Falling For You

The Silent Treatment

John wondered if he would ever get used to having Sherlock back on Baker Street.  Of course, he still lived with Mary, but now that Sherlock was back, he wondered what he would do.  Maybe he would tell Sherlock about how he felt.  No.  Sherlock had probably deduced it already anyway, and he would have confronted John if he had felt the same way.  But John couldn't be with Sherlock and not with him.  It would be too hard to try and conceal his feelings anymore.  So, he decided he would have to do his best to ignore Sherlock.  Maybe then his feelings would go away.  And, if they didn't, he could marry Mary Morstan and move away.  Start over somewhere.  Try and forget Sherlock for good.  

Three days into the silent treatment, Sherlock caught on that something was up.  He wondered if he had done anything upsetting to John or if John was just trying to conceal the feelings he may or may not have had for Sherlock.  So, Sherlock did a little digging.  Lestrade had insisted that Sherlock rest after his return from the dead, so he didn't have any cases.  Well, he had one.  John's Case.  He wondered what he would name it once he had solved it... or did John have to come up with the name?  Sherlock thought that maybe he could type it up and present it to John like a project or something.  Though, Sherlock also thought that it would piss John if he found out that Sherlock had been snooping.

So, Sherlock had Mycroft over while John was out and ignoring him.

"Brother Dear," Mycroft said as they were getting into an intense game of Cluedo.  "When are you going to tell John?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and continued trying to figure out who the murderer was.  He pretended not to know what Mycroft was talking about.  "Hm?"

Mycroft took a deep breath and took his turn.  "You like him, Sherlock.  Stop denying it," Mycroft advised.

Sherlock scoffed, but deep down he knew that Mycroft was right.  He had started thinking about John in a light more than friends ever since Mycroft sent him that bloody text.  And now that he was back and John was back to his usual self, well, he was for a day or so before he started ignoring Sherlock all together, Sherlock couldn't stop thinking about his little hedgehog.  Er... friend.

"Shut up," Sherlock said.

"I'm just saying.  He loves you, Sherlock.  You know he does," Mycroft replied.

Sherlock flung the Cluedo game board across the room in frustration.  "I said, shut up."

Just then, John Watson entered the flat.  He looked at the game board that was lying limply on the ground across the room, and then he looked at Sherlock who looked very frazzled.

"Everything okay?" John wondered.

"Brilliant," Mycroft smiled.  

"Yeah.  Um, okay," John replied as he walked into the kitchen.  Mycroft looked at Sherlock with a certain look that pissed Sherlock off.  He jumped out of his chair and practically ran to the kitchen after John. Mycroft sat back in John's chair and watched Sherlock get totally pissed off like he was a child or something.

"What's this about?" John asked as an infuriated Sherlock backed him up against the kitchen table.

"Give me your damn arm, John," Sherlock demanded.  John obeyed but he was extremely confused.

Sherlock wrapped his cold fingers around John's forearm and placed two fingers from his other hand on his wrist.  An accelerated pulse.  Sherlock looked into John's eyes with his fingers still on John's wrist.  Dilated pupils.  Sherlock scoffed and released his grip on John's arm, which fell limply beside John.  

"Accelerated pulse and dilated pupils.  Are you quite satisfied, Mycroft?" Sherlock barked at Mycroft.  Mycroft got up from John's seat and straightened his suit.  He was afraid that it had gotten a bit wrinkled as he was sitting down.  

"Confession time, Sherlock," Mycroft warned with sly grin.  Then he exited the flat without another word.

John was staring at Sherlock, staring through him.  Sherlock had his back to John, unable to turn around and look at his short friend in his beautiful eyes.  Sherlock was positive that he had infuriated John and that he had just messed up his chanced of ever even being with him because he just had to prove to Mycroft that he wasn't afraid of love and he wasn't afraid of being human for once in his life.

"Sherlock," John whispered.  Sherlock, with tears in his eyes, turned to finally face his fears.

"I'm-"

"What was that about?" John asked, walking towards Sherlock.  Each step was soft, like a mouse.  Sherlock found himself crying and blushing all at the same time.  He turned his face.

"Do you love me?"