"Sorry Sir, we can't let you past here."
"Don't worry, he's with me."
Sherlock reached out and lifted the the crime scene tape for me to duck under. I nodded a thanks and followed him across the street to the house in question. We were working with new recruits, people who had only heard rumours of Sherlock's genius, and a few looks were tossed our way as we entered the building.
I followed him closely, and we ascending the stairs, although Sherlock had more of a skip in his step than I did, so I lagged behind. He entered the room, and was already throwing around conclusions and analysis results before I entered the room.
Watching him work continued to be a source of amazement for me. You would have thought that eventually watching his mind work would have become monotonous, but yet I stood back and watched as he checked under every surface and observed every possible conclusion to the case. He certainly was a great specimen. He faced Mycroft and gave him his conclusions, which even had him stunned for a moment or two. He'd solved the case. Hardly two minutes in.
"Well.. Thank you, Sherlock. We'll look into it." Mycroft said, nodding in approval to his colleagues.
"No need to thank me. You never usually do. Come, John."
I sighed, somewhat embarrassed that I needed to obey the blunt order he cast. We descended the stairs and Sherlock hailed a cab, that new recruits already talking in hushed admiration for the detective. A cab pulled up, and I was more pulled than helped inside as Sherlock recited our address to the cab driver, who nodded as a response.
He pulled away, and there was a moment of brief silence between us, before I started a conversation.
"That was more impressive than usual, Sherlock." I stated.
"Oh, it was simple. If those inspectors had the talent to look further than their noses they would have noticed the purse."
I decided against asking how the hell he managed to solve that case through a purse. I knew he would have simply spent the rest of the journey explaining his extraordinary theories.
"I'm impressed. Somehow more than usual.." I murmured, and Sherlock turned to face me.
"Anything to do with our experiment?" He asked, scanning my face for emotion.
"You really despise the term relationship don't you?"
"Well, I prefer experiment, because that's what it is. Acting on the chemical reaction that happen in our brains and make us feel as though we're compatible mates."
My throat seized up slightly at the vague and scientific way he put us, as though I was nothing more than a lab rat for him to experiment his emotions on. It felt so, heartless.
I wasn't sure that I liked that too much..
"Yes.. I suppose you're right." I sighed, rubbing my legs and suddenly avoiding eye contact.
Sherlock faced me, but I didn't turn to meet his gaze.
"I could use the term relationship if it most pleases you." He said, bluntly.
"No, Sherlock. That's fine."
"I feel as though I have offended you."
"I'm not offended." I choked, my walls falling down slightly.
"John, you must know how I feel about you, surely. My methods are usually classed as odd, but that doesn't change that I have the feeling most couples do. Perhaps more, I can't be sure."
I faced him, and noticed that he was looking down to his coat buttons.
"I'm not offended, Sherlock. Honestly.. I've seen you at your best and your worse. I don't think that you really can offend me."
He chuckled, and I eventually joined him.
The cab stopped outside our apartment, and we clambered out, helping Sherlock out from the other side. He took my wrist and pulled me just inside the door of 221b, and slams the door before us. He scanned the hallway, listening intently for a moment and zoning into the features of the apartment.
"Sherlock, what are yo-"
He places his hands on my cheek and leans in for a kiss, shutting his eyes and locking lips with me. I rested my hands on his chest, closing my eyes too and enjoying the spontaneous moment. He pulled me in closer, holding his forehead to mine and placing his hand on the wall behind me. He broke the kiss almost as suddenly as it began, and we both smiled at each other surrounded by our warm emotions.
"I care, John. I promise I do."
"I know you do, Sherlock. I know."
I pulled him into a tight embrace round his waist, and he held me close around the centre of my back, feeling so incredibly cosy in the detective's long arms and soft coat.
"Dinner later?" Sherlock asked, putting his hand on my cheek again.
"Of course." I chuckled, and with a final squeeze of our hug, we climbed the stairs to 221b.