Falling For You

In the Act

He stood there, dumbfounded.  He didn't know what to say because... well.  What was he supposed to say?  His fists were clenched and he was so angry.  He'd been by Sherlock's side night and day ever since he was admitted to the hospital.  After Sherlock had admitted that he loved him back.  And there in the supply closet was a snogging fest between Irene Adler and Sherlock Holmes.

"Oi!" John Watson yelled, saucily positioning his hands on his hips in annoyance.  

Irene pulled away from Sherlock and looked at John, her hands still on the neck of Sherlock's hospital gown.  "John," she nodded with a smile on her face.

"Off," Sherlock demanded sharply at Irene.  She obliged and slowly backed away from him, her eyes still focused on John.

"Jealous?" she asked jokingly.

Sherlock huffed in response as John opened his mouth.  "Pissed actually," he corrected.

"It's not what you think," Sherlock tried.  He was getting weak without the help of the medicine.  He needed the antibiotics pumping through his bloodstream and he needed the morphine to ease the pain.  Though, he wasn't sure if the pain in his heart could be helped with morphine or not.

"So you weren't just snogging a supposed-to-be-dead sex worker?" John asked as he folded his arms tightly across his chest.

Sherlock tried to think of his best way out of this.  He deduced that John wanted the truth, so that was what he intended on giving.  "Okay, so it is what you think.  But it's not-"

"Still here, in case you were wondering," Irene said, raising her hand in a jeering fashion.

"Yeah, could you leave?" John asked, his eyes angry like flames.

"Sorry, Sherl.  Didn't mean to get your boyfriend all riled up," Irene joked without realizing that Sherlock and John were actually an item. 

"Well, I am actually his boyfriend so piss off," John snapped in reply.

Irene looked to Sherlock for confirmation, but he didn't say anything.  But he wasn't denying it.  irene Adler felt bad about her actions.  She hadn't meant to come between them, especially when Sherlock had just not died when everyone thought he had.

She turned a shade of red in embarrassment.  "Oh, well. I'll just be on my way.  Goodbye, Mr. Holmes," she said softly.  

Then she left John and Sherlock standing in the supply closet wondering what was going to happen next.  If it was over for them because Sherlock hadn't gotten her off fast enough and because he hadn't exactly stopped her from kissing him.  But he wasn't sure how these things worked, not that it was an excuse.  He just didn't know how he was meant to go about kissing and how to tell someone he wasn't interested in the middle of an ill-advised snogging session.

Also, he didn't know how to apologize. He didn't know what kind of apology would ever be enough.