Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlock Holmes franchise. It all belongs to Guy and Arthur. Hail them.

"Watson?" Holmes opened his eyes momentarily, staring at the window in his bedroom through the darkness. His friend shifted beside him, turning to face him under the bed sheets.

"Yes, Holmes?" The inspector felt his companion's soothing breath on the back of his neck.

"Do you love me?"

The two of them sat in silence for a long time. Watson simply examined the gentle slope of Holmes' back, contemplating. They both knew that answer though. Blatantly obvious, it was. Watson's hand gripped Holmes' shoulder, whether in comfort or reassurance, he didn't know. Holmes sighed, squinting to hold back an onslaught of tears.

"I don't know, Holmes. I don't bloody know."

"Holmes?" Watson put his paper down, unsure of how to phrase his question at such an awkward, morning-after type of moment.

"Yes, Watson?" Holmes barely looked up from his work. Instead of eating breakfast, he was indulging in one of his 'experiments'. Watson didn't ask. He rarely did.

"Do you love me?"

Holmes froze for a moment and Watson admired the way his precise hands hovered over whatever strange thing he was experimenting with today. Holmes was obviously contemplating the question but they both knew the answer in the end. Holmes finally looked up and Watson was suddenly afraid of his answer.

"I don't know, Watson. I don't bloody know."