A/Note: Thanks to all the reviews, wow! I'll reply to all after I post this. I hate mosquitos had a point: a lot of the problems could've been solved with communication. But if you think about it, that's how Sherlock is in the show, as well as in the ACD's stories. He always keeps things to himself. I like to think that John will slowly change him and turn him into a "good man", not just "a great man" (DI Lestrade).

In any case, this is my first published story without a beta, so it wasn't as tight as it could be. I don't mind the criticism, though. That's what fanfiction is all about, that's how we can improve as writers. I do want to thank all of you who have been reading, following, favoriting and reviewing it. I can't express how rewarding and fun this is.

Without further ado, here's the last chapter. I mean it. This is the end. This is the reward for the bad times that you had to endure. :)


29. Daily routine

John finished drying himself and stumbled into the bedroom naked, sitting down with a grunt, shoulders drooping a little.

'God, I'm knackered.'

Sherlock had been typing on his laptop, but paused to look as John entered the room and sat on the bed. His lips curled up as his eyes slid over the hardened muscles and he clicked his laptop shut.

'You handled the murderer with your usual dexterity and quite a lot of flourish today.'

John snorted. 'Flourish? I just couldn't help throwing him on that ridiculous fountain of his. Smug bastard with airs of importance!'

Sherlock crawled forward and knelt behind John, kneading his shoulders.

'Oh, that feels good, Sherlock.'

'If you lie down I'll give you a massage.'

John stood up grunting again, 'Let me get a towel to line the bed then. I just laundered the sheets.'

Groaning, John lowered himself onto his stomach, crossing his arms under his cheek. Sherlock pulled a small bottle from the bedside drawer.

'You sound like a door with rusty hinges,' Sherlock said.

'Oh, shut up.'

'Lucky for you, I can oil your hinges,' he chuckled. 'Let me warm up the oil for a bit.' He poured some in his palm and held it.

Sherlock added, 'It was entertaining to see his face as he stood up from the water in his expensive, drenched and hopelessly ruined suit.'

'He wouldn't have ended up in the fountain if he hadn't insulted you.'

Sherlock smirked, 'Ah John, always so chivalrous. You know those type of insults don't bother me.'

John felt the bed dip and Sherlock's thighs aligning with his.

'Yeah, I know. But they bother me. If Greg hand't shown up I would have punched him some more. Oooh, that feels good.'

'Could you perhaps also throw Anderson and Donovan in the water next time?'

'You know, we are still guests of the Yard in these cases. Better not get them too angry, Sherlock.'

'Then I'll settle for you throwing Mycroft in the water someday, preferably soon. I can already picture his face at his ruined suit.'

John chuckled. 'He's now officially my brother-in-law, Sherlock. Show some respect. He has always been supportive of us and is always nice to me.'

Sherlock wrinkled his nose, 'He's still annoying.'

'Yeah, sometimes. Agree.'

'He's just envious I have you.'

'You think? It's hard to tell with him, he keeps his emotions completely hidden.'

Sherlock made an annoyed huff, so John added, 'And before you think that that was a compliment, you too keep yours well under wraps. I just learned how to read you, that's all.'

'Have you noticed he gained two pounds?'

'Can't say that I have, Sherlock. I don't monitor his body. I prefer looking at yours.'

Sherlock smiled at that.

'Hmmm. Oh, this feels so good, I needed this.' John sighed. 'You still have a thing for my back, don't you?'

Sherlock made a non-committal noise.

'Even after all these years and all my scars.'

'I love your scars, they are a symbol of who you are. And also, they brought you back to me.'

'Sentimentality, Mr. Sociopath?'

'No, just a statement of facts.'

'Uh-huh, sure.'

'I'm just glad you were discharged after your injury. There was just too much eye candy around you,' he wrinkled his nose. 'Every time you were deployed I was convinced you'd meet someone else and dump me.'

'Sherlock, I've told you a million times; that was not the time and place for that, I was always too busy taking care of my patients. Plus, the only men that ever made my head turn were the ones that reminded me of you - not that many, as all of us had buzz cuts. And I was always disappointed and uninterested when I saw they weren't you.' He smiled, 'I often thought that maybe one day Mycroft would pull his strings and you would show up at Camp to surprise me.'

'I've asked him several times but he always refused to do it. "Too dangerous", he'd say.'

'Hey, he was right about that. And it all worked out in the end.'

'Except for Mr. Perfect Rugby Captain ending up at the same camp.'

'Argh, Sherlock. Will you ever forget Allan? I was sixteen! Plus, the camp was huge, we weren't even in the same areas most of the time.'


'Okay, you're not helping me relax.'

'Maybe this will?'

John jolted slightly as he felt bare skin on top of his back. 'When did you take off your dressing gown?'

'Just as you lay down. I would have gotten oil all over the sleeves if I had kept it on.'

'Mmm, this feels good. But Sherlock, fair warning: I'm too knackered for sex.'

'Consider this a "full body massage", then.'

With the massage oil, Sherlock's warm skin was gliding easily on top of him. The shins were a little too bony on his calves, but the thighs and the chest felt really good. And of course, there was something firmer rubbing between his cheeks.

'I need to get a different massage oil. I can't kiss your nape and taste your skin if it's covered with it.'

'I guess you'll have to settle for kissing me on the lips then.' John twisted his face and they kissed for a while.

Sherlock broke the kiss so he could use one of his hands to spread the oil and fit himself between John's thighs.

'You've got me addicted to this, ever since that first time I bought lubricant.'



'I knew you had a thing for my back, thought you'd like this.' He enjoyed feeling Sherlock taking charge of what felt good for him.

'Sherlock, you must also have a thing for me punching people. I swear, every time I get into a fight you seem to want to jump me.'

'No, I think it has more to do with the end of a case.'

'An end usually brought up by a fight.'

'Mere coincidence.'


'Shut up, John.'

After some breathy rubbing, Sherlock paused to rest and said, 'I'm just glad that both of us got past our hang ups.'

'Speaking of which...' John surprised Sherlock and pushed against the mattress, flipping both of them, quickly turning on top of him and holding his wrists. He knew Sherlock loved this, a reminiscent of their wrestling days.

'I thought you said you were too knackered?' he smirked raising an eyebrow.

'You've managed to convince me.' He let go of the wrists and gestured, so both moved on top of the towel. John lowered himself for a kiss.

Sherlock hummed contentedly, his hands gliding easily up and down that back that he never got tired of. He did still love touching it, a pleasure (perhaps) surpassed only by also being allowed to squeeze John's perfect little tush.

John slid one hand down his chest, towards the side and hip. Sherlock bent his leg and pushed on the mattress not only so he could press against John, but also guide the callused hand to curve around his bum and the back of his thigh. John moved to kiss and gently suck on Sherlock's neck, while his hand meandered back up on the inside of the thigh, all the way up to-.

John halted and lifted himself up, frowning. 'When did you put this on?'

'After I showered, while you were showering, obviously.'

'You cocky bastard! You were very sure of yourself, weren't you?'

'I knew you were tired - mmg -,' he sighed. 'I just thought I'd make it easier for you and save some time.' He stretched his arm, grabbed a small bottle and handed it to John. 'But yes, I do know how to convince you.'

'Careful with what you wish for, Sherlock, I'm very convinced right now.'

'Show, don't tell.'

'Oh, I'll show you all right. You might regret it tomorrow whenever you try to sit down.'

'Less talking, more actio- ng!'

Sherlock closed his eyes and smiled as John chuckled in his ear.




In a darkened high rise luxury flat, a man in a suit stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass staring at the city lights. On the foreground was the iconic Bank of China, with its trademark zig zag pattern. The Two IFC Centre rose in the background, taller than everything around it. A most obvious phallic symbol, not only for its shape but also by its sheer size.*

' "The tallest building on this side of the harbour", they say. Why is it that mankind is always so fixated on comparing the size of their phalli?' He chuckled, mimicking a spoiled child, 'Mine is bigger! No, mine is bigger, look, look!' His voice went back to normal, 'Such confidence, such arrogance! All of their high tech security means nothing to me. They won't even know what hit them.'

The man turned around and smiled, hands still in his pockets. His hooded eyes glided down slowly, then made their way up again. 'Although in some instances size can be hugely - entertaining - I'll concede to that. People just never learn, it's not about how big it is, but how one uses it.'

Another man in a suit had been waiting by the door with his large hands clasped in front of him, legs apart. Only when addressed he moved and approached. He was tall, shaven headed, with a thick neck and a massive chest.

The first man spoke again, 'I'm so glad you brought my attention to Sherlock Holmes. I haven't been bored ever since he started meddling with my affairs.'

'I thought you might like meeting him,' the shaven headed man smirked. 'We have history. And an old score to settle.'

'Ah, my dear, such a long memory! Don't worry. Leave it to me and soon you'll enjoy seeing him dance.' He turned towards the view again.

'I'll see General Shan now. The usual way, so she won't see me.'


The end



* Hong Kong.

Somehow I can't picture Sherlock saying "arse".

Sorry for the open end. It just felt unreal that Sebastian would simply disappear. But do not fear for Sherlock and John, dear readers. In my AUs the Reichenbach Fall never happened, nor Sherlock "died", much less John ended up with Mary. Nothing against her. Or Janine.

Also, I know the timing and the technology seems off, but hey, this is an AU after all, maybe the bedroom scene is way in the future.

Thanks again guys. I hope to have another story ready to be published after the holidays. Hope to see you then. Happy holidays to all of you and happy shipping.