Falling For You

A Gift

Sherlock woke up from his tear-induced nap and found that John was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock's heart instantly raced because he thought that something had happened to his love. Moriarty was dead, but what if someone else had taken him? Sherlock jumped up from his seat on the sofa and raced around the apartment frantically searching for John, but he wasn't home. Sherlock was about ready to call Lestrade and inform him that John had been taken when Sherlock heard the front door open.

"Who is it, Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock called down the stairs.

"Just John," she replied.

"It's never just John," Sherlock muttered under his breath.

John cautiously walked up the stairs to his flat, the one he shared with the love of his life, with a heavy box in his hand. He'd spent quite a bit of money on the contents of the cardboard box, but he knew that Sherlock would love it, so it would be worth every pound. John found Sherlock waiting for him by the door of the flat and he looked at John quizzically.

"What's that?" he asked, eyeing the big box in John's arms.

John set the box down on the floor and gestured for Sherlock to open it. "A gift," he replied.

Sherlock looked at John suspiciously. Sherlock never really got gifts, so it was a bit strange for him. He got down on his knees and carefully opened the lid of the box to reveal...

His heart stopped. Inside the box was a perfect puppy. An Irish setter, to be exact. Sherlock found himself crying as he stared down at the small dog that resembled his old pal Redbeard. John crouched down next to Sherlock and wrapped his arm around him. He wasn't sure if the crying meant he liked the gift or not, but he hoped it did.

"You can take him out, Sherl," John said.

Sherlock nodded and gently scooped the puppy into his arms, hugging the small creature to his chest. John was beginning to tear up as well. Sherlock looked so different with the small dog in his arms. He looked happy and peaceful which was very much unlike the Sherlock John had grown to know and love. The one who shot the wall out of boredom.

"John..." Sherlock began. But he had no idea what to say. There was no amount of thanks or praise that could justify John's actions here. He was totally and completely in love with both of the creatures in the room. But he felt as though he was being reunited with an old friend. Redbeard, his original first mate, had been brutally murdered in his own home, but John... John had somehow brought him back. And Sherlock knew he would be forever grateful.

"I love you," John smiled. Sherlock stroked the dog softly and looked into John's beautiful eyes.

"I love you too," Sherlock said.

Sherlock leaned in, the small dog stuck between John and Sherlock as their lips crashed together. John deepened the kiss and the dog leapt out of Sherlock's lap and curled up in a sweet ball on the floor in front of the two lovebirds. Sherlock and John both decided that this moment with the kissing and the love and the dog, was the best moment that they had ever experienced on their own and together.

And it was in that moment that the fluff of the two began. The moment of a deep and intense passion for the other and the moment where the two decided that they would never leave each other, not even in death. They would become inseparable and the whole world could know about their love. And it was in that moment that Sherlock decided that feelings were indeed an advantage, and that meant that John wasn't his weakness but his greatest strength.