🪄joan🪄

Something crashes, then Sherlock walks out from who-knows-where with two pairs of goggles on his head. One on his eyes, one on his forehead. I would have laughed if I wasn't mid-panic. He gives a nod to me as he casually walks past. I notice the book he's reading is upside down, but I don't really notice until later.

“Sherlock, I don't know how to-” I clear my throat, “I guess what I'm trying to say…damn it,” I look away, clearing my throat again.

“John,” I see Sherlock squint out of the corner of my eye, removing his goggles, “you're acting strange…stranger than usual, that is…”

“Yes I'm acting-oh fuck it.” I cross the room in three strides and grab his collar.

“John, what are you-” I don't let him finish and his book topples to the floor as I smash my lips onto his.

He freezes.

Then I let go and back away. I look anywhere, anywhere but him.

“What the hell did I just- oh God I'm so sorry-I'm going to-” I turn and grab the knob.

TWANG

A knife impales itself not even 6 centimeters from my face.

“No.”

I spin back around, “No?! You almost took my bloody eye-...did you say no?”

“Yes,” Sherlock stops and shakes his head, “No, I mean I said no, but yes I did say no.”

I squint quizzically, “But you did say-”

“I said no. Then I threw the…” Sherlock swallows hard and waves a hand at the knife.

“Yes, I can bloody well see that.”

Sherlock strides over, walking over the paper covered table to do so. He comes quite close, and stops.

“What are you-”

He shushes me and squints his eyes, “You're actually in love with-”

This time I cut him off, “Yes.”

“But-”

“Yes”

“Even after I've-”

“Yup”

“And…”

I nod. “And it only took me…years to figure it out.”

“But you actually…”

“Yes, Sherlock! I am in bloody love with-”

He takes in a sharp breath. We both freeze.

“And you are too…”

“How do you know I'm not faking it?” He snaps quietly.

I look down and suddenly bring a hand up to scrub at my eyes.

A hand closes around my wrist.

“You're going to damage your eyes,” He says matter-of-factly.

I look into his eyes.

“That's how I know.”

“...I faked it with Janine, John, how do you know I'm not just using you?” Sherlock walks over to sit and stare through his microscope at a slide that isn't there.

“Would you like a slide for your microscope, Sherlock?” I say leaning over his shoulder with one of the glass rectangles in hand.

He puts his hand out without saying a word.

I decide that I've already begun to dig this hole and I might as well keep digging and I lean closer, close enough for my breath to hit his neck- “Can I look?”

Sherlock shoots up, stumbling and tripping out of his seat. I smile at him and follow him into the sitting room, “Would you like any more evidence of how I know, Sherlock?”

He glances around, looking everywhere but at me, “That was, I- um hm-” he grunts and finally connects with my eyes, “You kissed me.”

I laugh and it's my turn to look away, “I did…” the smile slowly slides off my face, “that wasn’t- uh…wasn't a mistake, was it?”

Sherlock walks back over to me. Without speaking, he gently places a hand on the side of my jaw, around my neck. Then he lowers his face to mine and places a careful, soft kiss on my lips.

He slides his other hand around the other side of my head. He looks deep into my eyes, “It wasn't a mistake at all, John.”

Mirroring him, I reach up and put my hands on his face, “You and your cheekbones,” I giggle, “I kissed Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock goes very straight faced and I give him a questioning look.

A smile breaks onto his face, “You are kissing Sherlock Holmes-”

“You are incorrect, John.”

“What?”

“Ahhh-”

“-big difference.”