Hello everyone! So, the eagerly anticipated moment has finally arrived! Are you guys ready for the grand finale? Well, ready or not, here we go:

He may have noticed every crack and every mold stain on that ceiling. He could even tell how many times it had been repainted.

Since Joan had gone away, that was perhaps the only thing he did: lie on the couch and stare the ceiling. That was, in fact, besides eating, sleeping and his biological needs, the only thing he did.

Two days had gone by since Watson had left, since he had worked on his last case, since he had had a life!

He knew he was being dramatic, but he simply didn't care. Sherlock had allowed himself to be upset for a couple of days.

A few more minutes and his stomach reminded him that it was time to get up but Holmes was so depressed that he decided to ignore the hunger.

So, that was what his life was going to be from now on? Lying on a couch, waiting for Gregson to call then solving a case (that was, if he could solve anything at that point), coming back home and lying on the couch again? Was that it?

That sounded terrible! It was terrible! But then Sherlock realized that that wasn't too different, apart from the drugs maybe, from his old life. Before Joan, that was exactly how he used to spend his days.

So, why just now the couch felt incredibly uncomfortable? Why, all of a sudden, talking to Angus had become something practically unbearable? And what about the silence and lack of opinions that had prevented him from hearing his own thoughts?

"What did you turn me into, Watson?" Holmes asked mentally to himself, although an answer to that question wouldn't make much of a difference.

The unquestionable truth was that he had changed and even if he did not know into what, he knew one thing: he would never go back to the way he was before. He couldn't go back. He didn't want to.

Sherlock stood up determined and gave a good look at himself in the mirror. He didn't want to look, although that was the case, like he had been whining like on old lady for the past two days. "That will do." He concluded after fixing his hair a bit.

Sherlock took a deep breath. He had a coat to return.

Joan was so distracted reading that the knocks on the door startled her.

The doctor put the book aside and went to the door. She considered checking the peephole but the insistence on the knocks was enough for her to know exactly who that was.

"I was wrong." Sherlock said only a few seconds after Joan opened the door.

"If you're talking about Diego Rodriguez, then I…"

"No! I was right about him!" Sherlock stated "and you'll never believe how I figur…" the detective didn't continue and it was Joan's look that prevented him from doing so.

"Well, I think you're not really interested in knowing."

"What do you want, Sherlock?" she wasn't playing.

"If I say you, is it going to be that bad of a cliché?"

Joan kept her straight face on.

"Ok, I'm gonna try a different approach, then." Sherlock was nervous "but I'm afraid I'll have to come inside for that one. May I?" the detective asked to a Joan who was now blocking the entrance.

She reluctantly moved aside and finally let him in.

"Thank you." he said while examining the place "nice apartment…well lighted and…"

"If you're here to talk about my apartment, then…" Joan began.

"I'm not." Sherlock interrupted her, but hesitated a little before carrying on "I know that you're going to make this as hard as possible for me and if I were you, I'd do the same thing, but…"

Watson had her arms crossed in front of her chest and was staring at him.

"I was wrong. And I'm sorry." Holmes finally said "but not for asking you to sleep with me or for not respecting your decision or trying, for the past two weeks, to convince you that I was right…" he cleared his throat "I am actually sorry for not kissing you that night."

The detective approached her and placed one of his hands on her cheek. Joan closed her eyes to the touch and could feel him getting closer.

"I'm not gonna let you do this." she backed away "this is the easy way and you don't deserve it. You wanna kiss me, fine, but first you'll have to tell me why." she said firmly "and don't you dare to use scientific data or percentages…"

Sherlock smiled, but only internally. She really wouldn't make things easy for him, would she? The detective took a deep breath. He could do that.

"Do you wanna know why I want to kiss you?" he confirmed her question "well, I think most men with age above 16 would like to kiss you…"

"Sherlock!" the doctor alerted. She was growing tired of his excuses.

"I like you, Watson!" he finally had the guts "I like your capacity of keeping up, most of the times, at least, with my reasoning…" she rolled her eyes but he carried on "I like your intuition, your genuine disposition in helping, your kindness, the way your eyes glow whenever we find something on a case, I like the way you pretend to be madder at me than you really are when I make fun of your meetings, your good will in learning, your ability in listening…I like your insecurity, although I don't see why you should have it…" Sherlock approached her "I like your hair when you wake up, your scent, the freckles on your face although you constantly insist to hide them with make-up, the color of your eyes…" he approached her even more "I like your mouth and that's why I want to kiss you."

They were only a few millimeters away from each other now, something that, in the past days, wasn't that rare.

"Well, I guess we are among those 87% after all." Joan concluded and smiled.

"I thought we were not supposed to use percentages…"

Sherlock leaned and finally kissed her.

The kiss was simple, but perfect for their first one.

"The real reason that brought me here though…"he broke the kiss." was because I wanted to return you this." Sherlock held up the coat he had in his hands the entire time. Joan took it but quickly tossed it away.

"So, I guess my plan worked." she smiled.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist and stared at her with questioning eyes. Did she really plan on forgetting her coat only to make him go after her? Well, that would remain a mystery for the ages because after saying that, Joan kissed him again, this time not with the same serenity. And before the kisses could become so intense to a point where they wouldn't be ceased, Sherlock spoke for the last time:

"I am glad that you're a woman, Watson."

And swore to himself that until the end of that day he would only use his lips to kiss her.


Well, guys that's it! Now that the story has finally come to an end, we'd like to thank you all for taking your time to read this. We really, really love to write, I mean, we could do it for a living, but unfortunately life isn't fair, so for now we're happy enough just writing fanfictions. And knowing that you guys took the time to actually read this story and not only that, but to favorite it or alert it just makes us even more thankful. You'll probably never know how much it meant to us all of your opinions and thoughts and anticipation…we are so very thankful to every single one of you (people that we'll probably never meet but who will always have our gratitude) for making this story see the light of day. We will always appreciate what you guys did for this story and, who knows, maybe we'll do a sequel… It was a pleasure writing for such amazing readers as yourselves and we hope to see you soon! Tchau!