Confessions

Chapter Two

Several hours later, just as the sun was rising, John woke and, yawning, made his way into the kitchen. "Morning John," called Sherlock cheerfully. John tried not to blush as he remembered his dream last night. "Morning Sherlock," he said casually. "Tea?" John's eyebrows shot up as Sherlock asked him if he would like tea, then handed a cup to him without waiting for an answer. "Um, thanks,"  he said as he sipped the drink cautiously.

"You're welcome John," the consulting detective smiled as he sat down with his own cup of tea. John smiled carefully back. Sherlock was definately acting odd this morning, he thought. "Is - is something wrong?" he asked his friend carefully. "No," Sherlock took another sip of tea. "Why would you think that?" "Well, it's just, being so nice and with the-the tea and that I just thought-"

"So I can't be nice just because I want to? I have to have a motive or something!" Sherlock snapped at his flat mate. "N-no I didn't mean that Sherlock!" John said, but his friend was already walking away, not bothering to take his tea with him. The reason he had reacted badly was because he thought John had found out how he felt about him. Still, why can't I be nice for no reason, Sherlock thought to himself as he curled up on the couch facing the wall.

John took his friend's tea cup into the kitchen as well as his own, he knew Sherlock wouldn't finish it now he was sulking. But John felt bad for questioning his flat mate, even though he had done so because behavior like that was alarming in Sherlock, he usually wasn't extra nice unless he had a reason. Perhaps this time it had just been his kind side coming out...no! what was he saying? Sherlock wasn't like that.

John was so absorbed in his thoughts as he washed and dried the two tea cups that he didn't notice his flat mate walk up behind him. "John, look, I'm sorry-"

John spun around, shocked. Sherlock, instead of sulking, had come to talk to him, to apologise! Something was definately changed about the consulting detective, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"No, it's fine Sherlock. I should apologise, actually."

"Oh. Alright. Apology accepted!" and with that Sherlock went and collapsed back on the couch. John frowned. He really was getting quite worried about how his friend was behaving. He walked over to the couch felt his flat mate's forhead, checking he wasn't ill or something. Sherlock shivered at the sudden contact, but pulled himself together and snapped, "I'm fine, John." Or at least he tried to snap. It came out more of a whisper. 

His blogger frowned again at the funny tone in Sherlock's voice, it sounded as if...No. He must be mistaking something. Sherlock doesn't feel like that. He will never return my love. John told himself sharply as he walked of to sit in his armchair.

There was a long sigh from the couch.

"I'm bored. Are you sure Lestrade hasn't texted?" 

"I'm sure." John couldn't help but smile. That was more like Sherlock. The consulting detective got of the couch and started pacing. After about two minutes he went into the kitchen. John winced, knowing he would probably being doing an experiment, possibly involving human body parts and John's teapot.

About half an hour later Sherlock called out for John to come into the kitchen. John frowned, remembering yesterday, then walked in. Sherlock was not, however, holding a disfigured head. He sat at the table making notes as he stared at a clear glass container, which had water and a human hand in it. Next to it sat another container with just water in it.

"John, put your hand in there," Sherlock gestured towards the pot containing just water. John sighed, but didn't question his flat mate. He stuck his hand in the liquid, wincing as he realised it was hot, it felt like it had just come from the kettle. "Okay, take it out," Sherlock studied his friends hand, then motioned towards the door. "You can go now." John did just that.