes' family drastically change with the addition of the psycho sister and a clearer view of the Holmes’ wealth. The first real discussion post-Sherringford started with an incredulous “A bloody manor, Sherlock! Care to elaborate?”

The detective chuckles at the thought as he picks up glasses and beer bottles.  

He also invited their parents, but they quietly declined… Still pissed off at Mycroft! Lestrade stayed near him all night long, probably worried about the haunted expression he wears nowadays. Life is complicated… But Rosie was wonderful! The toddler, now able to walk, was a balm on everyone's wounds. A positive tribute to Mary. Sherlock pauses and took out his phone to check the photos he took.

Many of Rosie and everyone… But mainly of the doctor… My John… He places his fingers on the screen, nearly stroking the image.

A new year is coming… Maybe I can… But someone at the door interrupts his train of thoughts.

“Oh, hello brother!”

A secret battle (41)

Sherlock was sitting in his ‘new’ living room that actually looked exactly like a cleaner version of his old one. Bullet holes and all. He smiles, thinking about the ‘baby proofing’ that was discreetly done at the same time. Maybe it’s going to be useful one day…

“Are you ready, brother mine?” An attentive Mycroft asks, not wanting to startle the younger man. “It’s time…”

At these words, the detective felt a wave of panic… Why did I agree to that! Things can simply remain as they are… The weekly meeting with his psychiatrist was helping him go thru what happen in the last years, in the last months. In Serbia, with Mary, Magnussen, Culverton, Eurus… John. I’m better now, why must I risk everything! He can't ask me to do that…

Clearly reading his brother thoughts thru his trouble demeanour, Mycroft put a warm hand on his shoulder, “You must do this… It cannot go on like this. I know that you are both in a better place than months ago, but you must stand up and express your boundaries.” After a pause he adds, “You won’t be able to go forward with… whatever you want your relationship to become if you don’t put your foot down.”

Rising from his chair, Sherlock exhales slowly, painfully… “All right then. Into battle…”

For the rest of the story: With a little help from your friend

A secret message (219)

Sherlock was reading Goldman's The Princess Bride – his recently recovered childhood memories are surely responsible for that! – when he looks up at the sound of Mrs. Hudson opening the door. Maybe it’s him …

He knew that John accepted Greg’s list of therapists, that he started seeing someone a day after their confrontation, was dedicated to his anger management group as well as his therapy.  They hadn’t talked, or texted, or emailed for the last two months.

8 weeks, 2 days and 10 hours…  

Closing his eyes, Sherlock focusses on the conversation below the stairs when he hears well-known steps walking up the stairs. Oh God, it is really him…

A light knock on the door, a small ‘come in’ and John was in front of him. Sherlock was absorbing everything. He’s calm, well-rested, a bit shy… and flowers?

“Sherlock… I won’t stay long. I am here to say thank you. Pushing me away was courageous and what was needed… I’m doing better now, really and..." He pauses. "If you want, only if you're ready… Maybe we can start... texting?" He extends his hands to give the flowers to Sherlock. “I know it's silly, but I know... stupid... but you know about this kind of things... flowers...”

Silent, but bursting with happiness, Sherlock simply nods as he looks knowingly at the bouquet.

*  A wild bouquet of peonies, bluebells, Alstroemeria, yellow roses... A mix of friendship and asking for forgiveness symbolism. But as the florist isn't daft, she puts some few orange roses as well for an undertoned of passion and desire ;-)

A secret trap (13)

Looking for a way to definitively "lure" John back, the only coherent thought Sherlock was able to formulate was: I need a case!

A really good one... One good enough to be in his blog!  Sherlock was evaluating the degree of strangeness as well as the level of possible danger of each case. Reading the email he received late last night, he thought Maybe this one will do it? At first glance, a seven or eight on the level of quirkiness but perfectly very low on peril. John is a father now, I must think about his security. Setting up a meeting in the morning with the man, Jabez Wilson, the detective went back to his experiment.

At precisely 9AM, Mr. Wilson presented himself at 221b. His tale of secret society, red haired men and an old American giving money to write down the Encyclopaedia Britannica was so perfectly absurd that he texts John discreetly in the middle of it to come as soon as possible if available.

John's quick 'Be there in 15min' gives him a warm feeling.

He doesn't need to know that I'm planning to trap him! If he's willing to go with it, it's going to be the first real case since Eurus. 

What's better than a mystery to hasten the return to our life from before...

A secret kiss (55)

One night, after an hard case that left them exhausted, Sherlock uncustomary falls asleep on the sofa.

“Sherlock…” John, a little less tired as he actually slept the night before, tried to wake up his friend. “It was raining, you can't sleep in your clothes, you’ll catch a cold… I’m leaving for my place and I don’t want you to sleep like that…”

The only response was a grunt that clearly sound like a ‘fuck off’. With a deep sight, John removes the coat of the sleeping detective and put it away. Wanting his friend to have a nice long rest for once, he removes his shoes and his blazer. Looking at the man, a surge of something that strangely resembles love spreads in his chest.

Before he goes, he decides to at least open the buttons of his cuffs and take out his shirt from his trousers… His hands, on their own accord, didn’t resist the urge of touching the smooth skin of… What! Removing his hands from under the shirt quickly, John pushes the soft cotton up a little… Oh My God… What did they do to you? Pulling unconsciously the shirt in place, John place a soft kiss on Sherlock shoulder blade.

Until he talks to me about this… he can never know that I’ve seen his back…

A secret question (Part 1) (191)

“John!” Sherlock lifts his head from his computer. “How are you?”

Blushing, the doctor looks not totally at ease… “I used the new key you gave me the other day, you told me that I… And… Yeah, so. Sorry, am I interrupting something important? I can come back later and…”

“No, no, nothing important.” The detective rapidly closes the laptop ending without warning the conversation he was having with a (now angry) French detective from Interpol. Probably shouldn’t have done that! “Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

A few minutes later, they were in their chairs, drinking tea sharing contented sighs. It’s been getting better over the last months, but putting all their feelings on the table as suggested by their respective therapists has been difficult. The result was an uneasiness that wouldn’t go away. The last step was the hardest…

“Never felt relaxed at my place as I do here…” John murmurs, lost in his thoughts. “It's strange when I think about that.” I feel like I'm home.  

The domestic setting brought a smile to John’s face. I just need to find the courage to ask! He slowly surveys the flat. The old things, the new things that remind of the old, the new new things that Sherlock chose carefully – sometimes with his help - when the flat was rebuilt after the bomb.

A secret question (Part 2) (192)

“What is it?” Sherlock asks, smiling as well. How I wish for them to be here with me, always. Is it too soon? “The little smile?”

“Nothing… Just that I am happy for the break. I’ve been cleaning the flat like crazy since I decided to sell it.”

“Oh… right. Do you need help with… things like… boxes?” Sherlock frowns at the foreign idea of what someone needs to do when putting a flat on the market.

Chuckling, John replies, “no, it's fine, don’t worry.” He continues more seriously, “there’s something that I want to ask…” but the detective didn’t hear as he talks over the doctor's voice.

“I was thinking about something…”

They laugh and ask at the same time “What?” before laughing again.

Sherlock's courage suddenly weakens. I am silly, of course he would never… “Sorry, I’ve interrupted you. What were you saying?”

“I… Oh, Go,d I don’t know how I can even ask you… but…” John stops, inhales profoundly and asks quickly, “can I come back to Baker Street?”

Blinking, his friend asks slowly, “with Rosie?”

“Of course with Rosie. You know she’s not going anywhere for the next 20 years or so…”

“I was… I was planning to ask you but I thought that you… Never… But, of course, I want you – both of you – back.”

A secret all-nighter (161)

“G’night Sherlock…” John says as he walks to his bedroom, where Rosie was asleep. It was the first night following his return. Suddenly, he steps back in the living. “We’re all good, right?” As the detective smiles and nods, the doctor smiles softly as well and chides tenderly, “don’t stay up too late,” before going up the stairs.

Sherlock's gaze falls on the dying fire… he was in no rush to go to bed. Happy to catalog everything that has happened in recent days. His eyes turn on the boxes that are still waiting in the corner of the room. Rosie’s things, some kitchen items and books, mostly. Sherlock remembers fondly how John laughed merrily when he said that they didn’t need anything kitchenwise as 221b was already well stocked. He frowns slightly. I still don’t understand why it was funny!

Looking at the ceiling, he imagines Rosie asleep in her cot, while John gets ready for bed. A warmth spreads in his whole body at the idea. He listens closely, until he hears the click of the bed-side lamp. There… he’s in bed. Home. Not wanting to lose a moment of that first day, Sherlock stayed up nearly all night long…

John finds him still asleep in the sofa, a peaceful smile on his lips.

Today, our new life began.

Chapter Text

A secret destination (171)

“What are you listening to?” Sherlock falls theatrically on the sofa, near John.

“One of those quizzes… right now, they need to find where the other one would like to go if money was not a problem.”

“Sounds boring.”

Rolling his eyes, John laughs “Shut-up! Rosie is finally asleep… I want to relax without any drama…”

Not watching the telly at all, Sherlock mind starts a trip around the world… The places where he’s been for so-called fun, the places where he went when he was chasing Moriarty's web, the places where he wants to go one day. That little island at the edge of the Pacific where the notion of criminality does not exist, or that prison in Russia where the inmates are the most violent murderers in the world… But it wasn’t right, nothing was thrilling enough to make him go through the trouble of packing a suitcase. No, I don’t want to go elsewhere, anywhere with John forever is all that I dream of. He snaps out of his reverie when John gives him a little tap on the shoulder.

“What?”

“You didn’t hear me at all…” John sighs before continuing. “And you, where would you want to go if anywhere was possible?”

Knowing that the real answer wasn’t what John needed right now, Sherlock improvises quickly.

“Barcelona.”

A secret ship (95)

"Sherlock?" An annoyed doctor calls from his desk. He was glued to his screen, not able to look away of the various stories and artwork in front of his eyes. Oh God… This is quite something. This is soooo not right…

it’s like I’ve never been married at all! And what about Rosie?… I don’t want her to see all that. Oh… But that one with both of us with Rosie in our arms... it's pretty sweet… "SHERLOCK!”

"Hummm?" His distracted friend replies, his eyes still riveted on his experiment.

"It's crazy, someone on my blog just pointed me in the direction of a shipper fan page!" 

At the slightly out of breath tone of his friend, Sherlock turns to look at an obviously embarrassed John. Weird. "Shipper? What the hell is that?"

"They... they... sh… ship US!" John stutters, nearly screaming the last word.

"I don't understand! Why? Where? Are they criminals that want to get rid of us? If so... they better be more discreet... And why don’t they just kill me? As long as they don’t threaten Rosie!" He returns to his work mumbling, "and if they want to ship someone somewhere... they can start with Mycroft..."

John smiles at Sherlock incomprehension, thinking If such a site exists, Greg will probably the first who would want to belong!

A secret visit from Harry (64)

"Are you in love with my brother?"

Harry Watson was waiting, an inquisitive look on her face. It was her first time inside 221b and she was looking curiously around her. Sherlock regains his composure quickly.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business. You should talk to John if…”

“No, he won’t tell me the truth… I’ve tried.”

“The truth?”

“That he’s in love with you, you daft! Seriously, for a genius and a doctor, you’re both morons.”

This is weird, she looks sober...  

“I’m not drunk, don’t try to analyze me!” She laughs derisively. “The last few years have been… fucking… terrible. You have no idea how it was when you… left.”

“I think I do, I’m not that daft…”

“I still don’t understand how you let him marry that woman… I don’t know everything, but I know that he shouldn’t have. Even if I love Rosie from the bottom of my heart… it was a mistake. And now he’s available…”

“You don’t know what you are talking about… I am the last person he needs in his life right now and anyway, John has stated many times that he’s not gay.”

She walks to the door, laughing merrily at the stupidity of men in general and these two in particular. “I have one thing left to say: bisexual.”

A secret can hide another one... (8)

The doctor found Sherlock hiding place by 'chance' while moving something in the flat. Devastated, he always thought that this was over, he closes his eyes trying to think rationally. He knows that an addict will remain an addict but the proof that his friendship wasn't enough... enough to keep him away from the boredom. That the fear of losing what they have, this hectic companionship, wasn't enough!

He puts the kettle on, calmly getting 2 cups from the cupboard. And wait. I'm feeling like I'm in a bloody 'Interventions' TV show!

Half an hour later, his friend storms into the kitchen with a package from Molly in his hands. He raved about the rare specimen when he saw the little box in the middle of the table. No... I'm not ready for this discussion!

"John! It's not what you're thinking! I haven't been using since that... Culverton Smith's affair."

"Why? Why do you keep that in OUR flat! Rosie..."

"It was impossible for her to stumble on it and you know it! I took great care that..."

"I don't want to know how but why!"

"It's only one dose... carefully measured... I'm not using!"

"Why?"

"It's only... it's only a backup plan..."

"WHY?"

 "If something happens to you... I won't be able to cope... John... I'm not strong enough..." 

"Bullshit!"

A secret meeting (50)

“What is the problem, now, brother mine?” An exasperated Mycroft Holmes says while opening the door of 221b.

“Sherlock is not there…” Following the silky voice, Sherlock's brother turns to look in the kitchen where DI Gregory Lestrade was calmly making tea, like he owns the place.

“Inspector, nice to see you.” Unconsciously he stretches his already tall frame. “But, what are you doing here?” A puzzled Mycroft asks.

“Don’t know,” Lestrade shrugs his shoulders, “I received a text from an unknown number that I must come to 221b at once…” I’ve stopped asking questions a few years ago when it comes to the Holmes boys.

“Me too, I’ve been warned by… someone, that my brother needed me…” I’m going to kill Anthea myself and have her buried under her ugly real name!

Laughing, realizing that it was a set-up, Greg moves to the living with two tea cups. He bends to put them down on a table, noting that the government man was clearly enjoying the view… "Come here, Mycroft.” Oh it felt good to say his name casually.

Stuttering, Mycroft replies finally, “but, Inspector, I must contact Sherlock… who knows maybe…”

With a predatory smile, Greg walks until he can feel the other man's breath on his face… “It’s Greg. And right now, Mycroft, we don’t need your brother…”

A (not so) secret praise! (115)

John was silent, watching his friend arguing with Lestrade. As usual the detective was brilliant, superb, sexy, intelligent… God, I wanna be yours so so much. I just need a sign, something to prove that I’m not mad! That I am not alone in this. That I am not misreading the signs!

The memories of his life with Mary were fading out to a faraway place in his mind, he was ready for something new. And now, he’s clearly aware of who and what he wants!

I won’t lose the chance that we have to start over again… I want everything that he’s willing to give to me and Rosie. He eyes fall back on Sherlock, who was still demolishing Lestrade's argument piece by piece. I can’t believe that someday he could be mine. That we could be a family. He’s so damn sexy! Wonderful, kind in his fucked-up way, sensual… Those fitted trousers of his! It’s not fair, so beautiful and…

Suddenly, both men turn toward John. Oh shit! I talked out loud! What did I say? What did I say?

Greg, in an incredulous voice, asks, “Doctor Watson… really?” He starts laughing merrily when he spins back to look at a perplexed Sherlock.

“John…” The detective says with a discreet, but flattered tone, “did you just call me… bodacious?”

A secret request (104)

“What happened?” An unusually frazzled Mycroft rushes into the flat as John was cleaning Sherlock's wounds.

“Nothing to worry Mycroft, your brother just got a few scratches...” The doctor calmly states as the detective flew to his bedroom with a “Good grief Mycroft! It’s just a scrape!" not wanting to be coddled by his big brother.

“Great… great… good to know. Thanks, doctor…” But the man was looking intently at Greg who was sitting at the kitchen table, his arm in a sling. “And… you… hum… Detective inspector Lestrade?”

The policeman raises his head, still buzzed by the pills he was given an hour ago. “Splendid!” He looks amorously at Mycroft “I’ve been shot in the arm… I think.” He frowns, looking down at the sling. “YES! In the arm!” His face suddenly illuminated with a proud smile. “Love… You know… I’m doing all my own stunts.” And he starts laughing, completely lost to the world.

Seeing that his boyfriend was all right, even if quite high, Mycroft regains his composure and looks at John. “Doctor, if you could…”

“Don’t worry Mycroft. I won’t say a word… But you know Sherlock’s not an imbecile.”

“Yes, I know…” The older Holmes sighs profoundly. “But I… We wish to stay secret for as long as possible.”

John laughs, knowing perfectly the reason behind.

A secret flaw (120)

“You called?” Lestrade enters the flat with a cocky smile, the one that always sent butterflies directly to Mycroft’s stomach.

In a panic, Mycroft jumps on Greg, “Yes! I’ve got a problem… and I need your help!”

“Oh, that looks serious…” The policeman's face turns grey. “Something happens to one of them?”

“No, no, sorry… it’s just that I was here drinking tea with Sh…” He quickly rephrases “I was ARGUING with my brother when they both left quickly for a case.”

“Okay… and this is a problem because?” A confused Greg asks.

“Ms. Hudson is not there and…”

“Yes… and…”

“They left me with… the baby!”

Greg, unable to control himself, start laughing merrily at Mycroft expense. “Come on, Uncle Mycroft!, she's only a toddler!”

“Children are like dangerous animals… I am not well equipped to deal with a… baby panther.” Mycroft mutters, ashamed of admitting a secret flaw.

“Don’t worry Myc’, I’ll help you! Children are not that difficult…” He turns his gaze towards the back of the room where Rosie was asleep in a portable cot. “But for now… there’s nothing to do except wait for her to wake up…” He pushes Mycroft onto the sofa playfully, sitting beside him before he starts kissing him.

“Ohhhhhh…” Mycroft sighs… “I think I may finally see some perks to babysitting…”

A secret goldfish (85)

“You’re looking well, brother, mine…” They were drinking tea, the flat comfortably silent as John was at work and Rosie at school. “Not being alone suits you…” Mycroft sighs, looking reservedly in his teacup.

“I must be careful, I’m becoming as fat as a lazy cat…” Sherlock chuckles, knowing that the stone he has put on the last few years is far from making him fat… even if he had to add a size or two to his clothes!

“It becomes you, being… healthier. And I am certain that it pleases your doctor tremendously.”

The detective smiles “Yes, it is… You are looking good yourself, more… I don’t know… content?” The older Holmes was now looking fairly uncomfortable. After a few minutes, Sherlock recalls a conversation they had years ago and asks with an innocent smirk, “Have you found yourself… a goldfish?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!” His brother protests loudly, his mind wandering to Gregory Lestrade… They had been seeing each other a few months now. It was a miracle that Sherlock hadn’t figured it out yet! I should find a way to express my attachment discreetly… A new phone? Matching watches or cufflinks? No… something more unique, permanent and special.

Looking at his older brother with affection, Sherlock grinned. “Anyway… Whatever the reason, nowadays you’re beaming!”

A secret feeling (193) 

Sherlock enters the living room, thinking about what he learned from the witness. So, it wasn’t Thomson… But he lost his concentration as John bangs the door with more force than necessary. “I’m trying to catch a murderer here!”

“Yeah… I know… By all means necessary…” John mutters as he walks into the kitchen for tea. Sod that! I need a whisky!

Sherlock frowns. “What’s going on? Have I done anything wrong?” Again? I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but it must stop right now! John has been back at Baker Street for a few months now, at first everything was fine, perfect even, but in the last months, John's attitude changed drastically. He was often lost in his thoughts, goes out for long walks when Rosie is sleeping… He’s avoiding me!

John, finally summons up the courage and utters angrily, “was it really necessary to act like that ?”

“Like what? I don’t have a clue of what…”

“Thomson, why did you flirt with him like… like...” Like you mean it! Like you were really attracted!

“Like a homosexual? Homophobia, really?”

“No! Of course not… How could you think that…”

“So what’s wrong?”

“NOTHING!” John, panicking at the idea that Sherlock may recognize his feelings, runs out of the flat, and keeps running until he’s safely on the sidewalk.

Barefoot.

A not so secret relationship (101)

“I’m missing something and it’s driving me crazy!” Sherlock was pacing around his friend.

Greg quickly becomes pale and sweaty.  No… not yet… I want to be in peace with Mycroft a bit longer. I know that I asked a lot, being under the scrutiny of the second smarter man in UK! But… Having Sherlock as a brother-in-law, it’s going to be a nightmare between the constant sniggering and the threat to my physical integrity if I cause Mycroft pain or sadness!

John, who was in the kitchen fixing tea, smiles at Greg. He has known for months that Greg and Mycroft are now a couple… It’s so obvious! I can’t believe Sherlock is still unaware of it…

“I got it!” Sherlock finally shouts gleefully.

Greg glances at Mycroft with worried eyes while his boyfriend simply looks smug. The older Holmes happy that the masquerade is over. Finally, all this is going on for too long, we are both adults! I can’t believe we pull it this long… Sherlock is going to be mad for few days but it's ok.

“New shampoo! Thank God, it was driving me crazy!” He sits in his chair, looking at the files Greg brought with him muttering, “but Mycroft, I don’t understand how you can deal with Greg smelling like that cheap generic brand from Boots.”

A secret talk (158)

“Hi.” The DI was stepping slowly inside the flat “You want to see me?”

“Hello…” Sherlock says with a devious smile. “Come in Greg… I’ve made tea!”

Oh God… My name... Tea…  What’s going on?  He sits nervously on the sofa.

The detective puts the tea set on the table. “Here you go…”

“What do you want, everything all right?” Greg decides that a direct approach was the best one!

“Oh, everything is ok, John and Rosie are doing well… No, nothing's wrong.” He smirks as he sips his tea. “But… I’ve got a question for you.” He sips again, taking his time then drops his smile to ask seriously. “What are your intentions towards my brother?”

Spitting out his tea, Greg quickly protests. “What the hell are you talking about! I do not… have ‘intentions’ regarding Myc’… your brother!” Is this for real, we are not bloody Victorians! We decided to keep our relationship low key for the moment, it is not his fucking business!

“Oh, I’ve been mistaken.” The detective grins, as Greg’s pink cheeks were giving him an honest reply.

Suddenly, Rosie opens the door and rushes towards Greg with glee “Uncl' Greg! Where’s Uncle Mycroft? Can we go to the park like yesterday?”

Sherlock starts laughing as his goddaughter left the living room, effervescent and bubbly.

A secret Christmas Card (130)

Shit. Lestrade was running up the stairs thinking about the text he received from his boyfriend a few minutes ago.  

Gregory, don’t worry, but I received your Christmas card and it was clearly for John and Sherlock. – MH

I hope mine was rated ‘G’ – MH

John opens the door with a big smile. “Hello, Greg!” He closes the door after Lestrade. “Making tea, want some?”

Greg, looking at the place where the post is usually piled, thanks the Christmas Gods as he saw his unopened Christmas card. “Yes mate, ta’. Where’s Sherlock?”

John was back in the kitchen, looking for a second clean mug “Shopping. Something about not enough candles for an experiment or something.”

Keeping an eye on the doctor, Greg walks backward toward the little table near the door to get the bloody card.

Greg and Mycroft were trying to stay as low profile as possible at the moment. I don’t want Sherlock to read the exact description of what I wanted to do to Mycroft for Christmas!

Extending his hand behind his back, he panics as he didn't feel the card. Turning his head slightly he somersaults as he spots Sherlock, standing under the threshold and reading the card with a smug expression.

“Seriously Greg, I don’t think my brother is flexible enough to do all that bending…”

A secret spectator! (94)

It’s in the way they are just happy, content in the domesticity of their life now that John is back in 221b with Rosie.

It’s in the way they talk to each other, that quiet tone, full of affection… Even arguments about mundane things like milk aren’t that convincing anymore!

It’s in the way they are always touching each other, too eagerly and too often for mere friends… Even more than before! Sherlock asking John to brings him the silliest thing just for the thrill of touching him and the doctor willingly extending the touch a tad too long.

It’s in the way they are utterly peaceful now, their demons far away… Tamed by discussions with their respective therapist.

It’s in the way they are taking care of each other, constantly. That Sherlock slows his pace when John is near him… John that always gets his tea just right… The concern about the other underlying each decision.

It’s in the way that Sherlock just adores that little girl, like his own…

It’s in the way that John never thought about dating anymore…

It’s in the timing that for once is just right!

“Could you please you two do something about this! It’s sickening!” Greg finally burst to his friends, thinking for the umpteenth time, How could they both be so blind!

A secret illumination 

“Sherlock?” I can’t believe I will need him for everything! Keeping his eyes closed for forty-eight hours following an incident at the surgery, going to be a challenge! Thank God, Molly took Rosie!

Sherlock was in the kitchen making tea. “Wait a minute, John, I’m just in the kitchen…” Watching his friend from the corner of his eye he saw him trying to reach ‘his’ chair. “Careful! Don’t sit down, ‘cause I’ve moved your chair!”

His words brought an unexpected flash of pain at the memory of another time, after his wedding, when Sherlock moved his chair… He asks, with a little uncertain voice “…Where is it?”

The detective, now intimately close, guides the doctor. “It’s right beside mine… I thought it would be preferable to have a clearer path to the kitchen for the next two days.” His voice was warm, caring, comforting.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

“You’ve done more for me… a thousand times.” John falls into his chair, his heart fluttering at his friend's deep emotional voice.

Sherlock, now in his own chair, was feasting on his friend's form, enjoying the rare opportunities to be able to scrutinize everything without being seen.

Lost in his contemplation, he jumps when John’s hand found his, interlocking their fingers.

They stay silent, just holding hands, the unspoken emotions leaving them temporarily bare…

A secret picture (70)

"JOHN! I need a tenner!"

After a minute, Sherlock asks again louder without any reply. Rolling his eyes, he runs up the stairs and enters the lounge. His friend wasn’t there but the sound of the shower running was resonating in the flat. Looking around, he finds John wallet on the coffee table, near his phone.

Looking at the bathroom door, he hesitates knowing that it was definitively a bit not good to open someone wallet. Except if it’s a criminal… But I need 10 pounds for the tips one of my informant just gave me. That information will probably stop a serious crime… I’m certain that helping to catch a criminal is as good as actually looking in a criminal's wallet?

Without hesitation, Sherlock opens the wallet to take ten pounds but before he closes it, the corner of a glossy picture catches his eyes. As the water was still running, Sherlock slowly pulls on a picture of… himself!  Where did he get that? Crime scene? I don’t recall… I’m so… content and peaceful. And why does he keep it in his wallet? I… I don’t understand. Sherlock puts down the wallet and runs down the stairs to give his informant the money.

Later, thinking about the photo, he smiles fondly... knowing that he was always near John surprisingly befitting.

A secret picture (Part 2) (72) 

Since that ‘picture business’, Sherlock was thinking about John. More specifically about what it represents that he kept a picture of him in his wallet.  

Why does he do that? We see each other every day now that he’s back home… He doesn’t need a reminder. I don’t understand… everything is dark and complicated… I don’t like it. Sherlock suddenly recalls that a picture of the doctor daughter was also in there.  John has one of Rosie also, but it’s normal because she’s important and that he loved her... I’ve got one of Rosie myself! Because she’s the most important little human in my life and I didn’t see her that much after… after Mary’s death. Should… should I keep a picture of him in my wallet too? Is this something that ‘friends’ do? 

A thought just pops in his head! And if John keeps a picture of Rosie because he loved her, does that mean that he… loved me? I hate being in the dark! I need something more tangible!

A ping distracted him from his chain of thoughts.

A gift, brother mine. Stop thinking and do something. MH

He opens the attachment, it was a perfect view of John looking discreetly at Sherlock. Gazing at him with admiration, adoration, lust…  love?

Sherlock smiles, his mind finally bursting with brightness.

Greg’s secret (114) 

“Lestrade is one of the honest people that I know…” He even stayed with his unfaithful wife for years, wanting to save his marriage!

“I don’t know… He’s hiding something… I’ve lost track of him a few times.” As Sherlock lifts an eyebrow, his brother protests. “It’s only for his protection! He was purposely avoiding the CCTV!” He puts his head in his hands, utterly defeated. I love him so much… It’s my fault I shouldn’t have… Suddenly the detective starts laughing merrily, looking at his phone.

“What so funny brother mine?” A glacial Mycroft asks.

“Nothing…” he replies with a smirk right before the older Holmes jumps on him to take away his phone. “GIVE IT BACK TO ME!” his frustrated young brother screams.

Opening the text application quickly Mycroft reads… 

He’s nearly crying. What have you done SH

Nothing! GL

Are you unfaithful? SH

No! GL

If you break his heart... SH

I’ve done nothing wrong! GL

You admit that you’ve done something. SH

Go to Hell Sherlock, this is personal. GL

Oh… I see. SH

No you see nothing you git! Don’t you dare tell him... GL

As Mycroft glares at Sherlock interrogatively, the door opens to a disheveled Greg Lestrade.

“GOD! You two! I wanted to do this more romantically, but… Mycroft... Will you marry me, babe?”

A secret motivation (79)

Sherlock was in the kitchen doing something slightly weird, as usual, when John enters the living room with decided steps.

“Run. Yeah. I’m going for a run!” He says, trying to convince himself probably as he puts on his trainers. “Could you check on Rosie if she wakes up?”

“Why?” A curious detective asks.

“Because I don’t want her to cry alone in her cot, you git!” The doctor replies with an affectionate smirk.

“Don’t be daft I won’t let her cry! Why are you going for a run?” He turns to watch his friend.

“It just that… I’m not as fit as I used to be. I’ve lost weight because… of everything but I’m not a young man anymore and… my army training is far gone…” Oh God, John, just shut-up!

“Oh… I understand.” He wants to date again… Of course… “Don’t worry I will take care of Rosie.” Sherlock went back to his beloved microscope, an impassable mask falling on his face.

“Uh… what do you understand?”

“Hum?” Sherlock mutters while looking at his notes.

“Everything ok?” What did I say? Ohhhh ridiculous genius. “I’m going, I need to be in shape… If I’m wanting to be able to keep up with you.” He winks at Sherlock and closes the door.

Winking... that's new, Sherlock thought, Could it be? 

A secret wish (61)

“Sherlock! Are you ready?”

John was hammering on his bedroom door, holding a fussy Rosie by the hand. We’re going to be late! To HIS brother's wedding! 

“I’m coming, don’t break anything…” The man finally opens the door. He was beautifully dressed, as usual, but with a hint of solemnity. He mutters “I hate ties, it’s the worst bloody…”

“SHERLOCK! Language!” John nods in the direction of his daughter who was very cute in a pink flowery formal dress and a bow in her hair. The doctor turns to get the bag with all the baby things and to mask the effect Sherlock had on him. Get a grip! He's only a friend!

Sherlock took the opportunity to look at John… He was in a beautiful dark suit, which is rare. His eyes and his blond and silver hair were shining in contrast. He looks dashing... And sexy. And utterly adorable with his little Rosie in his arms. And obviously clueless about the effect he has on me…

It’s been a few months now since John came back to 221b with Rosie, and Sherlock hasn’t found a way to open his heart to John… The risk of losing everything was too high.

Closing the door while John rushes down the stairs, he sighs, If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll catch the bouquet…

A well-known secret... (5)

"Sherlock! What have you done to my bedroom?" John asks as he storms into the living room. "The bed is wet as if litres of water were drop on it!"

Sherlock rises his eyes from his experiment and looks at John with the most believable clueless attitude! "I've done nothing of the sort John!"

"But I need somewhere to sleep, and I won't sleep on the couch in my own flat!"

"Sleep in my bed then and let me go back to my work." The detective then turns his back on his friend to go back to his microscope.

"In your... bed. But... and you?"

"There's plenty of place for two don't worry." He smiles slowly "We won't have to cuddle... if you don't want to. Anyway we... I mean I... won't sleep that much."

A speechless John walked slowly toward Sherlock bedroom with images of his gorgeous friend AND cuddling AND not sleeping in his mind. 

Seeing the confusion that was rising in his friend's mind, Sherlock uses his phone with a devious smile.

SH - It works, thanks

Ms.H - I've told you! You should have confided in me sooner...

Ms.H - But it was not a real secret my dear...

SH - Just don't say anything to my brother!

Ms.H - No problem, but you own me a new bed!

A secret knowledge (169)

John was waiting for Sherlock… I can’t believe how daft I’ve been! I should have known to not believe a word of what he said! He blushed as he recalls what happened at the surgery few hours ago.

The director was touring the clinic with an exchange intern from Denmark. Has the future doctor hold the door for John, he – wanted to be nice – thanked with a clear ‘Tak du, min elskede’. The Danish woman started to laugh merrily. “I’m sorry Doctor Watson, but I’m a married woman!” With a chuckle she added “You just said, 'thank you my love.'" 

To think that Sherlock has been saying that to me for months before he... before Bart's… It’s my turn to play with his mind a bit. He smirks at the noise of Sherlock climbing the stairs, before putting a calm face.

“Hello. Oh… tea!” Walking quickly to the kitchen to get the cup of tea that was waiting for him, Sherlock eyes the tray full of cookies on the kitchen table. His tea in hand, he walks back to the living, taking the tray with him. “Do you want a cookie?”

“Yes.” John pauses. “… Tak du, min elskede”

Sherlock freezes, not knowing if his friend… knew.

Without saying another word, John simply left the detective alone in the room, absolutely baffled.

Secret Post-it (12)

John found the first on the bookshelf: A small post-it with Sherlock writing on it but all scratched out. A day later in the laundry room, he finds another one in his dressing gown. Again, the words were unreadable. Not knowing what to do with it, you never know what's important!, he puts it on Sherlock's desk. Opening his drawer, he finds more of them...

More and more confused, the detective rarely writes down things as he simply puts them in his Mind Palace. What can be so important or confusing for Sherlock to actually write it down? And why write over the words like that? 

Slowly opening his friend's bedroom, he spots more post-its on the floor. Turning towards the window with one in hand, he realizes that it was easier to catch the original words against a source of light!

He runs back quickly to the living room to get the other ones and sticks them all on the window. Rapidly it appears to be a pro/con list...

• Losing my best friend
• Rejection
• He knows my worst
• Feeling complete
• Not gay
• He deserves better
• Unknown data
• He sees my best
• Companionship
• Settling for less
• I'm not enough
• Not lying anymore
• Trust

With each reading, John's faith raises a notch.

Is it possible? Sherlock wants us to become boyfriends?

A blogger's secret (11)

A morning, John was at the surgery while Sherlock, bored, checks his emails. An email from an anonymous address was in his Inbox, unopened. A simple sentence: “You should read this.”

After a thorough security check, Sherlock selects the link. It was simply a boring website, another blog more precisely. What’s that? This is just a day-to-day journal… Why should someone email me this?

He starts reading, quickly enthralled by the beauty of the words on the screen. It was simple thoughts about friendship, loss, grief, forgiveness, the joy of children, love… But the effort put in the soft anonymity of each word was not able to hide the longing.

After reading many posts, Sherlock senses similarity between what was written and… his life with John! He went back to the first post and realizes it was the week John went back to a therapist, few months before he returned to 221b.   Everything was there but subtly: the fear of losing a friend, the inane fight over the milk, the guilt over inexpressible action… the desire to find love again and the distress of being too late to express his affection to his dear friend.

A hopeful Sherlock wishes Is it possible? What should I do? 

Creating a message on the blog, he simply types, “I’d be lost without my blogger.”

A secret 'green' plan (128)

Doing something without Sherlock's knowledge was nearly impossible, so, when the git finally crashed on his bed following a week-long case, John enlisted the help of Ms. Hudson and went to work.

They spent the night decorating the flat for the upcoming Christmas party. Garlands, fairy lights, tinsel and mistletoe… everywhere!

“I hope it's going to work!” Ms. Hudson murmurs, not wanting to wake up Sherlock. But I still think that a more direct approach… She kept her reflection to herself, not wanting to distress John who was proud of his romantic gesture.

In the morning, he was frantic! How can he still be asleep! Come on, Sherlock, wake up! Suddenly, the door of the bedroom opened to reveal his already fully dressed friend. “Sherlock? What is it?”

“A case! Got to go!” He rushes to the door, pulling on his dark coat and grabbing his scarf before dashing out.

Shit. It was probably too subtle, John thinks, standing under a bunch of mistletoe. Anyway, who am I to compete with a case. It was silly, really… He was still at the same place a minute later, looking sad, when the door slams to the wall.

“Forgot something…” In three steps, Sherlock was in front of the doctor, placing a deep kiss on his lips before exiting, leaving John completely bemused.

No more secrets... (67)

One morning, John decides he'd had enough.

Enough of the secrets, enough of playing around with clues… That’s it, no more secrets!

Taking great care to not wake up Rosie, he jumps from the bed and went down to Sherlock’s bedroom door.

He was feeling restless, like his life was waiting on the other side. Opening the door was a fall into the unknown... He took a deep breath and opens the door slowly... quietly.

Sherlock was still asleep. The sheet and pillows all over the place… Good to know he’s also restless, John smirks. He walks inside, closes the door and sits on the edge of the bed. So many years… so many fights… so many adventures… It’s time to start the greatest of all. Oh God, I’m too romantic for my own good. 

He puts his hand on Sherlock back and strokes tenderly.

The curly mop of hair slowly turns “… John?”

“I know that you know it, but I want to make it official, real.” He smiles, “Sherlock Holmes, I love you.” He was now waiting anxiously, looking at his friend.

"I love you, John…” Sherlock gives John a tender kiss, pulling John to his side, “… is it as you expected?"

John now with his Sherlock in his arms, kisses him back... finally at peace. "It’s better… way better…"

Chapter Text

The secret watcher (25)

Hi, I am the flat. Yes, you’ve got it right, I AM 221b.

I know I shouldn’t be able to communicate but sometimes I burst with emotions and I can’t help myself. I know I could talk to 221a but stories about Ms.Hudson's bad hips are driving me mad! Of course, 221a talked to me about me about a sport car, but as we can’t double check that I don’t believe it.

Back to my lot. I’ve seen everything, even more than Mycroft Holmes!

I’ve seen Sherlock's joy when on a case, the unusually strong friendship that they formed, and the incredible amount of tea! (How can two men can drink so much tea!). The despair of John after Sherlock's disappearance and the solitude that followed. My door remained closed for years... Only the quick visits of Ms. Hudson saved me from boredom.

Sherlock came back… with loneliness, profound sadness and... the craziness of the wedding things all over my rooms! He cried so much, while looking at the proof that he was losing John forever… Poor man.

But, life is never simple with those two. After the drugs, the screaming, the tears… and a bloody explosion! (Looooove what they done with me by the way, much cleaner!). I am now happy.

Because all over me, love is finally blooming.

Unspoken secrets (103)

It was the morning after…

After the first kiss, after the first declaration of love, after the first… everything.

“John?” Sherlock's unusually small voice asks. “You… your life, your night, your mind, your heart, your daughter… I want it all. Forever.” Because if it’s not forever, I won’t be able… Won’t be able to cope with that darkness again. Won’t be able to go back to a life without you both. 

John places his head on Sherlock’s heart. Listening to the quick rhythm… Quicker than normal. “Relax, love. I want the same… I want everything that you want to give me and everything that you are currently thinking is too much in that bright mind of yours.” He puts his hand on the detective's torso, over the scar Mary’s bullet left. “I will never let anyone hurt you…” His voice broke, full of unexpressed shame. I will never hurt you... You deserved so much better than me… But if you truly accept me with all my flaws… “I want it all also. Forever and a day.”

“This is impossible… Forever is already ‘forever’ and…”

John laughs, softly silencing Sherlock with a kiss.

It wasn’t perfect, they both know that the things that left unsaid are more important that anything they may have said…

But it was the start of something brighter.

Secret stuffs (86)

Lestrade was in the flat, waiting for Sherlock while gossiping with Ms. Hudson.

“So… do you think something changed between them since John is back home?” Greg asks as quietly as possible.

“Oh… I wished for it for so many years! I know that they are friends and that they take care of Rosie together… But who knows! If they are a couple, why aren’t they saying anything?”

“Have you ever… Don’t know… Found them in a more than friendly position lets say?” The DI enquires, knowing that Ms. Hudson wasn’t prudish.

“No, not really…” She looks sad, as if she wanted to walk on them naked!

“Hear... anything?”

“No, I don’t think so, but my hearing is not as good as it was few years ago…” Ms. Hudson replies smiling.

“And with your soother…” Greg laughs merrily.

“Greg… don’t say things like that! It’s for my bad hip!” She laughs.

Suddenly, John walks out of the en-suite bathroom with a disheveled look. Looking at both his friends, he mutters “Sorry… I was doing… stuff…” and turns swiftly to take the stairs to his bedroom, his cheeks red.

Sherlock, coming out of his bedroom with a similar unkempt look, simply states with a smug look “Oh, hello Greg, I am stuff…” and walks to the kitchen simply dressed in a bedsheet.

A secret ingredient! (139)

John was surrounded by the sweet aroma of chocolate… Don’t tell me that Sherlock found his way to the oven! Smiling, he turns towards the kitchen to a table full of Yule logs! “Sherlock!” John calls, laughing. “What’s all this!”

The detective grimaces. “I was stuck at home waiting for one of my contacts… so I’ve made a list of what we need for Christmas Eve and as a Yule log is traditional, I decided to try to do one by myself…” He points at his computer, scandalized. “Do you know how many recipes are available? Plus YouTube tutorials?”

He spreads his harms over the various cakes like a magician. “Tada! I don’t know… it just… sort of… happened.”

Another time when Sherlock became a little frantic came back to John’s mind. The bloody serviette tutorials. Holding his boyfriend's hand in his own, he kisses him slowly. “You know, it’s simply a little party with our friends.  If you prefer, we can keep our relationship secret a little bit longer, it's no big deal. Honestly.”

The tranquillity in his partner's eyes appeases Sherlock. “I’m ready, truly…”

“Are you certain?” As his boyfriend nods, finally smiling in earnest, John frowns while looking at the logs. “Which one should I taste first, love?”

“Go with this one,” Sherlock chuckles. “It’s oozing with Baileys’!”

A secret relationship (148)

“Sherlock! We’re going to be late…” 

The tall man was standing in his parents’ lobby, pouting. “Ridiculous, to make us go outside on such a cold night to go sit in an equally freezing church. If it was my choice I…”

“Don’t even think about it, love, it’s the Holy Night, we’re going to the mass. The church in the village is really pretty and your parents want to show you off.”

“But…” He whines. He wanted to stay home while his parents were out for a spectacular making out session! Such a bother that John wants to stay discreet for a little while. It’s hard to stay calm when I want to kiss him all the time! It’s only been a few days, but he wants everyone that counts to know about them!

“Hurry!… Your parents are already outside with Rosie!”

It was a beautiful night. Sherlock starts walking, quickly getting in front of his parents. Realizing that John was shivering, he murmurs. “Your coat is not warm enough, you don’t have gloves…” Without saying a word, John puts a hand in Sherlock's coat pocket and presses his side against him to be warmer.

Walking a few meters away, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes start smiling knowingly at the display of affection, happy to see their son and his doctor so beguiled.

A secret endearment (121) 

“Do you need something from the shops?” The eternal question, John smirks internally. Go on, surprise me! A giant squid, a litre of pig’s blood…

“Nothing, thanks, honey.” Sherlock replies absentminded.

Warmth spread rapidly in John’s heart. Their relationship was shifting towards a romantic one recently… but endearment? He never thought that it was Sherlock type. That’s new… and… Oh. My. God! Are we really doing that? “Sherlock… Honey?”

Sherlock, realizing what he just said, turned a pretty shade of pink. “Oh! Right.… We need honey. And maple syrup. And black treacle. And butter.” The detective mumbled quickly, trying to minimize what he just said.

With a kind smile, John softly kisses Sherlock to push his confused look away. “It’s okay, better than okay. I love terms of endearment… And I know that you looooooooove honey.” He presses his lips on Sherlock forehead. “So it’s definitively okay with me.“

“I don’t want you to feel pushed or… You can call me just Sherlock. No need to…”

“Shush… Love… Don’t worry. Everything is perfect.”

A hopeful Sherlock repeats, “Love?”

“Yes… My love…” John voice was affectionate and just a bit possessive.

“I like it…” A brilliant smile spreads over the detective's face.

Walking back in the kitchen, John cautiously peers into the fridge. “Love, are you sure we really need more butter?"

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 1) (177)

“What are you doing?” Mycroft, clearly laughing at his brother, was standing in the middle of the living room. Sherlock was surrounded by his and John’s computers as well as restaurant menus, maps of Paris, Venice and Québec City… Clearly flustered and on the verge of panic!

“Calm yourself, brother mine… What’s all this?”

With a desperate growl, the detective falls into his chair, moaning. “It’s Molly’s fault!”

Failing to see how the mousy yet competent pathologist can be the source of all this turmoil, Mycroft repeats. “Doctor Hooper?”

“Yes!” Sherlock confirms impatiently. “She told me that as we… John and I… Now… Are a…”

“A couple, yes. Keep breathing, ‘Lock.”

Sherlock finally utters rapidly “He’s-going-to-expect-something-for-that-blasted-day!”

“Which day?”

“Valentine’s Day!” Looking at his brother with disbelief, he growls, “Do keep up!”

With a smile, the politician took one of the brochures. “Québec City is under a meter of snow at this time of the year… Quite impractical!”

“Don’t laugh! I want to be good at the boyfriend thing.”

Seeing how his brother was trying, Mycroft explains. “He loves you for yourself!” As Sherlock rolls his eyes, Mycroft stops to think about John Watson. “You know… I think John will prefer simple things that show how you care…”

“But what?”

“It’s simple… Think about what he asks from you. And do better.”

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 2) (178)

Sherlock was all alone in the flat. Something that John asked... But do it better... What could I do better! Taking out his phone, he quickly scrolls through a month's worth of the dozen or so texts they exchange each day. One thing was always coming up: The bloody milk…

Love you… We need milk. JW

No milk left for my tea this morning! JW

Could you please for once go to the store and get milk?!? JW

Okay... I found something that I could definitively work on! Grabbing his coat and scarf he rushes to the nearest Tesco.

Once in the aisle, the store's variety was overwhelming... How many bloody types of milk do humans need! First, the 'cow' variety... Even if it's stupid when you think about it, we are neither veal nor an infant. Okay, focus! Skimmed, semi-skimmed, whole, organic or not, 1%, Pure filter... What the Hell is 'Pure filter'? Internally screaming, sweating for no reason at all, he stands in the aisle for an hour before he was kicked out.

When John came back from the surgery he found nearly 30 litres of milk in the fridge… all slightly different! What the hell... "Are you doing an experiment on milk?"

"NO!" Sherlock screams in frustration, thinking about the UHT milk he had hidden under the bed.

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 3) (179)

Sherlock was still disgruntled by the 'milkgate' and was lost in his thoughts when John places his hand around his waist for a goodbye kiss.

"Going to work, anything special today?"

"Bart's, probably, Molly texted me about a hand that..."

"Okay!" John laughs. "Don't want to know! Just don't put it right above Ms. Hudson’s casserole!" He kisses him again before dashing to work. 

Frowning, Sherlock thought about body parts and experiments in the fridge... Maybe I could do something about it? Labels? Heavy duty containers? He quickly realizes that the best solution was a second fridge…

Looking online, he finds the right size to contain everything without taking too much places. And they were able to deliver it right away. It's perfect!

Getting over himself, he starts to clean the 'food fridge' thoroughly, putting his things into the small new one. 

After three hours of scrubbing, satisfied of all his hard work, he finally sits in his chair with a cup of tea.

Few hours later, John was looking at the new acquisitions with a big smile. “Wow! Great idea! To celebrate I will open a good bottle of cold… SHERLOCK!”

“What?”

“You left the fridge unplugged! Everything is warm and spoiled!” The doctor screams, trying to see what can be salvaged while dumping the tuna casserole into the bin…

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 4) (180)

The morning after Greg called about something weird at the London Zoo, they quickly ate breakfast (Not a lot of things available as John had put the bacon and eggs in the bin…) and walked out of the flat.

His mind already focusing on the case of the missing priceless snake, Sherlock was walking quickly in front of John.

“You know love, nothing wrong will happen if we take a little bit more time… The bloody snake is already missing.” John scoffs. I don’t know what’s happening with Sherlock… We’re good, no? Ok, I’ve been a little bit harsh with the fridge situation but I made up for my impatience last night… Two times!

As they walk Sherlock's mind went back to yesterday's fiasco… I don’t understand! It shouldn’t be that complicated! John remark about the swiftness of his steps finally infiltrated is thoughts. Oh! That I can do easily! And maybe we can hold our hands… Without any warming, the detective stops walking altogether to wait for John without thinking that the doctor, who was nearly running, was just behind him.

And…

John rushes into Sherlock, losing his balance on the icy path and… falls to the ground heavily. “For God sakes! Sherlock! What’s wrong with you! You’re a fucking menace!”

Sherlock's heart sinks as John was rubbing his bum.

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 5) (181)

After the fiascos over the last three days, Sherlock was restless. Taking out his phone, he taps a text to Mycroft.

It’s all your fault. SH

Overthinking, brother mine? MH

I am a Holmes, overthinking is my middle name! SH

Keep it simple. MH

Looking at the last text with a disgusted glare Sherlock falls into his Mind Palace to work on various extraordinary scenarios. Hours later, John shakes his shoulder softly. “Love… Heart to Sherlock… I’m starting a sappy movie, do you want to watch it with me?”

That’s a good idea, he smiles nodding with enthusiasm, I will remain focused and won’t disrupt the movie as usual. Suffering thru an inane story is definitely a sign of how deep lyI love him! He cannot not find that romantic!

The movie starts and they cuddle together on the sofa… Staying quiet, even if it was hard, Sherlock was happy that his plan was working… unaware of John worries over the detective unusual silence. Have I done something wrong? The best bit of movie night is Sherlock commentary about all the plot holes, bad SFX and horrible acting! Is he… tired of me? Of us?

When the (purposely awful) movie ends, Sherlock watched John rise to go to bed lost in his thoughts without even giving him a goodnight kiss…

Bummer!

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 6) (182) 

The morning after, John was still wincing lightly but left for work anyway. I can’t believe how unlucky I am… What can I do now?  Sherlock sighs. He runs down the stairs to knock on his not-his-housekeeper-my-dear door.

“It’s seven in the morning young man!” Ms. Hudson frowns. “I hope for your sake this is serious… And close that bathrobe tightly! You’re like a son for me, I don’t want to see your manly bits!”

“I need to do something nice for John but I don’t know what.” His puppy eyes win the old lady over.

“Come in, Sherlock…” Later, after a good cup of tea, the woman suggests a lovely night out, flowers, nice gifts, being more considerate…

 But it went from bad to worse…

 Sherlock decided to do a big cleanup of the flat… and ends-up binning some of John’s important papers.

He planned an elaborate supper but burned down the table with the fondue set…

He did all the washing and put his boyfriend's favourite wool jumper in the dryer…

He offers to go out to the pub to watch football but falls asleep on the bar after one drink and before the match had even begun!

It was already the 12^th! With no ideas of what to do next, Sherlock was ready to go to Bedlam!

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 7) (183)

On the 13th, Sherlock was mentally exhausted! Nothing worked… Why is this complicated!

Knowing that John wasn’t far away, he murmurs in Rosie’s ear “Darling, what should I give to your daddy for Valentine’s Day?”

“Kisses!” The little girl laughs, with a conspiratory tone. “And chocolates!”

“Yeah… That I could do.” He smiles… and sights. “Without killing John I hope.” He took Rosie in his arms and sits her on the countertop. “Time to wash your face, little lady!”

He was tickling her relentlessly while cleaning her face, causing tons of giggles and laughter as John walks out of the bathroom. Looking at the man of his life, the way he simply loves his daughter as if she was his own fills him with joy, with pride. His heart swelled, full of love. “Having fun?”

Chortling, Rosie wasn’t able to talk properly. “Dadddddddddddddy! Papaaaa is… is… not… stopppppppping!” Before having another fit of hilarity.

Still unused of being called ‘Papa,' Sherlock suddenly stops and lays his hands on either side of Rosie to keep her safe on the high surface, unsure of what to do next.

Passing behind him, John kisses the detective's nape, just below the edge of his pajama collar. “Got to go… love you.”

“Love you daddy... and papa!” She kisses Sherlock “Now, can I have my books!”

Valentine's Day secrets (Part 8) (184) 

Sherlock opens his eyes. It’s today. Turning at his left, he realizes that John was already awake. Eyes glued on Sherlock’s face, a scheming smile on his lips. “Hello, love. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Yes… it’s today.”

The doctor frowns. “Why are you so sad?”

“I’ve tried so hard in the last days but…”

John lets go a chuckle, “Oh, that’s why all my jumper is too small!”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, love, it’s really sweet that you’ve tried so hard, it means that it was important for you…” He kisses him lovingly. “Rosie is with Mrs. Hudson and as you know I have the day off…”

“Maybe we can do something nice.” Sherlock's eyes twinkled with mischievousness. “I thought of something yesterday…”

“Is it outside the bedroom?” John asks with a sexy grin.

“The indoor activities are for later today… Mrs. Hudson is keeping Rosie for a sleepover.” Sherlock chuckles. “Right now we can go for brunch then I found a few places that I think you’re going to love…”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise...!” Getting up, he winks at his partner. “Are you coming? I am so clumsy nowadays… I may need help to wash myself!”

“If I must…” John sighs theatrically. “I’ve also planned something for tonight, as well as a little surprise…”

“John! You bought my favourite bubble bath!”

Little bonus:

*What they did on V-Day*

Sherlock wants to bring John to places where the doctor has never been, even if it's something that he will certainly like! After a good brunch, the Old Operation Theatre, a really nice but a bit creepy medicine museum (http://oldoperatingtheatre.com/) then a visit to the newly renovated Imperial War Museum (https://www.iwm.org.uk/) followed by a nice supper at Angelo's.

John, for his part, reserved a night time Jack the Ripper Walk with London's best guide (http://www.walks.com). Private, so Sherlock will have the possibility to question and argue as often as he want!

And after that... back to the flat for the rest of the evening ;-)

A secret praise (77)

"Are you sure about that?" Sherlock was looking at the thing in the corner of the flat.

"Yes!" John chuckles.  "Don’t worry I’ll take care of it!" He looks at his new acquisition.

"But it’s enormous…!" His boyfriend protests.

"This is why it’s so nice!" He turns towards the detective. "It’s the latest trend!"

Sherlock laughs. "Since when ‘trendy’ is important in this flat!" He smiles fondly. “Have you discovered your inner designer? Maybe you should keep playing with your hair instead!”

“Cheap shot love! I know you love the way I wear my hair now.” Adding with a smirk “You can talk, Mister Holmes with your GQ style suits…”

The tall man points at the massive fiddle leaf fig. “It’s gigantic… And it’s GREEN!”

“It’s staying! It’s good to clean the air!” And God knows we need it sometimes!

“No! It’s not fair! I can’t grow molds but you want to keep that horror!”

Unseen by the two arguing men, Rosie walks towards the plant, her little hands trying to do a bouquet with the big leaves… When… Crash!

“Rosie! Look at what you’ve done! You broke the trunk!”

Sherlock pulls the toddler in his arms. “I knew that Rosie had more common sense than you John! Are you okay, darling?” Sherlock murmurs in her ear. “Well done, my perfect little bumblebee!”

Permanent secret (2)

It was after a case that left them victorious but soaked by a pouring rain.

The boys were in 221b trying to dry their clothes. It was easy for John and Sherlock, being in their flat, but Greg was in such a state that he borrowed clothes from the doctor.

Greg was in the kitchen trying to catch something from the upper shelf when something caught John's eyes. "Greg? What the hell..." 

"What?" replies the DI just before he realizes and turns his backside toward the counter before muttering "Shut up John!"

"Not a chance... SHERLOCK? Come here quickly!" John said loudly before walking near Greg.

The detective, in one of his habitual dressing gown, walks into the kitchen with a questioning look.

"I just want you to understand that I am not what so ever sexually attracted to Greg."

"Okay... and why..." Before Sherlock can finish his question, John turns Greg and pulls down his sweatpants...

"JOHN" Sherlock and Greg scream at the same time!

Even if he was surprised by his boyfriend's action, Sherlock understands when he had a perfect view of his ass... with a 'Mycroft' tattoo on it.

"Oh my God..." Sherlock pulled out his phone "Brother you're buying all the Christmas presents or I will tell mommy that you have a matching one on your bum..."

The (secret) movie! (185)

“I can’t believe it!” John chuckles, putting popcorn in the fortunately eyeballs-free microwave. “A double-date with your brother!”

“It’s not a double-date!” Sherlock protests. “It’s just that… the four of us will be in the same room doing something… together... with drinks…” He suddenly straightens. “GOD! John, it’s a double date!”

“Don’t worry, we will only watch a movie… it’s good for us to do things with other couples.”

“Maybe… But..."

“Too late honey, the doorbell is ringing!”

"They better not start to snog on the couch!”

After a little bit of (awkward) small-talk, they sit and John picked up the remote. “Greg and I picked the movie! It’s a romcom, ‘When Harry Met Sally’”

“A ‘romcom’?” Sherlock asks.

“A romantic comedy, brother mine.”

Sherlock turns to his boyfriend, scandalized! “JOHN!”

“Love, you’re going to love this, it’s full of sassiness and I always thought that you were a little mix of both main characters…”

“As if…” Sherlock pouts.

The credits roll and, with surprise, Sherlock admits, “It wasn’t thaaaaat bad... But I am not like either of them, AT ALL!” Greg chuckles, hiding a smile behind his pint of beer. “WHAT! I am not at all like Harry and certainly not as high maintenance as Sally!”

His sour protestations were lost in laughter as John nearly spit out his beer!

A secret nightmare (19)

They’re something that Sherlock has never said to John.

The worst minute of his life, worse than Serbia, worse than being shot. He dreams about this often, over and over. In a loop but... always lies when his lover asks about it... because that's also John's minute.

 This is strange, not like the rehearsal. The concrete is cold. The blood is a little too cold, it should be around 37c and it's clearly below that... I hope Molly has my change of clothes with her because its... But Sherlock's rational thoughts are interrupted.

"I’m a doctor, let me come through. Let me come through, please."

Oh God... I didn't think about that! His voice... I must not blink, not move... John... 

"No, he’s my friend. He’s my friend. Please."

Oh God, he's touching me... He wasn't supposed to be able... REMOVE HIS FINGERS NOW!... please, please, please... I won't be able to keep up the pretense... Mind Palace... Redbeard... Where are you boy... 

"Please, let me just..."

The detective was dying inside, the agonized voice of John stored in his Mind Palace forever.

"Jesus, no... God, no."

I'm sorry John... I'm so sorry but I have no choice it's all for you... I think...No...I know I love you. Take care of yourself, wait for me. I will come back.  

A secret rendez-vous (90)

Think about something else!

John was outside the flat… eyes closed as he was trying to ERASE from his memory what he just saw: Mycroft and Greg on the kitchen table…

No, no, no! I don’t want to think about my brother-in-law's prick deep in my friend’s arse! It was exactly the same feeling he had when he saw his parents 25 years ago! Oh My God, my poor eyes!

It was a good day, he was home early from the surgery happy to have a little bit of alone time in the flat to relax as Sherlock was at Bart’s all afternoon and Rosie at kindergarten.

I should have stayed at work!

Deciding that it’s useless to wait in front of his own door, he went down the stairs when his boyfriend walks in from outside.

“John! You’re not at work?” He gives him a quick kiss before heading for the stairs. “Got to check something, I’m meeting Greg later and…”

John didn’t have the time to utter more than “Love! No! Don’t ope…” when he hears a scream of disgust followed by the sound of breaking glass! The chemistry equipment on the table… shit.

“MYCROFT! Pull your… penis out of my detective!!” Lestrade emits a few colourful words while Mycroft remains completely silent. “And you owe me new beakers!”

A secret experiment (35)

Sherlock didn't know, but he was the subject of an experiment...

One morning, a week ago, John decided that it was enough! His boyfriend's childish behaviour had to stop! Right now!

John decided to reward Sherlock every time he's nice. So the training starts!

 "Johnnnnnnn! Tea!" (Silence) "What does a man need to do to get a cup of tea!" "Looooooove, my tea!" (Silence) "Pleassssse, I need my tea!" (Ahem) "Could you please brings me my tea... please." (Rewards: Kisses and tea)

"Where's my computer!" (Silence) "Did you move my bloody computer!" (Silence) "Have you seen my computer?" (Ahem) "Darling, can you help me find my computer?" (Rewards: Kisses and showing that the bloody computer was on the desk all along.)

"Lestrade, told that idiot of yours to stop tampering with evidence!" (Silence and frowning) "Sorry, is it possible for them to leave the room, I work better when I'm alone..." (Rewards: Kisses once alone in the room and promises of more at home.)

With a satisfied smile, John considered the progress they've made! Only seven days and the results were remarkable! Even Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson comment on how polite and calm Sherlock was!

Smiling inwardly, Sherlock was happy to make John proud by 'responding' to his little experiment... with the benefits of getting lots of kisses and sexy bedtimes. 

The secret of the missing voice (47)

Sherlock was on the sofa when John feels his phone ping.

John? SH

What now? Today of all day…  "WHAT! I won’t text you when you are meters away from me… Just talk!'

Could you please brings me tea? SH 

“Get it yourself!” The doctor was pacing in the kitchen, working the dinner, “I just home from a long shift at the surgery and you are in exactly the same position you were when I left, only with even MORE bloody comforters! How is that even possible…” He opens the door to their bedroom and realizes that all the blankets are gone. “And they are coming from our bed… Nice! You're always making such a mess, for once it would have been nice to come home to a meal or…”

But John! SH

“No! I don’t want to talk to you until you made up the bed again and that you talk with your mouth like a bloody adult!” He closes the fridge with a bang, exasperates by the continuous ping of his phone. He looks down quickly…

I lost my voice this morning around 10:16AM, my fever is rising per 2.5% each hour. SH

I’m not feeling very well. SH

I don’t like it. SH

“Oh… I’m so sorry, I’ll take care of you my poor honeybee baby…”

70s secret (3)

It had been a gruesome affair, but it is finally over and Sherlock was happy to be back safely in London. Back to John... Knowing that Ms. Hudson was at her sister's place for the whole week, he flies up the 17 stairs to their flat. Home.

He opens the door with a flourish and... drops his bag on the floor in astonishment!

John, HIS John, was dancing to the most pop-dancing-seventy-ish-full-of-sparkles song he ever heard. Not only dancing but loudly singing off key.

Priorities first: he snaps a few photos and one video of his boyfriend. Leverage.

"Hello love... I am here, so I don't think you need to badly sing 'Give me a man after midnight' to find someone..."

"Sherlock? Oh My God... it's the radio... I didn't choose the song..."

Pointing to the cassette in the player, Sherlock can't stop laughing.

"Ok, it's mine! Don't tell me you only listen to bloody classical music!"

Sherlock took the case and, looking at the name of the band asks "ABBA? John there's a typo on your case, one of the Bs is backwards..."

Already out of the room a blushing John replies loudly "A typo! I can't believe it!... it's one of the most popular band in the world!"

"Get over it love, it's not like... that band... The Biddles."

A secret insecurity (135) 

Sherlock was eating at Speedy’s as John wasn’t home – correction, he left me - but his bacon butties was accompanied by… something unusual. The waitress, knowing that he does not like changes, smiles and points at the potatoes.

“It’s latkes! Happy Hanukkah!”

“Hum…” He frowns. “Okay.”

“The snow is wonderful! You should go to Hyde Park Winter Wonderland with Rosie!” She babbles as she walks away.

Looking outside, Sherlock thinks about the fight he had with John yesterday. Something silly about him not liking how a new inspector was blatantly flirting with him. It took us years to finally be together… Does he really think that I will fall for anybody else? He winces as he remembers what he said. You shouldn’t push your own insecurity onto me! Maybe it’s you who don’t think I’m enough?

Hurt, John took Rosie with him and left to stay with Stamford few days.

Sherlock envied the clean slate the snow puts on everything. If it could be so easy … I shouldn’t have taunted him like that… Not when it’s me who constantly thinks I’m not enough…

A car door closing pulls him from his reveries. It was John, getting out of a cab, a sleeping Rosie in his arms. His eyes found Sherlock’s through the window. Everything was suddenly as brilliant as snow.

He’s back.

A secret goal (137)  

John wasn’t able to stop giggling like a child. I can’t believe my plan to put him in that silly costume worked!

“John, could you please stop laughing like a mad man, you’re not helping. At all.” The tall man was trying to pull the green leggings over his long legs while his boyfriend – not assisting whatsoever -  was nearly dying of laughter! “Still don’t understand why I’m the one who should dress as an elf, you’re the short one!” Sherlock mutters, clearly already exasperated by the whole affair.

“Oye!” John protests. “The children are expecting a lanky Elf, not a cute, well-proportioned one, because of that Elf-on-the-Shelf thing...”

“Ah! Got it!” Sherlock was finally able to stand, the velvet leggings finally in place.

John looks at his boyfriend, his tongue unconsciously passing over his lips. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” Sherlock spins, trying to find what’s wrong but didn’t realize how revealing the legging were. Soon the tunic that goes over will cover anything too revealing but for now…  he was a veritable feast for John’s eyes.

At his boyfriend's growing interest, Sherlock finally understands. “Did you plan all this, my love, hmm? But the real question I need to ask you is, 'have you been really naughty or really nice?' ” He asks with a sultry tone, shaking his velvety clad bottom…

A secret gift (27)

"Are you certain about this?" An uncertain Ms. Hudson asks, clearly afraid.

"Do not worry, it's harmless... You won't even know it's there!" But the elder Holmes wasn't looking comfortable enough to calm the lady. He was looking warily at the man who was working calmly and professionally on the roof, building a small structure.

"And you think he will like it?" She asks, still unsure why she gave her permission to that crazy project! (In fact, she knows, she just CAN'T say 'no' to anything regarding Sherlock!)

"I KNOW he's going to love it!" John, also staying far away as possible of the box, was in fact thinking that his boyfriend will be specifically delighted about the gift for his 40th birthday.

“And if there is something hard to do, it is to please and surprise my brother…” The older Holmes adds in an unusually warm voice.

A few kilometers away, Sherlock was at Bart’s looking restless.

“Sherlock, stay calm, will you?” Molly chides him, with a devious smile.

But the detective wasn’t able to stop pacing. “Do you think, it’s done already? I want to go hooooome!”

“You know it’s supposed to be a surprise! How did you find…”

“It was obvious! And it’s brilliant! I’m – nearly -  happy to be forty! It's not every day one receives a beehive!”

A secret precious memory (173) 

John enters the clinic feeling restless. Because today was special. This is silly… Who celebrates the day they met a new friend? We are more than friends now anyway… He sighs as he walks down the corridor to his office. Am I making too much of it? Sherlock won’t bother as he generally don’t even know which day of the week it is!

“Doctor Watson!” His secretary was running after him.

He stops. “Yes?” She was holding a stunning bouquet in her hand, with a big smile.

“It’s for you, doctor!” She laughs and went back to her office.

Speechless, John opens the card.

8 years… So long… But I wouldn’t change it for anything as it made us who we are. S.

John turns on his phone with shaking hands.

Flowers? JW

Yes… Are they adequate? I couldn't find a Hallmark’s card for celebrating the anniversary of ‘We-met-on-that-day-and-we-used-to-be-only-best-friends-but-we-are-now-finally-shagging’. SH

You should trademark this ;-) You thought about it! You don’t even remember the bloody solar system! JW

I remember what is important. SH

You know that I love you, yes? JW

Yes. Angelo's at 8? SH

Thousand times yes. JW

Okay. SH

And… I love you too. SH

With a big smile, John went to work as Sherlock rushes to prepare everything for their anniversary, his beautiful eyes happy and bright.

A secret trick (162)

“Love….” Sherlock was trying to get John’s attention.

Eyes still on his novel, John simply hums.

“You love me?”

“Yep.”

“You know that I love Shakespeare.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize?” The doctor replies with a playful smirk.

“I really do. I think he’s one of…” But John interrupts what was probably going to be a long tirade.

“You know, Sherlock, it was a joke.”

“I don’t go to theatre often though…” Sherlock sighs. “Too many people that can’t keep their mouth shut… I remember a time when…”

“To the point, love. Trying to read right now.”

“I only love a few directors in fact. And the best one, nowadays, is Robert Lepage.”

“Robert who?”

“John! How can you don’t know him?”

“Ok, he’s the best… So?”

“He’s finally doing a Shakespeare! Could you imagine! Shakespeare AND Lepage at Stratford!”

“And you want to go...” John smiles. A week-end in Stratford-upon-Avon, I can do that. “Ok, we can go... Shakespeare is nice...”

“Really!! Great! Because I just purchased our plane tickets and…”

“PLANE?”

“Yes, of course, Lepage is doing it as a guest director at the Stratford Festival in Ontario.”

“Ontario… in Canada?”

“Don’t be daft, John, of course, Ontario is in Canada.” Sherlock kisses a stunned John, ecstatic that his little trick worked and that his boyfriend also loved the Bard.

A secret need (107)

“Please don't walk naked in the flat my love?”

With a raised eyebrow, Sherlock asks innocently “Is it bad?”

“The bad thing is that I have stuff to do this afternoon… And if you don’t stop I will never get on with it.”

“Oh… But I like for us to… get on.” The detective tone was now clearly lustful. He sits himself on John lap, pushing the computer away. “You don’t need to write this report for Lestrade… I will do it later.” He kisses John’s nape longingly, his hands slowly opening the buttons of his shirt.

John chuckles unbelieving, “YOU will?”

“Ok… I lied… YOU can do it later…” His hands were becoming more inquisitive as he eagerly opened John’s trousers.

“I’m not complaining but…” John, unable to resist the loving assault, let go a deep moan, “what’s going on this morning?”

“Nothing… I’m just terribly in love with you and you are too beautiful to resist…” It was true, but the echoes of John’s screams three years ago now were spreading like fire in Sherlock's mind and he urgently needs to replace the memories with good ones… John being alive and his.

Only mine.

To forget that night when I nearly lost him and John’s cruel words that I was probably the one who put him in the bonfire…

The secret is in the mug! (10)

“I CAN’T sleep or eat right now John, I’m on a case!”

“But if you don’t you’re going to faint!”

“No!”

With a flourish of dressing gown, Sherlock falls onto his chair, in his typical ‘thinking pose’.

After half an hour, when he was really deep in the maze of his Mind Palace, John left him to fetch something in Mrs. Hudson's flat. Once back in the kitchen, he puts two cans of meal replacement and a little bottle on the countertop.

Smashing down two pills in the dust, he mixes them with the chocolate shake. Walking back to his boyfriend, he puts the mug in his hand and brings it to his lips. Automatically, Sherlock starts drinking until it’s empty. Removing the mug carefully, John replaces it with a glass of water… and waits. Twenty minutes or so later, the curly mop of hair of the detective falls on the back of the chair, a slight snore escaping his lips.

“Goodman, now sleep…” After a quick kiss, John went back to his book.

After 5 hours, Sherlock wakes up and falls back into his Mind Palace as if nothing happened; an hour later he screams. “It’s the lawyer!” then more quietly, “I told you I don’t need sleep! I’m feeling wonderful and well rested but oddly… I want chocolate biscuits!”

A secret Christmas wish... (125)

“No, I won’t go!” Sherlock was refusing to give in.

“It’s normal for a young child, love… Don’t be so stuck up about it!”

“If you want your daughter to believe that gifts are coming from a velvety obese imaginary man created by Coca-Cola, go for it!”

“I want our daughter to have an as normal as possible childhood!”

“Look at the other kindergarten children, I'm quite certain that having your girl not become like them should be at the top of your priorities!”

“Sherlock, please this is just for Christmas, we don’t need to bring our daughter into the madness of the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny.”

“Yeah, but if you want your child to have imagination as well as a logical view upon the world you must admit that…”

“Sherlock, please, I want our little princess to have everything she needs and wants, when it’s reasonable, and now she wants to see Santa!”

Suddenly, Sherlock stops talking, his eyes blinking rapidly. Coming back to his senses, he murmurs, “John… Our daughter?”

"God, that took long enough. You’re definitely tired…” John grins lovingly, placing legal papers on the table “This is on my wish list.”

“YES. Sorry… Yes… Okay..." He regains his composure, still looking a bit shaken. "But NO shopping mall… Leicester Square's Santa, doesn't look that bad.”

A secret new word (63)

"Rosie, eat your breakfast!" John was in a hurry. “If you don’t you won’t be healthy and strong!” He was rushing to get all his stuff for work.

Looking at her dad with puppy eyes, the little girl protested. “But Daddy, Papa NEVER eat breakfast and he’s really tall and strong!”

God give me patience… “You know, your papa was listening to Mamie Holmes when he as a kid, this is why he’s so tall and strong today!”

“But Mamie told me that papa was always making trouble and that he still does.”

Ok, I will never leave her alone with the Holmeses again… “Darling, do it for me, would you? I’ve made your favourite, toast and bacon… I even put honey in your milk like you like it.”

“I don’t like bacon anymore. It’s… rib-bee-ry.”

Rubbery? Where did she learns… Sherlock walks out of the bedroom. Finally, help! “Looooove, be a darling would you and could you sit with Rosie and eat your breakfast.” John’s eyes were silently sending a prayer… Please for once… Just this time… Shut up and do as I ask!

“Is this still the same bacon?" Sherlock mumbles. "Not good... kind of… rubbery.”

Rosie laughs. “Rubbery!”

John, losing patience, left for work murmuring to himself, “that’s it, starting from now, you are cooking your own breakfasts!”

A Royal secret (7)

"Love, what's that?"

John was cleaning the junk (sorry - papers of an unknown importance...) when he found an official looking envelope.

"Hummm... what?" Sherlock lazily turns to look at his boyfriend. "Oh that... It's nothing. You can put it in..."

"Is it about your subscription to Chemical Science?" John asks while he opens the envelope.

"the bin..."

Too late...

"You've been selected for a RSC award!" The doctor was now looking at the detective proudly. Oh God I can't believe this genius is all mine!

"It's nothing. If I don't acknowledge the thing they won't expect me to go the gala or what ever they called it."

"It's the bloody Royal Chemical Society! Do you know how rare it is for them to honour someone who his not directly in the field as a researcher or with three PhD!"

"Why do you think I don't want to go..." Sherlock murmurs turning back to his microscope.

"Love... Brilliant man... you deserve any award that any Royal-something want to gives you."

"Do you want to go? I will... if you are my plus one?" he replies shyly.

"Yes!" He kissed his boyfriend thoroughly. "We will show them that you don't need a doctorate to be a genius!"

With a peaceful smile, Sherlock looks at John thinking once more how much he was blessed.

A little girl secret wish (116)

“IT'S BORING!” The little girl was on the living room floor, doing puzzles, while Sherlock was on the sofa.

"That’s where you're wrong Rosie! Puzzles are great for hand-eye coordination, motor skills, memory…”

“Not when they are too easy!” She pushes away her 250 pieces puzzle, already too simple for the little girl.

The detective closes his eyes a minute, trying to find a way to entertain her, because augmenting the number of pieces won’t be a long-term solution for the intelligent and curious little girl. With a cautious voice, he asks. “Do you want to learn to play an instrument…?” He pauses, glancing at John who was at his desk. The doctor nods softly, giving his blessing.

Rosie eyes suddenly sparkle like she just received the most precious gift. “Violin! Like you!” 

“Oh, hum… Yes… If you really want to… We can get you a violin and a good teacher... Yes. Violin, it’s… it’s good. ” The emotion was clearly palpable in Sherlock voice.

“But, papa… I don’t want a teacher. I want you!” She was looking at Sherlock, frowning.

“... I have never... and I’m really impatient… but... I can try... If you want.”

John rises and kisses Sherlock softly to erase the doubt in his eyes, once again overflowing with love, gratitude and peace….

Two musicians in the flat, beautiful!

A secret concert (134)

Sherlock closes the exterior door with a sigh… Finally home! The case he worked on with Greg was a tricky one but happily not gruesome. I must be getting older, Sherlock chuckles inwardly, if I do not think that a nice murder makes ‘Christmas’!

Walking up the stairs to their flat, the detective stops as he hears violin. He smiles dotingly. Rosie… she’s becoming quite good, the little rascal! Not wanting to interrupt her practice, he sits silently on the stairs to listen in secret… his heart bursting with fatherly pride. 

Christmas Carols… Sherlock's mind escapes to another Christmas season, when he kissed John for the first time under the mistletoe. His heart flutters at the memory. I had no chance, he hung them everywhere in the flat. And to another one, where John asked him to become Rosie’s papa. The best Christmas ever.

The door of the flat opened. “Love, don’t stay there, you’re going to get a cold.” The doctor gently chides him.

“She’s getting really good, don’t you think…” Sherlock asks softly.

“Of course! You’re the best tutor!” John pulls his hand to help him stand. “Come inside…”

“John…”

“What?”

“I think I like Christmas now...”

Placing the doctor under the mistletoe he kisses him, with all his love.

“Ewwwwwww…” Rosie laughs before starting to play Jingle Bells.

A secret rehearsal (26)

Oh God! He finally left for Bart's! Pushing the chairs against the wall, he creates more space in the middle of the living room. Opening the door of the flat he called for Ms. Hudson. "Ms. Hudson, I'm ready!"

The old lady eagerly went up the stairs. "How many hours do we have?"

"Two hours, at least, Molly will phone me as soon as he leaves the lab." He was looking worried... He only has few days left till Saturday night.

"Come on John, don't worry... You're able to dance, I know it!" She was thinking of another dance, a few years ago... But it wasn't the time to talk about Mary. Now it was as it should have been. 

He walks to his computer and selects a song in his playlist. The classic vibe of 'At last' by Etta James fills the space. He turns to his old friend. "Is it ok, you think? I love the lyrics and... I don't want it to be a waltz."

"It's perfect, for a romantic slow dance, nothing fancy needed! A few twirls will do the trick! And you know that Sherlock will be able to follow you without any problem!" She laughs, imagining the surprise in Sherlock eyes. "It's wonderfully romantic to propose to your love by taking him to a ball!"

A secret question... (John finally can’t wait to propose) (39)

Friday morning John opens his eyes and the doubts, the questions, the self-loathing were all gone... the only things left were his absolute love for this man.

He turns and realizes he was alone. He misses him instantly, the way he always surrounded his smaller frame with his long limbs... Sherlock Holmes a bloody cuddlier. I must take a picture one day!

Noises were coming from the bathroom.

Rising, John walks to his drawer where he removes a tube of hair cream. Checking that Sherlock was still proceeding with his morning ritual, he sneaks in the kitchen. Opening the end of the tube with the scissors - remembering the pain in the ass it has been to seal it back seamlessly! - and pushes the entire content in a bowl. Among the white paste, a ring was softly shining. Cleaning the ring under the tap, he polishes it with a nearby tea towel.

With a profound sigh, the doctor steps into the bathroom. Sherlock, barely awake, looks at him expectantly. "Morning love, everything all right?"

He extends his hand quickly, not wanting to think! It’s NOW! "Take my hand."

"My hands are wet..."

"I'm trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damn hand!"

With a smile, Sherlock took John's hand and just like that, they become engaged... in the bathroom!

Or… The secret of the solar system! (What if... Sherlock proposes) (40)

Sherlock was alone, on the roof of Baker Street, waiting for the eclipse… and John!

Quick John, you’re going to miss it. SH

You’re the one who doesn’t care about the solar system, honey! JW

But I know that you do care about those unimportant… things. SH

I’m at the corner of our street, I’ve got plenty of time. JW

The detective looked around him, everything was perfect. In a corner of the roof, where John won’t be able to see, a beautiful table with flowers and wine in a bucket is set. Angelo’s best dishes waiting in insulated containers. Fairy lights that will light up later… He checked for the tenth time that the ring was still in his pocket. Good, it was still there. Only one small inscription, My conductor of light that represents… everything.

John finally appears right on time, a little out of breath and went to lay on his back near Sherlock on a blanket.

“Told you! Got plenty of time.” He quickly kisses his boyfriend and put the special glasses on.

The show begins slowly. After thirty minutes, when the sun was nearly totally eclipsed, Sherlock took John’s hand.

“John… You are the sun to my solar system and nothing will ever be able to eclipse you... would you do me the honour of becoming…”

A secret benediction (97)

“Have you told Mummy?”

Mycroft and Sherlock were sharing tea after a long night.

“About what?” The younger Holmes was looking towards the bathroom.

“He won’t help you, he’s getting ready for work.” Mycroft says with a smirk.

“No… I didn’t tell her. It’s private, I don’t need everyone to know that we’re going to get married!” His voice was full of exasperation. “I told you for the paperwork...”

“Sherlock…” He’s unbelievable… “You know they will be so happy for you…And after… everything… they do need happiness around them.” He sighs melancholically, thinking about Eurus.

“Cheap shot, even coming from you, Mycroft!”

“And about the RSC Award? You know how proud they would be!”

“I didn’t want to accept, but John was so happy that…” He suddenly chided himself Stop being sentimental! “I don’t need a medal or my parent’s approval! I know I am BETTER than anyone at the RSC!”

With a devious grin, his older brother retorts, “be careful… Whenever I climb I am followed by a dog called ‘Ego’…”

“Isn’t a bit early for Nietzsche, Mycroft?” John suddenly interrupts while stopping for a quick kiss before leaving for work. “Good day, love.”

Once the door was shut, Mycroft looks at Sherlock with a hint of admiration.

“You chose well, brother mine, you couldn’t have a better betrothed.”

A secret crush (160)

“And, of course, you’ll need to put on a beautiful pastel frilly dress.” Mycroft says seriously to his niece while drinking his tea.

Frowning, the little girl asks, “why?”

“Because that’s how little girls are dressed when they are a bouquetière at a wedding.” The government man calmly replies. “You wore a really nice little dress at our wedding.” He beams at the memory.

“Yeah, but I was a toddler. I didn’t choose.” She puts down her juice, knowing that a ‘negotiation’ with her uncle will need all her concentration… Even if she usually able to do nearly everything she wants with Greg and Mycroft. “I don’t understand, the wedding is in the country, I want to be able to run and play with the others.”

“Sometimes in life you need to follow the tradition…”

“But papa was discussing yesterday with dad that he didn’t want them to put a traditional morning suit!”

Probably doesn’t want it to be a copy of John previous wedding… that’s understandable. “Don’t you want to be the prettiest for you parents’ wedding?” Then he throws his secret card. “Our cousin’s boy, Andrew, is going to be there you know…”

“Oh… Okay then…“ Clearly giving up to make Mycroft happy… not because she has a crush on Andrew. “But, can I walk down the aisle barefoot?”

A secret envy... (48) 

John was looking at his fiancé with stars in his eyes. Oh God he’s so beautiful and bright and sexy and amazing… I can’t believe he said yes! It was the ‘botchiest’ proposal that I ever heard of but he said yes!

"Sherlock?" After a moment he tries again, “Love?”

The detective was at the kitchen table, specimens all around him, his eyes focused on his experiment.

“Hummmm… Yes?”

His attention remains solely on what was in front of him, not turning towards John at all. He’s so beautiful when his attention is dedicated to one task… It reminds me of when it’s my turn to get all his devotion. I’ve never told him how wonderful, if a little frightening it is - the feeling of being stripped down to the core, knowing that nothing can be hidden, that it's the truth even if I don’t know what is revealed… I wish I was able to do the same, being able to understand everything that’s under those lustrous chocolate curls. He sighs profoundly, feeling a little jealous that he will never been able to understand everything about the brilliant man.

"Love… You’re taking my breath away…"

Always the romantic, Sherlock never rises his eyes from his microscope, but replies with a sexy smirk. “Sorry love, you better get one of those bronchodilators.»

A secret memory (109)

“Sh’lock, my foots, feetsss are stickin’ to the floor…” John, seriously drunk, was looking at his feet with a disgruntled face.

Silently laughing, Sherlock walked near his future husband. It was 4 in the morning of John’s stag night. “Did you have fun love?”

John raises his eyes from his uncooperative feet, smiling adoringly at his fiancé. “Yeah... I'm going to fuck you… until you beg for mercy… Twice.”

“Really sexy, love. Bathroom first?” He removed John’s vest and put it on a nearby chair.

“I zan’t walk, Mike and Greg put glue under my sole, bastards…”

Looking at his doctor, the detective realizes that one of the lace was unknotted and caught under the other shoe. Not a good time to explain that… “Honey, just remove your shoes and you’ll be fine.”

“Ohhhhhhhh. You’re a genius and you’re mine.” After he removed his shoes, and with Sherlock's help, he finally enter the bathroom. “Bathroom! I looooooooove bathroom. It-sa room but with-za bath in it and a toilet. Got to go. Look away my darlingze, donna want to spoilz the magicitity of love.”

Sincerely hoping his aim was better than his conversation, Sherlock went to fetch a tall glass of water and paracetamol.

After few minutes, he walks in the bedroom and smiles as John was already asleep muttering ‘mmmmm…. begging’.

A secret capitulation (102)

“I won’t do it!”

“Honey… you must! If not my costume isn’t complete! We are a pair!”

“Yes we are and I love you, but I won’t put a costume for that silly kid’s thing!” Enough is enough! I didn’t sign up for THIS!

John was already dressed up and was trying to coerce his reluctant boyfriend into a Batman outfit “It’s for the NSY party! And you usually love to put costumes on… I don’t understand!”

“For cases… I don’t think black pointy ears will EVER been useful for a case!”

“It’s Batman! He’s a crime fighter! We’re a team!!”

“I don’t see the link between a latex fetishist vigilante and Peter Pan!”

“I’m Robin!!!” For God's graces! I should have pick up a Jack the Ripper costume for him and be a clueless Victorian bobby!

“You know that Robin Hood never existed… And I still don’t understand the link with that ‘Batman.’”

The argument was interrupted when the door opens to an exasperated Mycroft.

“No I won’t dress up as Jafar!” He firmly states as he was entering the flat, followed by Greg as Aladdin..

“But Myc, it’s funny and cute!!”

The brothers exchanged a sympathetic look.

“What did The Woman say, Sherlock?” Mycroft murmured.

The detective extends his hand and took the mask “Know when you are beaten…”

A secret weapon (126) 

Sherlock was glaring at the unconscious criminal on the living room floor. I don’t have time for this, It’s Christmas! Dialling Lestrade, he asks him as politely possible to send someone ASAP. Beside him, a destroyed fruitcake was the proof that, even if it was nonsense to put dried fruits in a pudding, it can knock out someone pretty well! Necessity is the mother of invention. And it flew so nicely across the flat!

Not wanting to explain his method, Sherlock dropped the cake in the bin and invents a cock-and-bull story about an old Asian combat technique that left the young cop dumbstruck.  

An hour later John returns from the surgery and, after a quick kiss, rushes to the bedroom to change for the evening. Walking from the bathroom, all dressed up, he asks, frowning, “love, what have you done with the fruitcake?”

“Hum? What are you talking about, honey?”

“The fruitcake that I bought for Harry!” It was pricey, coming from Harrods Food Hall. “It was on the table…”

“Oh, don’t know… Maybe Ms. Hudson took it this morning. Come on! We’re late! Let’s go! Family and such…”

Closing the door after his boyfriend, who was already at the bottom of the stairs, John was still dubious.  I’m certain that Sherlock used it for an experiment! That cheeky bastard!

A secret unwanted gift... (132) 

"You still have nothing to say?” The man yanks Sherlock's head back hard then pushes it forward again. “Do you know what day it is little spy?” When his prisoner remains silent, he whips him with his heavy leather belt… “Speak!”

Sherlock looks at the man as to say Are you fucking kidding me, but his eyes fall on the newspaper left behind.  With difficulty, he replies “It's... it's... Chr… Christmas…”

“How could you know that? Yes it is! I am leaving you to celebrate with my family and friends…” He strikes again. “Friends! You don’t have any right now!” With a cruel smirk, he strokes Sherlock's back softly… and murmurs in his ear. “I. Am. Your. Only. Friend.”  

"... No... Not alone... John... John.." Sherlock mumbles, his mind flying home.

“Oh, I’m jealous now! Christmas gift from John then!”   The man laughs cruelly and beats Sherlock harder and harder.

Sherlock wakes up shaking.

John is beside him in an instant. “Love… shushhh… What’s wrong?”

“Serbia… Christmas…” Sherlock's heart was beating erratically.  

John wrapped up his lover in his arms, giving him his warmth and his strength. “We are here for you, Rosie and I and all our friends, for all the Christmases yet to come…”

They hold each other while the ghosts of Christmas past slowly disappear in a blur…

The secret of the queue (152)

“Do we really need to do this?” Mycroft was looking at Greg with pleading eyes.

Greg nods. “Yes, love, it’s not the right gift.” I can’t just ask my secretary like someone else! “I made an error, so I need to exchange it.” He chuckles as he remembers the horror on Sherlock's face when he told him the gift he bought for Rosie at his last visit to Baker Street! He changes the bag from one hand to the other as he evaluates the queue. “It won’t be long before it’s my turn to ask for a return…” I hope!

Using a sulky voice, Mycroft murmurs “Won’t you prefer to do something… I don’t know… less public. I’m certain I can provide you with… many... happy... returns.”

“Mycroft!” The DI mutters as discreetly as possible “Stop that at once! We are in a bloody toy store!” Not a good place to get a fucking hard-on!

As a mother frowns at Greg for swearing in front of small children, Mycroft took on a mocking offended tone and retorts, “Gregory! I can assure you that I have the most respect for toys! I personally have plenty at home that I…”

“Next!” The clerk calls as Greg takes Mycroft’s hand and they dash out of the store, leaving behind a bag containing a Barbie.

A secret misadventure! Part 1 (186) 

John's voice was resonating in his head. He nearly always said something when I’m twirling things…

          “One day, you’re going to break or lose something of value!”

          “It’s cute when it’s a pencil, but stop fidgeting with a jack-knife you’re going to stab yourself!”

          “Stop! It’s a bloody 500 quid phone!”

Oh God… he's not going to like this. Fuck!

“Love, what are you doing on the floor? Analysing the dust bunnies? ” John asks, laughing fondly.

Sherlock's heart somersaults but he quickly replies without thinking too much “Yes. Yes. For a case… The residual dust inside a typical London flat located on a street with heavy traffic and… and…”

“Good thing I didn’t hoover yesterday, then!” He squats beside his husband to brush his lips on his curls. “Got to go to the clinic…don’t forget to pick up Rosie after school!”

“Of course… I won’t forget Rosie.” Sherlock mutters indignantly, still focussing intensely on the floor.

“I know honey… Have a nice day. Love you!”

As soon as the front door closed, the detective puts his head on the floor, knocking it a few times on purpose. “I am stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid… And now I need Mycroft's help!” Opening his phone he actually calls his big brother. “Myyyyyyyyyyycroft.” He moans, “my wedding band rolled between the floor boards…”

A secret misadventure! Part 2 (187) 

“Stop laughing!” Sherlock says seriously. “Now!”

“Admit it… This is funny.” Lestrade replies with an unrepressed grin.

“What are you actually doing here?”

Mycroft, giggling, intervenes. “I invited him, of course, as you were in a… dire situation.”

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock walks near the carpenter “Could you… I don’t know… remove the board and… Do something!”

“It’s the original wood...” The old man argues, scratching his head. “I can’t break one board and replace it with another... The colour won’t be equal and…”

Sherlock, nervously looks at his watch. 5 hours before John’s return!

“A carpet, maybe?” Greg suggests as Mycroft was discreetly leaving the flat.

“SHUT UP GRAHAM!!”

A few minutes later, Mycroft returns. “Time to do some tidying up, brother mine.”

“What?” Sherlock marvelled “What have you done?”

“I’ve talked with Mrs. Hudson, who – it appears – totally forgot that she paid for a complete sanding and re-varnishing of the living room.” Pointing to the carpenter he adds. “You! Remove that plank, get that wedding ring and put in a similar piece of wood.”

“Yes, sir.” The carpenter stammers, bemused.

“I assume that once everything is sanded and varnished nobody will know that this board has been tampered with?”

“Yes. I means, no, sir.”

Removing his coat, he turns to Greg and Sherlock. “Let’s move everything into the bedroom!”

A secret misadventure! Part 3 (188) 

Sherlock was surveying the now glistering floor, his ring back on his finger. John should be back shortly, if his estimation of the tube-ride-vs-the-weather-vs-the-time-of-the-day-vs-the date, was right.

Mycroft, admiring the work, places a comforting hand on Sherlock's shoulder. “Don’t worry, he’ll never know.” He smirks “… but be careful would you? I won’t send a team of scuba divers in the Thames to get it back if you lose it while running on a bridge!”

“Pffff… As if…” Sherlock replies but his protestation ends abruptly as John opens the door.

“Hello Mycroft… God… Is that… a new floor?” John asks, laughing as the brothers start to invent a cock-and-bull story about Mrs. Hudson's bad memory and how they add to clean everything super-fast and… and… but John was still laughing merrily.

“What’s so funny?”

“Didn’t think you were going to go as far as ripping up the floor…” Unable to speak, he points to Sherlock’s ring, still shaking in laughter.

“YOU KNEW! JOHN!”

“Of course, I realized it wasn’t on your finger this morning.” He smiles lovingly “…didn’t want to scold you as I knew that you were already feeling bad… that you'd find a way...” He turns to look at the sparkling floor again. “But THAT!” 

The doctor was still laughing as he reverently kissed his husband's platinum wedding band.

A secret game (100)

They were watching tv when they heard a noise coming from the end of the flat.

“Love… you left the window open in the bedroom?” John asks softly, not wanting to wake up Rosie who was napping on the sofa.

Sherlock nods, focusing his attention on the small noises… “Two men, one really heavy… guns and knives.” He rises, putting himself in front of Rosie. “Wake her John, quick.”

“Rosie… darling… shutttt… Everything’s ok… We are playing at the ‘serious hide and seek’ you remember?” The little girl closes her mouth firmly and nods. “Are you afraid darling?” She shakes her blond hair with resolution. “Ok… 1, 2, 3… Go!” Rosie runs to the back stairs that communicate directly with 221a without making a sound. She knows that once hiding in Nana’s flat, she must call her uncles.

John, once their daughter is out of sight, turns to stand beside his husband muttering “What did I say about bringing work home love…”

“It’s not my fault, it’s not like I sent invitation or anything!” He replies with a slightly exasperated smile. A gun in his hand, he looks into John eyes “United?”

“Always… Let go clean our bedroom…” He smirks “I had some nice plans in it tonight.”

“Don’t say things like that when we have… company” Sherlock laugh softly, blushing.

A secret privilege (106)

Mycroft was ‘babysitting’ Rosie one evening and they were cosy, watching documentaries on BBC while eating tons of popcorn.

“Can I stay up late?” Her pleading eyes as effective as the Queen’s ones.

Readying himself for the discussion, Mycroft replied firmly, “you go to bed when the sun goes down.”

“I don’t have ALL the data, papa always said…” Rosie was frowning.

Her uncle smiles softly and interrupts, “at the end of August, the sun goes down around 8PM, darling.”

“Oh! It’s wayyyyyyy too early!" 

 “You’ve got school tomorrow.” Mycroft was trying to stay firm.

“Why? I already know everything that an eight-year-old is ‘supposed’ to know!” She pouts, clearly doubting the British educational system. “I asked daddy if I can stay home with papa but he said no… That I need friends.”

Agreeing her parents' decision, Mycroft asks teasingly, “what are you doing at school then, if you already know everything?”

“Papa talked to my teacher at the beginning of the year and asked if I could help the others with difficulties…” They watched the penguins on the screen for a few more minutes. “I think I would like to become a teacher-detective-doctor one day.”

Mycroft, now really proud of Sherlock, places Rosie comfortably on his knees and murmurs, “9 PM, but not a word to your parents, little brat!”

A secret shopping trip (133)

John was happy. It was the morning before Christmas... And they had nothing to do.  

Christmas party at Mycroft and Greg's place tonight so no food or drink to take care of for once! Not. A. Thing. To. Do!

John opens his eyes lazily and turned to watch his husband... Who wasn't there. Where the hell is he? If he found a way to work on December 24th, I'm going to kill him! As he was about to text him he hears the door of the flat.

He gets out of bed and in his pajamas to join Sherlock in the kitchen. "I hope you had an excellent reason to abandon me alone this morning..." He pouts. “You promised me that this day would be full of nothing and... I had plans for you and that bed you know."

Smiling, Sherlock explains "It's just that I know that you love Eggnog when we are at home around Christmas and I wanted to surprise you..." He sheepishly shows the bag full of milk, eggs, rum and spices.

“Ohhhhhh, I could marry you, you know?” John exclaims, smashing a kiss onto Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock frowns “But we are already married… I don’t understand.”

“It’s just an expression love, don’t worry. Put that in the fridge and for now let’s go back to bed…”

A secret bodyguard! (80)

John walks into the bathroom to find his little bundle of joy (and trouble if he were honest) in the bath. More accurately submerged in the bath!

“Rosie? What the hell are you doing in a bathing suit, your head underwater?” The 6 year’s old little girl gasps as she sits in the bath, trying to catch her breath.

“Daddy! You disturbed me! I was breaking a new record!”

“A new record of what?” John laughs “Of how many litters of water you can put on the floor before Nana Martha gets water through her ceiling!”

“Noooooooooo… Don’t be silly daddy!”

Her little face was frowning, a perfect imitation of her papa.  Another one who thinks I’m an idiot, great!  John thought with an inner smile.

“I want to be able to stay underwater as long as possible!” She says decidedly. “I’ve been training for days!”

“Why?” Then suddenly he realizes. Poor little angel. A week ago, Sherlock nearly drowned after a criminal pushed him off a bridge! She wasn’t supposed to know… “Honey… you know your papa is a great swimmer and he’s never alone when he’s chasing a bad person.” He kneels on the wet tiles. “But I’m really proud of you darling, you are really strong! Cookies?” As his little girl nods, he snuggles her in Sherlock's bathrobe.

A secret flaw (190)

“That’s it…“ John puts down his book, looking at his husband with concern “It’s not that watching you sulk isn’t enticing… But could you please confirm that it’s not something that I’ve done? Imaginary or not?”

Turning to face the back of the sofa, the detective murmurs “You are marvellous and strong and wise John, but you are nothing against human biology!”

Human biology? What the… “Sherlock! Love... Are you sick, did they find something bad… You went for a test without telling me! How many time did I have to…”

“No, THEY didn’t find anything. I found something!”

Sitting near Sherlock, John gently strokes his back. “Honey… What have you found? A curious melanoma? A little bump? Tell me, please…”

As he was muttering something incomprehensible, the doctor asked him to repeat. Twice.

“I FOUND GREY HAIRS!” Sherlock finally screams. “John… I am… OLD!” The hatred in the last word was so evident that John – even if he tried really really hard – wasn’t able to hide a smile.

“You’re blond, it’s not fair! Your grey hairs look silver and it’s beautiful… but for me it’s horrible!” Mustering all his dignity, he rushes to the bathroom. “I will remove them one by one!”

“Don’t do that my darling… Maybe a tint?” John jests “Imagine! You can turn your hair platinum blond!”

The secret rules (153)

“It’s been four days!!” John was complaining as he looks at the street below.  The icy storm was fading but the sidewalks and the streets were still dangerous. The doctor enjoyed the first two days as he read his to-read pile, watched his to-watch pile and sorted through his pile of things-to-sort… They made love as often as it was possible with Mrs. Hudson's constant visits and a fidgety Rosie who was barging on them at any moment... So, not nearly enough for John's taste. As he lets the drape fall with disgust, Mrs. Hudson knocks.

“Wou-hou!” She enters with all their favourites sweets. “I am now officially out of flour…” She sits at the kitchen table. “What can we do for fun, boys?”

“And me!!” Rosie cries from the sofa.

“Yes, and you, honey…” She smiles.

The little girl flies to the mysterious-cupboard-of-all-the-missing-stuff and brought back a box. “Cluedo!”

“Noooooooo!” John snaps incredulously!

“Daddy! Papa and me play often!”

“You played with Sherlock?” A suspicious John looks at his husband who was affectionately smiling, not bored at all as he was happy to stay at home with his family, refreshing his Mind Palace about what was the essence of John, Rosie and Mrs. Hudson.

“Yes!” Rosie replies, cheerfully adding, “with our own specials rules!” as she opens the dreaded box…

A not so secret diversion… (144)

John's hand was in Sherlock curls, stroking the soft strands. “Are you all right, love?”

“Yes… I think…” His lover replies, even if he was looking far from all right. His eyes were red from crying and lack of sleep, his shoulders down as if the weight of the world was dragging him down…

Sherlock’s father died a few days ago and they were back from Mycroft and Greg's place where Mrs. Holmes was staying for now. His restless mind was full of memories, mixed with lawyers, the will, funerals, flowers… How could he leave us like that!

Pulling Sherlock to the sofa, John starts babbling, not so secretly trying to change his boyfriend's mind. “You know that today is the 21^st… it’s the winter solstice… This is why we celebrate Christmas around this date you see…”  After a few minutes he stops, looking into his lover's eyes. “Sherlock, what can I do for you? Let me help…”

“Just hold me tight, all night long…”

John chuckles softly as he puts his arms around Sherlock to pull him even closer to him “Love, you know it’s the longest night of the year…”

“Yes, of course I know, I may be a little opportunistic…” The detective softly murmurs as the warmth and love from John comforts him and eases his breathing.

A secret delivery (141)

John stops Rosie as soon as she enters the flat. “Come back here and remove your winter boots!”

Frowning, the little girl stops “But, Daddy!”

“Don’t even try, young lady!” After he helps her get out of her boots and coat, she runs to her papa with a big smile.

“Have you found them?” At 6 years old, Rosie was trying to act like a big girl but it was hard sometimes! It’s not my fault, it’s my favourite things about Christmas! Except for the gifts. And Nana Martha's food. And the party!

“No, I didn’t…” Sherlock was of course teasing as he was always trying to make their little girl happy. And she looooooove Christmas crackers. It started 2 years ago with Paw-“Not-those-bloody-dogs-again”-Patrol crackers, next it was Disney-“Pink-from-Hell”-Princesses and this year she asked for a Doctor Strange edition.

“But it’s impossible papa, finding stuff… It’s… your JOB!”

Laughing at his job description, Sherlock protests “I didn’t but... I know someone who did!”

Right on time, Mycroft enters the flat. “Special delivery!”

“Uncle My!”

“I was presenting something at the UN so... !” He handed over the box as his overexcited niece rushes into his arms. “Be careful not to break your old uncle, Rosamund!” Mycroft laughs.

A UN meeting for such a big smile, it’s a bargain!

A secret tactic! (151)

“Noooooooooooooo! I don’t want to go to school today! NO!” Rosie was having one of her rare, if quite spectacular, tantrums. 

“Darling, the Christmas holidays are over, I’ve got to go back to work, you’ve got to go back to school… This is life.”

“Then life is BORING!” She crosses her arms and argues “Papa is always alone at home, I can stay to… check on him!”

“He’s working on cases and his schedule is erratic at best…” But he does needs supervision, the doctor inwardly smirks. John was trying to find the ultimate argument to help Rosie get out of her post-holiday blues… when a offensive smell spreads in the flat. “Sherlock! What’s that!”

“Oh? Sorry love… It's an experiment on the level of precipitation of urine when…”

“Urggggg. Gross!! Papa we eat on that table! It stinks.” And she finally runs to catch up with her friends on the way so school.

Sighing with relief, John turns towards his husband. “Thank God the holidays are over, she ate too much sweets! Thanks for your help, love… If you haven’t started that monstrosity, I bet I would still be arguing with her!”

“Yesssss. Hum…. You were arguing with… whom?” A distracted Sherlock asks, eyes glued on his experiment.

Laughing softly, John kisses Sherlock's head before rushing to catch the bus.

Forfeiting in secret (83)

Lestrade walks into the flat after a knock and a pause (he stumbles too many times on John and Sherlock making out in the living room!)  The guys were fortunately more careful now that Rosie was older!

Speaking of Rosie, she was presently alone in the room using Sherlock’s precious microscope.

“Hey kiddo! How are you?”

“Great uncle Gerald!” She winks, knowing perfectly well that his name was Greg.

“Superb, Josephine!” The grey-haired man smiles at her. “Should you play with that equipment, Rosie, it’s quite expensive you know!”

She turns on the high stool she was sitting on and looks at Greg with a ‘You are kidding me, right?’ glare and replies with authority “I am not PLAYING!”

With a serious face, Greg excuses himself “Sorry then Ro’… I didn’t want to disturb your work.” Greg was now able to read the quote on her t-shirt and found it really fit her. ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce!'

“Shakespeare. Midsummer’s Night Dream.” Rosie mumbles out of the blue.

“What?”

“You were reading the quote on my t-shirt!” She rolls her eyes.  

Oh… there’s two of them now! Thanks God John is on my side!

Discreet steps entered the room followed by a thrilled, “UNCLE MYCROFT!”

“Greetings darling Rosamund… Gregory.”

Three of them! I am doomed… Greg chuckles, Bugger!

A secret project (4)

They were in the living room, waiting for Sherlock, when Mycroft sees something in his lover’s eyes. “Gregory…?”

Turning his gaze from Rosie, still working with her papa's lab equipment, the detective sighs. “She’s so precious, don’t you think?” He chuckles. “Even if when she’s in the room John and I are totally outnumbered!”

Frowning, the younger man asks. “Outnumbered?”

“Yeah, you know… the ratio of normal people to genius!”

Laughing softly, Mycroft protests. “Don’t say that love… You and John are geniuses of something more important, the heart…” He smiles adoringly. “Good for her, she’s going to be a genius on every level. I’m really proud of having her in our family.”

“But… do you want to… you know one day. Maybe…” Greg shyly avoided his husband eyes.

Mycroft stays silent a moment, trying to understand. “What?... Oh! You mean… A family.”

“Yes…” The other man murmurs before adding quickly “But… no obligation, it’s just a silly thought and with all those children without a home and… we have a really big home, and…” Mycroft tenderly interrupted his rambling with a kiss.

“We are going to be excellent parents, my love.”

“So… Boy or girl?” Greg chuckles happily.

Not even lifting her blonde head from her experiment, Rosie mutters, “girls are boring… always playing with dolls. I'd get a boy!”

A secret capitulation (2) (108)

“Pappppppppppppa!” Rosie runs to Sherlock who was at his microscope. “Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!”

John, who was behind her and closing the flat door, laughs at her enthusiasm and his husband's silent, Do I wanna know?

Sherlock turns his eyes from his work to look at John’s (no… their) daughter. “Calm yourself darling and explain everything.”

“It’s ‘Parent’s day’ at school next Wednesday, and I want you to come!” Her eyes were shining with anticipation, yet a bit afraid that her ‘antisocial’ papa – whatever that means! – could say no to her.

“But Rosie… your dad is way better than me at that kind of stuff… He’s a doctor, used to be a soldier… he’s even a blogger! That’s plenty of wonderful tales to captivate your classmates!” The detective looks at John, wanting a little bit of help! But the doctor's smirk was screaming, ‘you’re on your own love.'

“Lucy’s mom is a doctor, Michael dad’s a soldier and Robert’s mom is a journalist which is like a blogger, right?”

“Yeah, but no one parent is doing both three isn’t?” Sherlock protests hopefully.

“But papppppppa,” Rosie whined dramatically, “I’ve already told everyone that you are coming!”

Little minx… Sherlock secretly thought before agreeing. His mind already trying to find cases that are actually appropriate for nine year old brains.

A secret doubt (174)

“Daddy, are you papa’s biographer?”

“Hum…” John turns to look at their daughter. “Why?”

“In English class, we talked about books. Documentary, novel, auto-biography, biography…”

“And…”

“An auto-biography is only about the life of the person who is writing it.” She was pouting, clearly unhappy to be puzzled. “And my teacher said that a biographer is someone who does nothing, he only writes about someone else.”

Sherlock who was ensconced in his chair, was smiling at the exchange and at John’s patience... until he saw his husband frown a little.

“Yeah but sometimes it’s more complicated… I don’t know, it’s true that if you put it like that. I… I’m not the one who does or solve things, it’s more your papa… and…”

The detective interrupts John from the unhappy road he was taking… “Darling, your daddy is far more than my biographer. I couldn’t have solved half of the cases if it weren't for his help. His insights, his protectiveness towards me, his attention to detail that I overlook… All this is just as important as my show-off persona.”

“So, what kind of work it is then? If it’s not an auto-biography or a biography?”

“It’s a work of love… And you know, Rosie,” with a smile, Sherlock looks at John “I know I'd be completely lost without my Boswell!”

A secret lesson (66)

John was going up the stairs when he found Ms. Hudson near their door.  

“Ms. Hudson…?” 

She quickly puts a finger on her lips, motioning to John to stay silent and to listen! John, came closer to the door and wait… then he heard it.

“One, two, three, one…” It was Sherlock's baritone voice, covering slightly a classical waltz.

The doctor turns to Ms. Hudson with a big smile.

“Is he…?” He asks quietly.

“Yes,” She laughs silently, “For an hour or so… Poor little girl, he’s quite a despot!”

 “Rosie darling, you must follow me! You can't do what you want! There are rules!” Sherlock patience was clearly near its limit!

“But… Papa! It’s boring, it’s better when we can dance like we want!” Rosie whines…

“I know honeybee, but must I remind you that you asked me to show you how to waltz because they decided to close the dance like in that old magicians’ movie!”

She giggles. “It's in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire! Daddy is right, you have no knowledge about popular culture!” And to think that all my friends swoon about him because he’s sexy – sooooooo gross! 

“Ok, Rosie, one last time and we will open the door so I can dance with your lovely dad…”

John, knowing that he was discovered, chuckles, “bugger!”

A secret important question (213) 

“Dad?” Rosie was sitting at the kitchen table.

Smiling, doing that thing-with-peas that Sherlock loves, John replies “Yes…” .

“Got a question… A real one.”

Putting down his spatula, John turns to watch their daughter, frowning. “What’s wrong, do you need help with something?”

“No, everything's fine.” She bites her lips a bit, as she did when she was a bit stressed out. “But…”

“But…?” John repeats patiently.

“How did you know?”

Oh… That’s about that.  Playing clueless, he asks. “Know what, darling?”

“That papa was the one?” She knew that her mom was important, but his real love was Sherlock. And it’s ok.

“The first time I saw him, I was… not only swept off my feet but finally able to walk and run alone because I had him by my side. He took my breath away but at the same time I was able to really breathe for the first time in months. That first case, I killed a man for him. I’m not proud of it of course, but I would do it over in a heartbeat. And… when he disappeared I was so lost and alone again like someone ripped out a piece of my soul.”

“Oh, Daddy…” Rosie hugs her crying dad with force. “You help me a lot, thank you. And careful! The risotto is burning!”

A secret second important question (214)

Later that night, Rosie sits on the arm of her papa’s leather chair. That old, decrepit chair!

He barely raises his head from his book. “No. It’s been cleaned and fixed a lot of time and I like it. It’s a classic.”

“How could you know what I was…” She puts her head on Sherlock’s shoulder and sighs. And sighs again. And again.

“Little sun of my life, what do you want?”

“Just a silly question…”

“Your silly questions are more interesting than any Met theories, even now that Anderson finally retired.” Sherlock chuckles, “So please my darling, ask.”

“It’s really not that important but…”

“You want to know about your dad and me.”

“Papa!” Rosie softly chides.

“Sorry, I can’t help myself!” He closes his eyes a moment, thinking. “I can’t reply honeybee. I just… knew that he was the one even if it was madness to think that one day… he could love a frea... love me… We had rough times, but he constantly spread a brightness over my mind… Filling all the dark spots, one by one until the only option left for me was to open my heart and let his light in.” He pauses before smirking. “Is this about that boyfriend of yours…” 

It was of course the only thing John heard. “Whose got a boyfriend?”

Secret gifts (216)

Placing his ear on the door to listen to the silence that fell over 221a, Sherlock murmurs, “do you think England will fall now?”

Pressing himself against his husband's body, trying to chase away the sadness they’re feeling since their oldest friend died a few days ago, John replies “She was a woman greater than life itself, she’s going to keep watching over England and especially us, don’t worry.” Taking his hand, he gently pulls Sherlock towards the stairs. “Come on love, it's cold, I’m going to start a fire and I think we’ve got a bottle of good stuff somewhere for a last toast from her favourite so-called tenants.”

Walking up the stairs slowly, Sherlock thought about how they were so much more than tenants. They were a family. The woman that I helped so many years ago, has been the pivotal point of my life, my anchor for the last what, fifteen years? And that last gift… “Can’t believe she gave us Baker Street…”

“She knows how important it is for you, for us. The place where anything has and will continue to happen.”

Sherlock smiles affectionately. Baker Street is ours. “And what about that special gift just for you, John… I am a little jealous!”

“Can’t believe she gave me her bloody Aston Martin", John laughs tenderly, befuddled!

The secret language of friendship (45)

The row had been going on for nearly an hour…

"I am a musician! What did you expect!" Rosie screams.

The sarcastic answer comes quickly. “To sleep at night as a bare minimum!”

Rosie was so cross! It was the third flat mate in the last six months… And she secretly liked this one. He's… nice. Kind of cute.

She gives Alexander her best puppy eyes. “I can’t help it if I like to play when everything is really calm…” but it clearly didn’t work!

“And I like to SLEEP! Ro, I have classes early every weekday, I must sleep!” He was as defeated as Rosie. I don’t want to leave her… hmmm Baker Street. 

With a sigh, Rosie says “I can go in the basement… I won’t bother anyone.”

Not wanting the girl he now considered a friend to stay hours in a mouldy basement, he concedes. “I can try to plug up my ears… if you promise to not play your violin after 2AM!”

With a cute smile, Rosie asks “Maybe 3AM?”

“No!” Alexander chuckles. “Don’t even try!” He switches on the kettle. “Do you want tea?”

“Yes please... with sugar!..."

He smiles. “I know… like your papa.”

"... Still friends?”

"Yes."

He’s so nice I think I’ll keep him! And yeah, I don’t have to go in the basement!

A secret decision (159)

God, I am old… Sherlock was still in bed, waiting for his traditional birthday breakfast. Rosie's voice in the kitchen was a gift in itself, having her with them for the weekend was brilliant!  With her heavy schedule – she was a third-year student at Oxford as well as the soloist of the University Orchestra – her visits to London were rare.

She’s a woman now. This isn’t helping me at all to forget my painful knees! He chuckles as he sits in the bed. I’m too old for running after bad guys like I’m still in my thirties. But, I can’t stop. The idea of spending his days alone while John was at work was unbearable.  He loves his job so much… I can’t take that away from him.  

Moving out of London… An image of a remote cottage near a cute village somewhere in Sussex, springs to his mind. A few beehives for me, John would have time to write the next James Bond… he sighs and smiles as the door of the bedroom opened.

After the pancakes and bacon, John pushes an envelope in his husband hand while kissing him gently.  “Happy Birthday, love”.

Opening the envelope, Sherlock realizes that it was the doctor’s retirement papers. “It’s time.” John simply says with tears in his eyes, Sherlock kisses him back.

A secret sign (221)

John places a hand on the small of Sherlock’s back. “All right love?” They were standing in the middle of the empty flat, their books, chairs and everything else already on the way to Sussex.

“I can’t believe we are leaving. After everything…” He engulfs his husband tightly in his arms.

“Don’t be such drama queens! I said that my old room will be a guest room for you! So you won’t be visiting, you’re going to be right at home when you want to do things in London!” Kissing them one after the other, she adds with a twinkle in her eyes. “And Alexander is on the verge of liking you!”

“Me? I always liked your fiancé!” Sherlock protests, winking, while John theatrically rolls his eyes.

“Fiancé? I am always the last one to know what’s going on in this family…”

“Oh…” The ex-detective-soon-to-be-beekeeper says, placing a small kiss on their daughter’s cheek.

“No!” She pushes them thru the front door as their car full of their most personal items was waiting.

“But, it’s funny. For a second time?”

Chuckling, while she fusses with the keys, Rosie chides without conviction. “Papa... Stop it!”

“What are you talking about!” John explodes, frowning, then it suddenly becomes clear. The sign of three… “We are going to be grandparents! Oh. My. God. A baby!”