Strange Detective

The eye of paris

"Sooo, fancy a trip to the Eiffel Tower?" Sherlock grinned, grabbing Johns hand and leading him through the crowds of people.

"We'd never get a ticket now, we'd have to pay in advance" John pointed out.

"John your forgetting how we got here in the first place; one I have the ability to levitate, two I can always make a portal" Sherlock informed him.

"Alright alright, so are you hungry because you know we haven't had any food and it's actually getting dark now, how long have we been out?" John asked, noticing how the sun was no longer at its highest point, probably an hour till sunset.

"I do wish I had the power of invisibility" Sherlock muttered, looking at the many crowds of people.

"Come on then Sherl" John called, pulling Sherlock towards a small cafe that sold pastries as well as drinks.

They got a table by the window just as the sun went down just a little bit more. They had some sort of French pastry that Sherlock ordered, surprising John with his fluent French.

"I never knew you could speak French" John said in awe once they were sipping coffees and eating their pastries.

"It's easy really, took me a few hours, it's quite like Spanish but some of it's a bit different." Sherlock explained, taking another small mouthful at his apple turnover.

John smiled at Sherlock, his face showing the usual comments of "amazing" and "fantastic".

John continued to eat his chocolate pastry, pulling a small bit off with his fingers he held it up to Sherlocks lips, gently coaxing Sherlock to eat it.

"What?" Sherlock asked, looking at the food with confusion.

"Eat it" John commanded, soldier voice slipping and so Sherlock obeyed immediately, taking it between his teeth, his lips gently brushing the tips of Johns fingers.

Sherlock chewed slowly, savoring the sweet chocolate flavor that lingered after he'd swallowed, mixing with the fruitiness of his turnover. He then pulled a piece of his turnover and held it up to Johns lips who took it, his tongue touching Sherlocks fingers slightly as he accepted the offering as Sherlock had done for him.

They talked for a while longer and then Sherlock paid and led John back outside.

"The Eiffel Tower is shut to visitors today sooo, I'm thinking we go today, sound good to you?" Sherlock said, it was around twenty minutes til sunset and Sherlock wanted a better view.

"Isn't that illegal?" John ventured.

"When have we ever been legal, when has that factor ever crossed our minds"

"Touché"

Sherlock lead them to a park again with no people around, he then made a portal that lead straight to the top of the tower. Sherlock guided John through alongside himself before quickly closing the portal and facing into the wind that now bit at their skin.

Sherlock looked out over the railing and pulled John alongside him as the sun began to set; the sky glowed pinks and purples and orange and red.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Sherlock whispered.

John looked over at Sherlock, his face illuminated by the sky, glowing softly in the embers of light.

"Yes it is" John replied softly, eyes still focused on the detective at his side.
John took out his phone and took a quick picture of the silhouette of Sherlock in the sunlight that bathed his skin in a perfect glow.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked suspiciously, nervously eyeing the phone in Johns hand and the smile on his face.

"Cherishing the moment, it's picture worthy" John defended, his smile growing. "Come on let's get the two of us together, we're in Paris Sher"

John stepped closer to Sherlock, and held the phone out in front of them and took a single picture.

"Sherlock you've got to smile!" John complained when he looked at the picture. "Come on we're doing it again"

John held the phone out again and then snaked his arm round Sherlocks waist, startling the detective a little. He then gently tickled Sherlocks side with his hand making Sherlock start giggling and took a few pictures as well as a video to remember the moment long after it had passed.

"Go on then, you have to show me" Sherlock said, hand held out for the phone, John feared Sherlock would delete them so instead sent them to Sherlocks phone.

"I don't trust you, you'll delete it, I've sent them in messages" John informed him, slipping the phone safely into a zipped pocket against his chest.

Sherlock huffed and slid out his own phone, unlocking it to inspect Johns pictures, he actually thought they were good but he wouldn't give John that information. He took a screenshot of each photo treasuring them for later.

Once the sun was long gone, they still stood there, the stars now twinkling above and the moon shining brightly, John leaned against Sherlocks arms it was getting colder and so he craved his body heat.

Sherlock took off his coat and flapped it back inside out, it grew bigger in size and shone a silky crimson, he then threw it over his shoulders again and it draped itself around him and John, holding them close together, as if coaxing them into something they wouldn't consciously do on their own.

"Warm?" Sherlock asked softly, hand gently stroking up Johns arm and down again leaving his skin tingling and sensitive. John just hummed in approval and rested his head gently on Sherlocks shoulder.

They stayed like it for a while, the cold forgotten and Paris itself, a distant memory. John had wrapped his strong arm around Sherlocks slender waist, tugging him close, the cape still hiding them from the cold.

Sherlock rested his chin on Johns head and held his hand possessively around Johns back. They slotted into each other like two pieces from a different puzzle. Same template, different format. There was the mysterious jigsaw and then the kinder one, easily read and understood, but the mysterious one was jumbled and scattered, still being pieced patiently together and learning.

"We should be getting home soon, as doctors we should know" Sherlock chuckled, his chest warm against Johns face.

"Yes, maybe then we can be warmer" John suggested, slipping his hand into Sherlocks, tentative and gentle. He could feel Sherlocks fingers tremble slightly in his grip, whether it was the nerve damage or nervousness, John wasn't sure but he suspected the latter.

Sherlock slowly conjured a portal in front of them leading them straight into the living room and effectively collapsing onto the sofa together, the cape standing off to the doorway and settling there.

John removed his coat and threw it over the arm of the chair, now only wearing his shirt, John slipped off Sherlocks dress jacket off his shoulders and pulled him back into him, his tight purple shirt stretched taught over his skin. John held an arm around Sherlock, his hand curving round and reaching round to Sherlocks opposite shoulder, palm against his right collarbone.

Sherlock leaned into the touch and relaxed as John began to gently trace patterns through Sherlocks shirt making him tremble slightly beneath him. John let his other hand gently card through Sherlocks hair, chocolate curls tangling round his fingers.

He smelt like fresh air and pastries, he smelt sweet and young. John couldn't help but revel in how the detective smelt, looked and acted around him, he wasn't a sociopath, he was a child at heart, vulnerable and broken by past events and cruel words and John was fixing him bit by bit, stitch by stitch.