As John left the room, Sherlock ripped off the suffocating mask of his disguise that he had spent many secret afternoons perfecting to be the exact replica of the couch in the Doctor's private study in his new home. The original intention was to play an elaborate prank on him, but it now owed to a new purpose. Sherlock hushed the dog that lazed on the floor before him, threatening it with a glare should it make any kind of noise. The animal whined and buried it's head in it's paws as Sherlock rose from the squashy armchair and crept quietly over to the desk where the Doctor has been sitting only moments ago, typing the story of the last adventure he and his closest friend had shared together. Sherlock read over the last words "the wisest man i had ever known..." he smiled to himself, flattered at this rare compliment offered by Watson. The last two words stood out on their own at the bottom of the page. "The End." With one press of a button the course of the story was changed entirely. Of course it was not the end.
"No, i just hoped it would have been what i thought. It doesn't matter anymore."
The sound of Watson's voice drawing nearer to the room had the detective shooting bolt upright from his crouched position over the typewriter and he stared at the doorway, his blood on fire in excitement at his prank of pranks to be played on his dear Doctor.
"No, you go, don't worry I'll pack now." Came the sound of Watson's voice, ever nearer still. The sound of the front door closing signalled the departure of his wife and the failure of any other presence in the house meant they were to be alone. This excited Holmes even further.
The sound of footsteps drawing nearer was the only warning then Watson was standing in the doorway, his crystal blue eyes that held the faintest touch of green were wide and on the Detective who still stood in his elaborate costume beside the chair of the Doctor's desk. Holmes found great amusement in seeing the Doctor looking at him, completely in shock, his mouth hanging open slightly. He looked older than before, dark bags under his eyes, his skin pale, a lot of weight lost most likely due to neglect in eating and more drinking and smoking. All in all he looked awful.
"Shut your mouth, my dear Watson, it makes you look like a fish." The Detective teased, trying his very best not to burst out laughing at the sight before him.
Watson just stared until in finally finding his voice, stuttered out "Wha...how...i...you..."
The detective chuckled and moved closer to stand before his friend. "Embrace me!" he said happily, holding his arms wide.
John looked at him, then his eyes were like fire. He advanced towards the Detective who only realized too late that he was not intending to embrace him. He was shoved roughly against the wall behind him, the front of his costume gripped in the fists of a very upset Watson.
"You completely selfish bastard! I thought you were dead ! You were supposed to be dead! And now you chose to come back! Where have you been! I'm going to kill you! How could you have left me! Not one indication for all these months! I'm going to kill you! You complete son of a bitch!"
Then his lips were angrily against his. He pulled him close in a passionate kiss that the detective melted into. Strong arms were around him once more and he breathed a sigh into the Doctor's mouth. A sliver of silver slipped into his mouth and he moaned against his lips, their tongues entwining in an angry battle for dominance.
Watson pulled away, tears were wet on his cheeks, "You are a complete bastard!" he croaked, his voice cracked in his emotion.
Then he kissed him again, harder, longer.
"I hate you!"
His lips were warm against his, feeling wonderful after so long without them. It had been 2 weeks at least since that night he had saw him last.
"I love you" he breathed softly, his lips more gentle now. One hand moved to his neck, angling his head to the side for better access. Sherlock was lost in the kiss, not caring for anything else for once. Watson's lips left his and began hungrily devouring Sherlock's neck. Every inch of skin reclaimed as his. His teeth bit down and the Doctor's name left the Detective's lips in a pleasured moan.
"John" with a possessive growl his lips returned to his, his tongue in his mouth, one and at the back of his neck, the other attempting to make it's way through his clothes. The his lips were gone again and his blue eyes were on him.
"Wait, what happened to you, Holmes? Where have you been and how on earth did you survive that fall!"
"Ah, well you see, i of course knew exactly what i was doing. I wasn't about to let a short fall into a frothing cauldron of ice cold water kill me, i'm Sherlock Holmes for goodness sake!" the smaller man boasted.
"Well where have you been? Why didn't you come to me sooner!" Sherlock did not miss hos Watson's arms held him slightly tighter.
"Ah, i confess i got a bit lost on my way back here, only been in town for a few hours , most of which i have spent sitting on your charming armchair, it's remarkably comfortable." He complimented, looking over to the chair fondly.
"So, that's why you are wearing this hideous thing?" asked Watson, gesturing to the costume.
"Precisely, that and it also makes me look wonderful. I think I'll keep it. And it's not hideous."
"I am not going out in public with you dressed like that"
"Fine, we shall keep it as a private thing."
"You never change, Holmes"
"Of course not."
Watson smiled at his detective, a sadness leaving his eyes as he began to believe he was really there. He kissed him softly, caressing his lips with his own in the sweetest way, telling him without words how much he had missed him. The smaller man tangled his hands around the Doctor's neck, melting once more into the kiss as it grew in passion.
The sound of the front door shutting behind someone had the two men tearing away from each other in a flash, righting themselves just as Watson's wife made an appearance at the door. "I'm just back to ask about the -" she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the Detective standing, rather flushed beside her husband.
"Oh my god." Her reaction was much the same as Watson's, mouth open, eyes popping, though she looked as healthy as ever.
"Ah, Mary, how nice of you to suddenly appear" Sherlock greeted cheerily, giving her a little wave.
"What is he doing here!" She demanded in her state of shock, her husband suddenly unable to reply.
"I heard you missed me - in your own way - so i thought i would put you out of your misery, so sweet of you, can't say I feel the same so i won't."
She remained silent, looking to the Doctor who's eyes were only for Sherlock. The latter smiled at the very much wanted attention.
"Brighton should be fun, splendid weather, half good company. When are we to leave?" Sherlock asked cheerily, rubbing his hands together.
Mary sighed, clearly unhappy, but was to receive no sympathy from her new husband, he grinned at his Detective and had not a thought of leaving him behind in his head.