the richenbach hero // johnlock

Chapter Seven

Sherlock grabbed John by the wrist and pulled him out of the flat. Sherlock was grinning and John was blushing madly.
"Sherlock. You're holding my hand"

"No"
He said, smirking
"I'm holding your wrist"
Sherlock slipped his hand down into John's, lacing their fingers together.
"Now, I'm holding your hand"
Sherlock turned to John, grinning like an idiot. John giggled and smiled up at the man.
'He's such a dork. And I love him'
Sherlock squeezed John's hand gently before dropping it. A cab pulled up to the side of the pavement and the two climbed in.
'Just like old times'
John allowed his mind to wander to the old days, before the fall, before Mary, before it all.
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'You don't have a girlfriend, then?'
John looked at Sherlock expectantly. The detective was facing the window, eagerly searching for the murderer. His eyes flitted about the street.

'Girlfriend...no...not really my area'

'Mm.'
The two sat in silence for a moment before John spoke again.
'Oh, right. D'you have a boyfriend then'

Sherlock's head jerked up and his eyes' rested on Johns'.

'Which is fine by the way'

'I know its fine'
Sherlock snapped.

'So you have a boyfriend'

'No'
Sherlock's tone was harsh. John smiled awkwardly.

'Right. Okay. You're unattached. Like me. Fine. Good'

Sherlock turned his gaze back to the window, allowing the conversation to process. Then, suddenly he turned back to John.
'John, um ... I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any-'

'No'
John interrupted.
'No, I'm not asking. No. I'm just saying, it's all fine'

'Good. Thank you'
Sherlock's eyes returned to the street outside.
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A soft smile grew onto John's worn features. He hadn't realised how old he looked now. New lines on his face, crinkles in his skin, even his eyes had aged. John sighed. Sherlock glanced at John, and took his hand again, gently cradling it in his slender fingers. John glanced up at him, grinning. Sherlock smiled reassuringly. What he was reassuring John of, he wasn't sure, but it seemed to help nonetheless. The cab pulled to a stop and Sherlock slid out of the seat, leaving John to pay. He tossed some money at the cabbie and followed close behind the detective. The restaurant was unfamiliar to John, as was the area of town. Very backwater and under the radar.
'Still trying to stay dead I see'
John still practically had to jog to keep up with Sherlock, but at least he held the doors for John. The lady at the desk smiled fondly at the two, eyeing John. He awkwardly returned the smile as she showed them to their table. The restaurant was small, wooden floors and walls, metal plate roofs, beamed and vaulted ceilings rose high above them. Pastel coloured blue walls made the whole place light, and windows over looked a small river. Some windows had seating in them, others didn't. Plants lined the walls and counter tops. There weren't many people, but the food looked nice, as did the people around. It was a nice setting, very calm, serene. John studied Sherlock's features, drinking him in, taking in account for every line, every crook, every corner, memorising every inch of his face. Sherlock looked almost the same, his porcelain pale skin still beautiful in the gentle morning sun. His eyes held galaxies, and John melted into them. The brilliant greens and blues combined to for nebulae in his eyes. Two years later and he still managed to take Johns breath away. Sherlock looked up at John, eyes locking with his. Johns face looked older, like he had been gone longer than two years. The creases in his face had deepened, and he had lost much of his tan. The waitress came along and took their orders, then left with a flirtatious smile at John, making Sherlock angry.

"You're actually eating?"
John questioned.

"Yes, John. I haven't, ah, eaten in quiet a while...."

John reached over and grabbed Sherlock's arm softly.
"Hey, you okay, Sherlock?"

"Yes, yes John, I'm fine"
His cheeks were tainted a light pink and his lips formed a soft smile. John wanted to kiss him. More than anything he wanted to kiss Sherlock. The food arrived and Sherlock dove in. John sat back, trying hard not to laugh. Seeing Sherlock eat like child was not only humorous, but also slightly adorable. Sherlock was finished with his plate before John even began. He smiled at the detective.
"You know, it's nice, seeing you eat"

"It's nice?"

John chuckled.
"Yes, it is. You used to not eat at all, so seeing you eat is, almost comforting"

"Hm. Well, alright then"

The two sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the meal, John barely touching his own food. The bill came, along with the waitresses phone number. Sherlock's face scrunched up as he pulled the number from the bill.
"John, it would seem you have an admirer"
He held up the number, eyes flashing with anger. John snickered at him.

"Would it make you feel better if we held hands as we leave?"
Johns tone was condescending, but Sherlock still blushed. They payed the bill and stood, Sherlock lacing his fingers in Johns, making sure the waitress saw. The cabbie smiled at the two when they climbed in, hands still together. They arrived back at the flat, John plopping down into his chair. Sherlock stood across from him, eyes studying John. They sat like that for a few moments then Sherlock sighed.
"John...I feel you need to hear this....I didn't die to protect me, or to stop Moriarty"

Johns brow furrowed.
"What?"

"John, there were three snipers. One for Greg....one for Ms. Hudson.....and"
Sherlock looked at John, eyes solemn.
"One for you....."

John stared at Sherlock blankly.
"Wh...what?"

"He had killers trained on you, John. My only three friends would have died, if I didn't"

Johns mouth formed an O and he kept opening and closing his mouth.
"But...why?"

"Well, I needed an incentive, and you...."
His voice trailed off.
"I couldn't lose you John. Not you, never you"
His voice broke a little.

"Sherlock..."
John stood and went over to Sherlock, gently pressing his lips against Sherlock's, wrapping his arms gently around his neck. Sherlock winded his arms around Johns waist, pulling him closer. John rose to his toes as Sherlock kissed him. Sherlock was lost in John, not wanting the moment to end, then, of course, John pulled back.

"I love you"
John whispered.

"I love you too"