Lately, I’ve been, I’ve been losing sleep,
Dreaming about the things that we could be,
But baby, I’ve been, I’ve been praying hard,
So no more counting dollars, we’ll be counting stars…

-          Counting Stars, by OneRepublic


(A/N- I suppose this verse of the song is appropriate for this chapter, you’ll see why. Except for the dollars bit- but I couldn’t really change it to ‘So no more counting pounds’, because it's not mine and that sounds a bit weird anyway.)


The morning of New Year’s Eve, I woke up to discover Sherlock just sliding back into bed after placing one of those ‘Do Not Disturb’ signs on the door outside. My still half-shut eyes met his, and he smiled at me and kissed my forehead lightly, the swelling on the bruise that sat on his lip having gone down quite a lot in the night.

“Good morning, love,” he whispered and slipped his arms around me again.

“Morning,” I mumbled, before glancing at the clock. Eleven-thirty six am? What on earth…?

“Gaaaah!” I exclaimed, sitting up, and he jumped a bit. “We missed breakfast!”

“Sorry, John, I just didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so tired,” he apologized, stroking my hair.

“No, no, it’s fine,” I rested my head on his warm shoulder. “So, what’re we doing today?” I asked.

He looked at the ceiling and exhaled. “I have absolutely no idea.”

“See where the wind takes us?”

“Don’t be silly, John, if there was enough wind to take us anywhere we’d be wise enough to stay inside,” he said.

“Oh, shut up,” I nudged him, laughing. After a bit of talking (and joking/bickering about the wind) we decided to just look around Cardiff, and maybe try out the Winter Wonderland Ferris Wheel that evening. After getting dressed and stepping outside, we bumped into Molly and Greg in the hallway. “So you’re finally up…” Greg asked, an eyebrow raised. “Have a bit of a late one, boys?” He grinned, and Molly put her hand over her mouth and giggled into it.

“If you mean chasing after a serial killer, then yes.”

“Um… Of course. So, was your dinner good?”

“Yes, thanks, it was fine. Good. Great. Amazing,” Sherlock seemed to start stammering, coming up with synonyms for words. He did this when he was nervous- but I knew he was going to tell me why later tonight or tomorrow why- at last, I was terribly anxious to find out.

“Are you alright, mate?” Greg looked a bit worried now, too.

“Mm, yeah, fine, thanks for asking,” he replied. “Got to run, see you later. Have a nice day!” He took my hand and began to pull me through the corridors. “Sherlock, wait!” Molly exclaimed. He swerved around.

“Greg needs a couple of your files for the case, would it be okay if you-”

“Um, just take this! They’re somewhere near the TV, use it to get anything else if you need it too. Bye!”

She thanked him and we dashed off.


“Yes, John?”

“… Should I be worried, too?” I asked as we got inside the elevator. He turned to me and smiled skittishly.

“I don’t think- I don’t know. I hope not,” he replied, squeezing my hand. We walked out of the sliding doors again and down the street on a similar route to the one we had taken yesterday, but this time we went outside lots of little stalls selling things like fruit and crafts and stuff. Sherlock noticed as I glanced longingly at one of them. “Would you like a pancake, John?” he smiled at me. “That would be great, thanks.”

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