Hello again everyone! Sorry that this was so long in coming. This one is all in John's pov and there is John/Sherlock fluff at the end! Yay! this chapter also has a line from the Sherlock movie with Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law. Also I have fixed the mistake I made in the perspectives of the last chapter.

Disclaimer: not mine...

Love and War

John's POV

Remember when I said that last week had been the oddest week of my life? I was wrong; this week had been the oddest week of my life. Apparently when two genii decide have a friend they don't like sharing. Throw in a big, whopping dollop of sibling rivalry and you've got yourself one hell of a party. It's true, if I'd seen them doing this to some other poor sod, I would've kicked up my feet and grabbed a pint. But it wasn't some other poor sod, it was me and I was getting annoyed.

After my glorious victory over the elder Holmes, and later hugging of the younger Holmes following the presentation of said victory, I'd assumed that it was all fine. I really need to stop doing that, it only invites more bit not good things into my already skewed life. Take four nights ago for example.

It had been just two days after I'd gotten a rather unexpected but mist definitely welcome hug from Sherlock. Lestrade had come by with another case (smuggling ring), not really very hard at all according to Sherlock. We'd been just across the street from the smugglers' warehouse waiting for Lestrade when he'd asked me.

"John, when Lestrade finally gets here and we get this dull case over with, would you be inclined to go and watch a movie with me." I was almost sure that I felt my neck pop from the speed at which I whipped my head around. Sherlock was fidgeting about on the chair he'd pulled in front of the window to observe the warehouse undetected, his eyes fixated on his shoes.

"A movie?" I couldn't help asking. I was almost sure I'd dreamed it. Sherlock had said it before, that he wasn't interested, hadn't he?

"Is that not right?" His brow was furrowed, he looked genuinely worried. "I have no idea how to go about these things John, you'll have to be indulgent of my mistakes on this issue." This issue? Oh Lord, was he asking me on a date? It certainly seemed so.

"No, no, it's fine. Just not something I was expecting you to ask me." That seemed to ease his thoughts slightly because the lines on his forehead disappeared and small grin made its way onto his lips.

"So you would like to go then, with me?" He had this look in eyes, like I would disappear any second. Well I'd have to set that to rights, I was almost certain that nothing short of a zombie apocalypse could make me disappear. On second thought no, I'd still be around, if only to keep Sherlock from playing scientist on the poor devils.

"Yes Sherlock, I'd like to go." I might as well have informed him that I'd stolen his brother's umbrella (he really did seem to hate the thing) for the smile that stretched his face. I couldn't help but grin in return.

After Lestrade arrived Sherlock had all but charged the poor inspector, telling him this and that because of the color of the victim's shoes and the dirt under his nails. He then pointed towards the building we'd been watching explaining that was the smugglers main warehouse and complaining about it being dull and boring. He then proceeded to grab my hand (sending jolts all the way up my arm to rest in a warm ball in my chest, Sherlock had nice hands.) and drag me.

The movie was actually entertaining, full of action and mystery, quite enjoyable really. When the movie was over and we were on our way out Sherlock suddenly moved from my right side to my left. This was odd because Sherlock, being right-handed, naturally gravitated to my right side. This was convenient for both of us since it left both of our dominant hands free. (Me being a lefty) It was enough to make me search around for what had caused his displacement. It was then that he'd spotted the shiny black car that was leisurely trailing behind us.

Mycroft had been interesting to hang around lately and was becoming something of a friend, so I stopped walking and waved the car over. (Because honestly who else could own an anonymous, shiny, black car that tailed Sherlock?) He didn't even have to look to see the scowl on his partner's face.

When the car pulled up to sit beside them the door opened but the eldest Holmes didn't step out. He simply leaned out and said

"Good film then John." This was clearly not a question, John knew the difference quite well by now. He answered anyway.

"Bit good actually." The scowl on Sherlock lessened. "How was that board meeting of yours?" Lips turned upwards, a smirk taking up residence on his face. The scowl had moved to the other Holmes lips.

"Uncomfortable." Mycroft quipped tapping that umbrella of his on the floor if his car. "Moving on, might I be able to interest you in dining with me?" All I'd really had to eat was toast this morning and handful of biscuits for lunch, a real meal was sounding great to me. And if Mycroft felt like talking like old chums, well I could deal with that.

"Budge over then." I said waving at him to move to the other side. "Coming Sherlock?" I asked, pausing at the car door.

"I think not." He sniffed, turning his head to look up the street. "I'll catch a taxi." Guess I couldn't really expect for him to act civil towards his 'arch-nemesis'.

"At least eat something when you get back home?" I sighed. Sherlock hadn't eaten anything since the breakfast I had made him. Which he really only half ate.

"Fine." He said briskly. It was probably the best he would get out his insane flatmate, so he just nodded and got in Mycroft's car.

Dinner had been nice, the conversation was good, and the company not so off-putting anymore. (Shooting a person in the arse tends to have that effect) After I'd gotten back to the flat, I'd been no less than smothered by the consulting detective. The man had wrapped his arms around me and pressed my face into his chest.

He'd proceeded to manhandle me across the flat to the sofa where he plopped me down at one end and drape himself over both me and the sofa. We'd watched crap tellie all night and fallen asleep on the sofa.

The days following that had been much the same. Either Sherlock or Mycroft would take me to some theater, cinema, restraint, or what have you then the other brother would be waiting outside or up the street to take me somewhere else. I felt very much like a Ping-Pong ball being served back and forth across the table. It was starting to get fed up with the whole thing. I would have been nice if it were just Sherlock, very nice in fact, it was the fact that the brother seemed to be fighting over me like I was their shiny new toy that bugged me.

Apparently Sherlock was starting to get frustrated too. The game they were playing was fierce today. Sherlock and I went to breakfast, Mycroft took me out to a museum, Sherlock shanghaied me when I went to get a drink, Mycroft intercepted us before we got out the door, they traded off when finishing showing me around, Sherlock snuck us out and took me to lunch, which Mycroft joined halfway through. We had all gotten back to the flat in a cloud of hostility and snarky comments when Sherlock had, obviously, had enough.

"Mycroft, I want you to stop this annoying habit of stealing John when you find yourself without a civil war to plan or an election to organize." He snipped hatefully, glaring icily at his brother.

"Please Sherlock, why can't you simply believe that I want nothing more than to spend time with the good doctor?" Mycroft seemed almost amused, which only served to make Sherlock more irate.

"Shall I answer chronologically or alphabetically?" Sherlock seethed stepping closer to Mycroft.

"Well then, I suppose we should settle this." Mycroft's eyes had a mischievous glint to them that I'd come to associate with Sherlock when he'd gone halfcocked on one of his experiments. Not good then.

"Yes we should." Sherlock spun towards me, reaching and pulling me so that I was between the two brothers. He then stepped back so that he and Mycroft were the same distance from me on opposite sides. "Come on then John, pick the one of us you like best."

If my expression looked anything like I felt, I was surprised that my eyes hadn't popped out of my sockets. They weren't honestly thinking-no of course they were, they Sherlock and Mycroft bloody buggering Holmes. I couldn't deal with this right now.

"I need a drink." Looking towards the kitchen, I remembered that I was an Englishman. I made a beeline for the kettle.

"John, I can't keep up these activities for much longer, they are making me incredibly exasperated." Sherlock breathed out, clearly ruffled.

"Sherlock, excuse me if I am somewhat confused, and I know I'm not near as smart as you so feel free to correct this, but I was under the impression that until recently you wanted me to move out and away from you." I spoke as I made my tea.

"That was before I realized that I-"Sherlock abruptly cut himself off. He couldn't have been about to say…well that would put a whole new spin on this situation. I abandoned my newly made cuppa on the counter and quickly made my way over to my crazy, mad, brilliant, best friend, and soon maybe more.

"I like you too." I grabbed that big, idiotic, genius head of his and brought his lips against mine. A light brushing at first that rapidly evolved into something more passionate.

"My work here is done." I heard distantly as Mycroft made his leave. I'd have to remember to thank the man at some point.

Hope you all enjoyed it! I couldn't resist using the line from the Sherlock movie. For future reference, do you want John or Sherlock to be the seme?

I like it either way so I might swap back and forth with them. Any MDI's are more than welcome and reviews make both me and wifey very happy.

Thanks for reading ^/^