I don't own Sherlock Holmes or any other works (Twin Peaks, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) I reference in this fanfic.

This is based on me wondering how an asexual Sherlock would end up sleeping with John.

Rated M for later chapters.

Sherlock was agitated. He was alone because John was sleeping over at his girlfriend's place, again. The apartment was completely silent, the only ambient sound coming from the sirens of emergency vehicles across the city. The absence of John's snores through the wall unnerved Sherlock. He found the steady rhythm comforting. Ever since he had moved in with John he hated to be alone for long periods of time, which was strange as he usually couldn't stand company. He still found the rest of humanity as dull as ever, but he found he liked having a companion around. Sherlock was beginning to wonder if he would still be able to function if John wasn't around, he was miserable without him.

And now John had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who was taking up a lot of his time. What if they got married and had children? What if they moved somewhere far away? What if she got sick and needed to be taken care of? John would not have time for Sherlock anymore. Something had to be done.

The woman, Sherlock had not bothered to learn her name as he deemed it unimportant, obviously offered John something he did not. That was the only explanation for why he kept going back there. John liked Sherlock, he was sure of it, but apparently he needed the company of other people as well. And what she offered was important enough to John to keep him there all night. What could they be doing? She was nice enough, with a good heart, but missing some furniture upstairs in Sherlock's opinion. That was not unusual, as he thought that most people be barely above apes in their cognitive abilities. Sherlock had ruled out conversation. If John needed intelligent conversation he could just stay home. It was ludicrous to think that he could talk for hours with someone that dull.

Then the painfully obvious hit him. They were having sex. Sherlock often forgot that normal people tried to do this as much as possible. As much as he admired John, it depressed him to think the man was still a slave to his primal urges. When would people evolve?

John got home the next morning to find Sherlock sitting in an arm chair facing the door with a cup of tea in his hand waiting for him. Sherlock stared intently at John. John tried to subtly hide the hickies on his neck inside his collar. Maybe Sherlock wouldn't notice and pass comment.

"'Morning," said John nonchalantly as he went into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea.

"John, what happens to you if you abstain from sex?" Sherlock asked, his clear voice ringing across the room.

John stared at him bewildered. Sherlock had his odd moments, but this was awkward even for him. "Why? Thinking of giving it up yourself?" He spoke quietly, hoping to God the landlady did not hear them. He shut the door just to be safe.

"I haven't had sex in over three years, it distracts from my work, or rather trying to please my partners does."

John was surprised for a moment, but then figured if Sherlock did not eat on a case because food slowed him down; giving up sex seemed to be the next logical step. John smiled at the thought of Sherlock on a date, how awkward it would be and how abruptly he would end it, and then remembered how Sgt. Donovan seemed to have a personal grudge against him.

"Was Sgt, Donovan one of those partners?" asked John. "It explains why she dislikes you so much if you chucked her out to focus on your work."

Sherlock looked up in surprise. He had not expected John to make the connection, but then again John was above average, if he was a dull as the rest of humanity Sherlock would not be worried about spending time with him. "Yes, she took is rather badly when I withdrew my interest, but she turned out to be quite boring in the end. But that is not the point. What would happen to you if you were to abstain from sex?"

John sipped his tea, still trying to avoid the question. He did not feel like discussing his sex life with Sherlock. It made him feel a mixture of wrongness or guilt, it was far too awkward. But he could try and defect the question. "What makes you think I have gone long periods of time without it?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes as if John had asked a question with the most obvious answer in the world. "You were in the armed forces and unless you like men, which I assume you don't as you are currently seeing that woman, you went for periods of time when there were not women around. So either you abstained from sex or had sex with men. I deduce that you abstained. Which is it and what were the results?"

John went bright red. There was obviously no getting around this. For some reason Sherlock was determined to know how abstinence affected normal people. "I get angry, and frustrated, and soon any woman or anyone with slightly feminine features that I see turns me on and I am generally frustrated. It's not fun."

"Even with regular masturbation?" Sherlock asked in such a matter of fact way that John choked on his tea.

"That helps a little," he mumbled and turned away scarlet. He liked to think that what went on between him and his right hand was a private matter.

Sherlock leaned back in his chair, his hands together, thinking and looking at the ceiling. "So you feel that regular sex is important for you to live a happy and fulfilled life?"

"Yes," John muttered. What was with Sherlock this morning? Why the interest in his sex life. Or sex in general, he never seemed to think about it before. In future he would have to make sure he only got hickies in places that were covered when he was fully clothed. When he could finally look at Sherlock again he saw the other man still thoughtfully looking at the ceiling. John fled to his bedroom before Sherlock remembered any other awkward questions he wanted to ask.

John was out on a date and Sherlock sat in the flat alone. He had not had a case in a week, and would be going a bit crazy right now if he did not have the problem of John to occupy him. He did not like how John disappeared to go and spend time with that woman. John and never had her stay the night in the flat, probably too embarrassed by some of Sherlock's eccentricities and was afraid they would drive his potential mate away. Apparently going on a date with them and then nearly getting them murdered meant he was bad company. Sherlock did not see what the big deal was; it would probably be the most memorable first date of their lives. They were horribly ungrateful.

It angered him that John didn't seem to need him as much as he needed John. John did require him to some extent. Without Sherlock, John would be a pathetic limping veteran with no purpose probably living out the rest of his life watching day time TV and sitting on benches feeding ducks. The thought that if John left Sherlock and went back to a completely normal life then John would probably get him limp back pleased Sherlock; he could not suppress a smile. They needed each other and would always be near each other was comforting. But Sherlock did not like to share. As much as he hated to admit it he loved attention, and needed attention from John. John wasn't ignoring him, but he was giving his attention to someone else as well.

Sherlock could not actively break them up, John would never forgive him and it would strain their relationship. And he did not feel like he could do something like that to deliberately hurt John. But if it fell apart on its own, Sherlock could try and make sure John never dated another girl like that again. He had a couple of plans, and was not sure they would work. But there had been encouraging signs that he might be able to put a few of them into play.

Rain fell heavily on the streets of London and Sherlock was alone in the flat with his violin. He was trying to resonate the porcelain of the tea cup in front of him, but with little success. He did this when John was out because John generally yelled about the noise and threw things at him. To most people, the noise he was making was unpleasant rather than purposeful. He wondered how they coped with their limited intellect.

There were some thuds outside and Sherlock was startled when John strode through the door, soaked and miserable. The state of his clothes and the amount of muck on his shoes suggested he had been walking for a long time. Without saying a word he went straight to his room and locked the door. He was upset about something. Sherlock was baffled as to the cause. He had seemed so happy earlier that day. Sherlock played his violin for about fifteen minutes more, but did not get a response from John. This was unusual. He was either dead or really upset. Sherlock put down the instrument and went to his room. He turned off the light and lay awake listening to any sound that might be coming from John's room. He stayed awake for what seemed like hours and when he finally dozed off he had not hear the light snores that meant John had gone to sleep.