Story Notes: This is the sequel to Divinest Sense. If you haven't yet read that, I highly recommend that you do so. Unless you don't really care about the plot, and are just here for the Sex Holiday. In which case, carry on…


Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses.

— Lao Tzu


Chapter 1 — Sense of Time

John had lost all sense of time. The self-proclaimed sociopath in bed with him had turned out to be a consummate cuddler. What's more, Sherlock — who up until yesterday had refrained from all sexual contact on the grounds that it wasn't worth the trouble — also possessed a surprisingly healthy libido. So: cuddle, kiss, come, catnap, continue…

Time? Meaningless.

Sherlock awoke slowly, desperately trying to cling to the fragments of an incredible dream. John had been there, touching him. Whispering words of praise. Holding him close. Sherlock could still feel those arms around him. He never wanted it to end.

As he reluctantly returned to consciousness, Sherlock's dream morphed into reality — a reality in which he was, indeed, wrapped in John's arms. With a happy sigh, he snuggled closer. The chest beneath his cheek rumbled as John let out a sleepy hum.

"Is it morning?"


"Are you going to let me out of bed today?"

"We'll see…"

John chuckled, tugging Sherlock's curls to draw his head back so they could gaze into each other's eyes.

"Good morning."

"It really is."

Over breakfast, John finally brought up one of the loose ends that had been pushed to the back of his mind for the past couple of days. "You never did tell me how you figured out the clues that were supposed to be for me without asking for my help."

"They weren't for you. They were quotes from the book of John in the bible, which Mycroft so thoughtfully left in my bedside table drawer."

"Ah. And where did they lead?"

"Inside the room marked TO HELP YOU PASS THE TIME there are four cabinets with locks that resemble digital clocks. The chapter and verse number of each quote corresponds to the time to which to set each clock."

"What's in the cabinets?"

"Books, games, DVDs, and musical instruments."

"Any more clues?"

"I'm not sure. I was somewhat… distracted… at the time."

Sherlock's face clouded over, and John took his hand. "I'm sorry, love. I should have been honest with you from the start."

"I'm sorry, too. I never should have suspected you of conspiring with my brother."

"We were both idiots. But I think things worked out okay, don't you?"

"I do."

John stepped through the door labeled TO HELP YOU PASS THE TIME and glanced around the comfortable sitting room. "So you've already opened all of these cabinets, then?"

"All but one. I knew the codes, but I wasn't sure which one went with which lock. I should have deduced that the one with the games would be He must increase, but I must decrease."

Sherlock set the digital clock to 3:30, and opened the bulletproof glass door.

"Wow — this is quite a collection. Your brother has eclectic taste."

John scanned the shelves. Childhood favourites like Operation, Mousetrap, and Battleship shared space with classics like Chess, Backgammon, and Othello. Pens, paper, and several decks of cards sat next to a professional darts set. There were word games (Scrabble, Boggle) and logic games (Mastermind, Guess Who?) and random games (Trivial Pursuit, the Truth or Dare edition of Jenga). There were also no fewer than seven versions of Cluedo: Super Cluedo Challenge, Cluedo Vintage Edition, Cluedo Master Detective, Cluedo Super Sleuth, Cluedo Mysteries, a Cluedo card game, and a Cluedo DVD game.

"These bring back memories," Sherlock said, half to himself.

"I thought you told me you didn't play with other children."

"Mycroft doesn't count. He's seven years older than I am, so he had an unfair advantage for the first few years of my life, and after that he started cheating."

John snorted. "You think you're pretty good, eh?"

"I know I am."

"We'll see. I can be quite competitive…"

Sherlock had given the contents of the other cabinets a cursory inspection a couple of days ago, but now, with John by his side, he was ready to examine them more closely. In his emotionally compromised state, he had paid little attention to the television or DVDs. He was chagrined to realise that there was actually a complete entertainment centre, including a large collection of CDs, as well.

"Oh, John Denver," John said. "He's one of my guilty pleasures. My dad used to listen to him all the time, so his songs always make me nostalgic."

John popped in the CD and music began to fill the room.

"This is a waltz," Sherlock said, surprised. He held out his hand to John. "Dance with me."


"I never joke about dancing."

The familiar lyrics took on a new meaning as John stepped into Sherlock's arms and allowed himself to be led.

You fill up my senses

Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again

Sherlock danced like someone who was born to it, graceful and expressive. John smiled up at him and began to sing along:

Come, let me love you

Let me give my life to you

Let me drown in your laughter

Let me die in your arms

Let me lay down beside you

Let me always be with you

Come, let me love you

Come love me again

With his usual brilliance, Sherlock had already learned the words to the first verse, so when they came around again he joined in with his rich, dark voice:

You fill up my senses

Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again

End Notes: I'll be updating bi-weekly, in honor of bi-John — aka fortnightly, in honor of forthright John. Please follow, so you don't miss the next chapter.

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