Both men were awakened by a bright morning sunshine.
Sherlock turned around to look at John, laying on his side, he asked: <<You think it's friendship, John?>>
<<Yes, Sherlock, it's friendship>>, the former soldier stated, yawning.
<<Why are you so sure?>> , the detective asked again.
<<I'm not gay, you - asexual. What it still can be?>>
<<But I kissed you!>>, Sherlock protested.
<<I know, three times.>>, John stated and licked his lips.
<<So how many times is enough to mean something?>>
Both men heard Mrs Hudson calling them for dinner, John didn't answer and just walked to the kitchen. John was puzzled. His thoughts were denying his emotions. He wasn't sure anymore.
Sherlock followed him and sat down next to him.
<<Hey, Mrs Hudson.>>, he greeted the landlady.
She smiled happily and nodded.
Everyone started to eat, staring at their own meal.
Only a few times Mrs Hudson looked at Sherlock and then at John, hoping to find an explanation for yesterday's loud noises from their room. Then she looked back at her meal because no one was looking at her.
Once Sherlock looked at John and met his gaze. The former soldier looked worried, then he looked at his daughter then back at the detective, so Sherlock finally got the object of John's thoughts.
The doctor had an inner contradiction, he didn't know how to come out to Rosie if something would begin between him and Sherlock.
The detective also was thinking about how to tell her something like this, but unlike john he came to the conclusion that it would be nothing new for Rosie. She didn't know it vice versa. There always were two dads for her and even if they would be a couple or not. Rosie would have two dads anyways.
After the dinner John asked Mrs Hudson to take care about Rosie and the men went outside for a little walk.
They layed on the ground in the park and watched the stars until they saw a shooting star.
<<Sherlock, have you seen it?>>, John asked excited.
<<Yes, I have.>>, Sherlock answered smiling.
<<You know, we have a free wish now.>>, John said closing his eyes and getting ready to make a wish.
Sherlock didn't thought about to wish something, he just watched his friend being totally peaceful while wishing something.
<<Done.>>, John answered and looked in Sherlock's eyes to see whether something changed or not.
The Detective just smiled softly, looking at him.
<<Did you make a wish?>>, the Doctor asked.
<<No, I haven't.>>, Sherlock answered smirking.
<<Why?>>, John asked a bit shocked but laughing.
<<Never mind, let's go home. It's cold here.>>, Sherlock said, stood up and grabbed John's hand to help him to stand up.
John took his hand and didn't think to let Sherlock's hand go again. The detective liked it.
They stood under a street lamp still holding hands together until John brought up the topic again.
<<Sherlock.. I don't know what it is but if it is something, we'll have to talk to Rosie and Mrs Hudson.>>, John said.
<<I'm not worried about this.>>, the detective answered relaxed.
<<Why can you take it so easy?>>, the doctor asked with a little worry in his voice.
<<Because it really is.>>, Sherlock answered, <<I mean Mrs Hudson knows it anyways and Rosie had two dads even before.>>
<<You mean...>>, John started but got interrupted.
<<I mean nothing will change for them. You really don't have to worry. And the others think like Mrs Hudson. You know.>>, Sherlock continued smirking a bit.
<<Okay.>>, John agreed sighing.
They walked through a narrow street. The walls of the houses they were passing seemed to getting closer and closer and the men were walking close to each other. Sherlock was so tempted to kiss John and John felt the same, the night atmosphere and a "moving" closer walls were just about to bring them together. They passed the street and later appeared at home and went to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
THE DAY BEFORE THE FUTURE BEGINS (BBC SHERLOCK RESUMPTION)
FanfictionA junkie who solves crimes to get high. And the doctor who never came home from the war. It's all about the legend, the stories, the adventures. There is a last refuge for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted. There is a final court of appeal...