Fic: Hearts Under Fire (3/5)
Summary: Sherlock and John come under fire as Moriarty makes good on his threat to burn the heart out of Sherlock.
****
Sherlock returned three days later and, apparently having forgotten their less than cordial parting, threw himself at John where he sat on the sofa, winding long arms around him and pressing his face against John's neck. After a moment of surprise, John pulled him as close as he could, arms wrapped tightly around him.
"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispered against John's neck.
"No, I'm sorry. This case has been making me crazy, I don't even know what I'm thinking half the time."
John pulled back and cupped Sherlock's face in his hands, eyes flicking over him with concern.
"I'm fine," Sherlock assured him, pressing his face into John's caress.
"And Moriarty?" John asked warily.
"Long gone," Sherlock said somewhat sheepishly, looking away briefly before meeting John's gaze again. "I should have listened to you."
"I'm just glad you're okay," John said, leaning over to press his head against Sherlock's. "I should have gone with you."
"Let me make it up to you," Sherlock murmured, tilting his head to catch John's lips between his.
John tugged him closer and kissed him hungrily, desperate for the intimacy that had also fallen by the wayside in the midst of Sherlock's mindless pursuit. Sherlock moaned against him and shifted until he was straddling John's lap, pressing him down into the sofa. John impatiently went for the buttons on Sherlock's shirt, undoing them as quickly as he could while Sherlock distracted him with biting, almost frantic, kisses.
John finally managed to get Sherlock's shirt undone and swept it open, baring pale, smooth skin to his touch.
"I thought I was going to lose you," John whispered, trailing a hand down Sherlock's side.
"You should know better than that by now," Sherlock said huskily, pressing his forehead to John's.
"I didn't know how to get through to you," John said softly, pressing his hands to Sherlock's shoulder blades, his eyes falling closed. He could feel some of the tightness that had been restricting his chest for weeks starting to dissipate.
"John," Sherlock said brokenly, covering John's mouth with his own a beat later. John pulled him close, one hand raising to twine in his hair. Sherlock's fingers were digging into his arms hard enough to hurt, but he didn't care because this was the Sherlock he knew, back in his arms, pliant and warm and wholly focused on John.
John pulled away, panting against Sherlock's collarbone.
"We should go to bed," he murmured around gentle nips to Sherlock's skin. "Before Mrs. Hudson walks in and has a heart attack."
Sherlock merely groaned in response and dragged him into another kiss. John smiled against his lips and gently pulled away, pressing his hands to Sherlock's shoulders. "Bed."
Sherlock hurried to his feet, pulling John up with him with an impatient tug. John laughed and allowed himself to be herded towards the bedroom. As soon as they were there, he turned the tables, guiding Sherlock down onto the bed and hovering over him.
He ran his thumb over Sherlock's lip and then his jaw, his nail catching on the very slightest hint of stubble.
"I missed you," John said, focusing his gaze on his thumb where it now glided over Sherlock's throat.
"I was only gone for three days."
"You've been gone longer than that," John breathed, his mouth following the trail of his thumb.
He felt Sherlock tremble, and then long limbs were winding around him, pulling him close.
"I'm sorry, John. I'm sorry."
John let out a shaky breath and forced the memory of the last few weeks away. He pressed himself along the length of Sherlock's body and kissed him tenderly, determined to erase the worry and stress from both their minds.
Some time later, when they were laying tangled together, Sherlock's head pillowed on John's chest, John couldn't help bringing up the subject of the sudden change in Sherlock's behaviour.
"Sherlock," he murmured, tracing idle patterns on his partner's back.
"Hmm?"
"Did something happen in Portugal?"
Sherlock stiffened for a moment, but then spoke up with a forced casualness.
"Why do you ask?"
"It's just... You seem different. Three days ago I hardly recognised you, and now..."
Sherlock didn't say anything for a long time and John was resigned to not receiving an answer, but then Sherlock finally spoke.
"I was simply forced to reassess my priorities," Sherlock said in a quiet voice, before pushing himself up on his elbow to look at you. "You are the most important thing to me, John. Always."
John smiled softly, tucking an errant curl behind Sherlock's ear and pulling him closer for a gentle kiss. He felt like there was something more that Sherlock wasn't telling him, but he wasn't inclined to push - not now that he had his Sherlock back.
****
John was making breakfast when Sherlock emerged from the bedroom the next morning, endearingly rumpled and half-asleep. Once he got close enough, he pressed himself to John's back, placing a kiss on the side of his neck.
"Morning," John said with a smile, more relaxed than he had been for what felt like a lifetime.
"Why are you up so early?" Sherlock complained.
"It's ten o'clock."
Sherlock harrumphed and John laughed, steering him out of the way so he could make tea. "Did you sleep at all during the last three days?"
Sherlock went quiet and when John glanced up, his partner was frowning.
"Hardly," he said, fixing his eyes on John. "I... I couldn't sleep without you there."
It was a surprisingly sentimental comment, coming from Sherlock, and John smiled fondly, reaching out to take his hand and pull him closer.
"I missed you too, you silly sod," he whispered, guiding Sherlock down into a soft kiss.
Sherlock instantly pressed in close, trapping John between his body and the counter.
"Coo-e, only me!"
They parted just as Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway, looking a little harried.
"Oh, thank God you're back safe, Sherlock. I couldn't believe it when John told me you'd gone."
Sherlock gave a slight grimace but it went unnoticed as Mrs. Hudson continued.
"And then I see all this nonsense about 'trouble in paradise' in the newspaper, and I must admit I was a little surprised. I thought you were being a bit discreet after that incident with the deacon."
"Mrs. Hudson, what are you going on about?" Sherlock asked.
The woman gave them both a frown and then bustled over to the living room. "I left my copy of the paper up here just yesterday."
She retrieved a paper from the crowded coffee table and flicked through until she'd found the right page. She handed it over to Sherlock with a slight frown.
"I'll leave you boys in peace."
Sherlock perched on the arm of the nearest chair and John leaned over his shoulder to read the article Mrs. Hudson had pointed out.
----
Reichenbach hero in secret relationship shock
by Kitty Riley
Sherlock Holmes has become a household name since solving some of the most perplexing crimes in recent history, but the detective, 29, has always remained silent on the topic of his private life. However, The Sun can now reveal that the boffin has been in a secret relationship with crime-fighting partner - and former priest - John Watson, 42, for several months.
"They've known each other for years," a source close to the two told The Sun. "But, you know, with John being in the Church and everything, it wouldn't have been appropriate."
Watson left the Church only last year, giving no reason for his departure on his blog. He was recently revealed to be the only survivor of Deacon Thomas Matthews' murderous spree, a rampage that saw two priests and a bishop killed for their pro-gay marriage stances. It is believed that Watson was targeted because of his relationship with Holmes.
"They've had their fair share of ups and downs," the source informed us. "But they're very happy together."
It would seem there may be trouble in paradise though, as Holmes was recently seen leaving the country without Watson in tow.
----
Before John could finish reading to the end, Sherlock threw the paper down in anger.
"Mindless idiots!"
"Hey," John said softly, reaching out to wrap an arm around Sherlock's waist. "It's no big deal. So someone's finally made the step and come right out and said that we're a couple. We've got nothing to be ashamed of."
Sherlock sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Anyone could use this to their advantage, John."
"That's always been a possibility, even before now."
"I know," Sherlock admitted. "I just don't like to think of my enemies suddenly assuming they've got a way to get back at me, through you."
"You worry too much," John joked, although he knew Sherlock had some grounds for concern - especially after their experience with Moriarty. "It's just a stupid article. The worst that could happen is someone will read it and think 'why on earth is a young, beautiful person like that going out with such an old man?'."
Sherlock laughed lowly and turned to press his mouth to John's temple.
"We've discussed this. You're not old."
"Not young either," John said with a smile.
They fell silent for a few moments, before John spoke up in amusement.
"It's nice to see that me declining an interview didn't stop Ms. Riley from getting her story, eventually."
"You've met her?" Sherlock asked, pulling back to look at John.
"Yes, you remember I told you about the journalist who was pestering Lawrence."
"I knew the name was familiar," Sherlock mused aloud, suddenly seeming lost in thought. "Now we just need to find out who her supposed source is."
John frowned, wondering himself who might have spoken to Kitty Riley. He couldn't imagine any of their friends doing so, but then didn't know who else it could be. When he glanced up, Sherlock was staring at the wall, lost in thought. John smiled and steered him gently to the sofa, before moving away to finish breakfast. He had no doubt that Sherlock would solve the mystery of Kitty Riley's source for the both of them.
****
Part Four