The Inevitable: Johnlock Fanfiction

Moriarty

POV: Watson 

I wake up this morning with a smile on my face, rolling over on my face, sighing contently. Since Sherlock didn't play the violin last night, I had a long and peaceful sleep.

Yawning, I open my eyes slowly and look out the window. It's snowing outside, and I grin again. It's the perfect weather for Christmas day. After lying on the bed, and enjoying the comfort of the blanket for a few more minutes, I eventually get up. There's another aspirin on my nightstand, I pop it in my mouth with a swish of water.

I go to the bathroom and start brushing my teeth, using the time to think about the party last night. I actually missed my sister, and I was glad to see her again yesterday. I'm surprised that she came since she didn't even come to my wedding. She was very friendly to everyone, and I think everyone liked her. Strangely enough, Harry was the perfect guest. Except for in the beginning, when she made that comment. I chuckle slightly, remembering the looks everyone's faces when she said that. Sherlock's surprise was the funniest of them all.

I suddenly freeze, the toothbrush still in my mouth. Groaning, I remember what else happened last night. Shutting my eyes, I take a deep breath. No, no. This is bad, this is really bad. I cannot believe I actually did that. I pray hard that it was just a dream, bringing up the scene in my mind. I can almost feel the softness of his lips. No luck, that was definitely not a dream.

Opening my eyes, I finish brushing my teeth with dread. I drag each second as slowly as I can, terrified of going downstairs and facing Sherlock. I'm sure he remembers what happened; he doesn't forget anything. Mentally hitting myself on the head, how could I have been so stupid? Feeling a headache coming on, I sigh. I suppose I would have to face him eventually. So I finish quickly in the bathroom and change into my clothes. Taking a deep breath, I walk downstairs.

Going down the stairs with caution, I open the door softly, not wanting to disturb Sherlock if he is sleeping. This is of course in vain hope, because I see him sitting in his chair, with his eyes closed, and his hands under his chin.

Making my steps as discreet as possible, I walk across the room to the kitchen. I go to the cabinets to look for coffee and biscuits. Looking around, I see there's already a cup brewing. I furrow my brows, how did Mrs. Hudson know I was coming downstairs?

"Hello John," a voice says, making me jump slightly.

I try to calm my frazzled nerves, and I turn around to find the detective standing with his hands behind his back; studying me curiously.

"Yes, good morning." I greet him calmly, not looking at him in the eyes.

"It's already eleven, not really morning anymore. I made coffee since you usually wake up around this time."

Raising an eyebrow at this, surprised that he made coffee.

"Erm, yeah. Thanks."

He's still studying me with a strange expression. I turn around to grab the coffee, and I decide that I would pretend I don't remember what happened last night.

Taking a cup, I sit it down on the counter. Going to the cabinets, I start looking for the biscuits.

"Do you remember what I said last night the roof?"

I almost drop the biscuits at this. Recomposing myself, I turn around and feign confusion.

"No, last night's sort of fuzzy."

Sherlock tilts his head and studies me, pursuing his lips, he narrows his eyes.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, and then closes it again, shaking his head slightly. He walks over to the fireplace and picks up a wrapped package. Grabbing it, he takes it and walks over to me.