"I love you too. I'm angry with you," his voice was more tired than really angry, "but I love you."

Watson drew Holmes towards the bedroom, sliding their fingers together. "Don't you ever do this to me again," he murmured, his voice very soft. "Not ever. I had to go to your funeral. If I have to go a second time, I shan't survive it, so it had better be in earnest next time."

He was very close, not daring to draw more than an inch or two away from Holmes if he could help it. With the bedroom door closed behind them, he turned to Holmes and began, slowly and methodically, to undo Holmes's buttons.