Shaking with shock, but trying desperately to hide it from his keen eyed companion, John Watson glanced at Sherlock, his long stride easily putting distance between them before Sherlock would glance back and casually slow his pace to match John's shorter one. John clenched his jaw to stop it from trembling and clenched his hands into fists. His pace slowed as he remembered what had just occured not that long ago...
Running along behind Sherlock, John trusted his feet to follow Sherlock, long ago learning not to question him. He followed Sherlock with complete and utter trust. The reassuring weight of his hand gun thumped softly against his skin. It was nice to know that if anything went wrong, John could protect Sherlock.
He grinned wryly. He didn't much care about his own safety, just as long as Sherlock was safe.
He stared at the consulting detective's back as he ran to catch the suspect they were following. His ass sure looked good in those pants. Mmm. John's face heated up but he couldn't stop himself from staring. Sherlock's black curly hair bounced around as he ran. Oh god, how John wished he could run his fingers through that lushous hair. He could imagine how Sherlock would be lying on John's lap, sleeping, while John read one of his books. John would run his fingers through Sherlock's hair and Sherlock's eyes would open, pinning John with those intense silver eyes. John would smile, putting down his book and slowly lean down, maintaing eye contact. He would press his lips to Sherlock's irrestisable bow shaped ones...
John shook his head to shake off the slightly erotic thoughts. He saw Sherlock disappear around the corner. "John!" Sherlock's slightly panicked yell made John sprint around the corner, hand reflexively going to his gun.
John's eyes widened as he rounded the corner and took in the scene before him. Sherlock was pinned to the ground, a large, buff guy straddling him, holding Sherlock's arms behind his back at a painful angle with one hand. The other hand was holding a knife to Sherlock's neck, pressing hard and creating a small cut which oozed blood. Sherlock's eyes were squeezed shut and his face drawn in pain. It looked like he hadn't meant to call for John. Fury welled up inside John. How DARE that punk hurt his Sherlock!
Scanning his eyes over Sherlock quickly, John was relieved to see no other visible wounds, except for a few bruises. The guy looked John up and down, then sneered. John saw red and whipped out his hand gun, took aim, released the safetly switch and fired at the guys head. John saw the punks shocked expression a second before death enfolded the man in its dark embrace. John shoved his gun back into the waistband of his jeans and hurried over to Shelock. He pushed the man off of him and rolled Sherlock over.
"Sherlock? Sherlock?! Are you alright? Can you hear me?!" John asked frantically, pushing at the consulting detective's shoulder.
Sherlock gave a dry cough and then groaned in pain. John let out a relieved breath.
"John?" Sherlock croaked, opening his eyes and fixing John with his piercing stare.
"I'm here Sherlock, it's alright." John soothed, hiding his worry and grabbing Sherlock's hand, squeezing softly.
Sherlock gave a weak smile and John realised the man must have been cutting off his circulation. Fury rose up like a tidal wave in John, but he pushed it down for Sherlock's sake.
After that, the police had showed up, and taken Sherlock over to the ambulance, where he had blantantly refused to let anyone but John treat him. It had warmed John's heart how he trusted John enough for him to clean his wounds.
But at the same time, he knew that if he hadn't been day dreaming about Sherlock, he wouldn't have gotten hurt at all. John could have prevented this.
"John?" Sherlock's deep barionetee voice snapped John out of his thoughts.
He looked up and saw that they had stopped under an overpass. Sherlock was looking at John with concern, as if it was John who had nearly been killed. "Y-yes, Sherlock?" John stammered, his body still trembling as he desperately tried to hide it.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, his voice low as he stepped forward.
John took a step back. They kept this up until John's back hit the wall. Sherlock stepped closer until they were only and arm's length apart. John reached out and grabbed Sherlock's soft scarf, yanking him closer. Sherlock's hand immediately shot and pressed against the wall behind John's head. Sherlock's other gloved hand rested on John's waist. John looked down and squeezed his eyes shut to avoid Sherlock's intense stare. "It's just.. just... don't," John drew in a raggard breath. "Don't ever do that to me again. I can't bear the sight of you being hurt."
"You know I would never intentionally hurt you, John, haven't you learnt this by now? I love you too much." Sherlock confessed. He grinned as John snapped his head up, his blue eyes staring straight into Sherlock's.
John's mouth opened in shock. Did Sherlock, THE Sherlock Holmes, just confess to loving him? Plain old John Watson? "But," continued Sherlock now that he had John's complete and utter attention. "To be fair, if you hadn't been dreaming of all the things you wanted to do to me, I wouldn't have lost concentration and would have heard the trap up ahead." He his was amused, and not at all repremanding as John had expected. He started to ask exactly HOW Sherlock had known what John had been thinking, but the consulting detective beat him to it. "Honestly, John. How could I have missed your lust filled stare scorching through me?" Sherlock scoffed, smiling down at John.
Sherlock slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to John's. John was frozen for a few seconds until he realised that Sherlock frickken Holmes was kissing him. Then he kicked out his brain and gave himself up to the amazing sensation that was Sherlock Holmes. John tugged Sherlock even closer and shoved his tongue into Sherlock's mouth. They both moaned as John wound his tongue around Sherlock's. John's hand that wasn't clutching Sherlock's scarf, slid up and (finally, FINALLY!) tangled into Sherlock's black curls. John sighed in utter bliss.
Sherlock, sensing what John did not. Drew back to let John breathe. Instead of fully pulling back, Sherlock bent lower and trailed kisses down John's delicous neck.
John turned to jelly as Sherlock kissed down his neck. His one weak spot. Sarah never found it, yet Sherlock had. John let out a breathless moan. "Sh-Sherlock!"
John could feel Sherlock smiling against his neck and tightened his hand that was in Sherlock's curls. John actually whimpered when Sherlock bit John's neck and started sucking, leaving a huge love bite for all to see.
"Sherlock. I must say I am not surprised."
The cool voice froze them both, and Sherlock straightened and turned to face the voice, sheilding John from view. "Mycroft." He greeted frostily. "I must say you come at the most inconvenient of times." Sherlock bit out.
Mycroft chuckled and John could feel the glare that Sherlock was giving Mycroft. "We were just leaving, actually." John piped up from behind SHerlock, poking his head out from behind Sherlock.
He slid his hand into Sherlock's and tugged him down the street. All was well, and John couldn't keep the satisfied smile off of his face.