don't worry it won't stay this cute

[mustbethetruth]

It's a little alarming to Holmes that he enjoyed their evening. He and Watson spent most of the day with Lestrade and Mary, and he enjoyed himself, even in their silly romantic company. What this means for him, he couldn't possibly say. Is Watson softening his character to the point where he has friends, in a normal way, and he enjoys it?

Mycroft will never believe it. Actually, he might laugh at him. Holmes would be alright with that, as he feels liable to laugh at himself just now.

It's dark as they approach Baker street, and he's humming the opera for Watson's benefit. The street's fairly empty, and he's happy -- properly happy -- so he breaks away from Watson and dances with himself, only just able to stop himself from laughing and ruining the spectacle of the moment.

Comments

[lightconductor]

Feeling positively light-headed with happiness, Watson did laugh, because Holmes was being ridiculous, because the evening had been sublime, because he was enjoying hearing echoes of arias hummed through the streets, because things were dark and quiet and the streets were theirs, because he was in love.

"You are a madman," he chuckled, resisting the urge to catch Holmes again and dance with him, to kiss him, to do anything more demonstrative than simply look at him fondly. "You're lucky that it's one of your best features."

[mustbethetruth]

"Avoid dying, for starters." He smiles at Watson and shrugs out of his shirt. "Whoever wants us dead didn't do a very good job tonight," he points out, as he steps out of his trousers. "He could have easily shot me, or finished you off, and he didn't even fire again." He drifts off into the sitting room to get his pipe and tobacco, and he returns packing it before he sets it between his teeth.

"These attacks are as much communication as they are serious attempts." He slides under the covers and reaches for Watson's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.