"What an anti-climactic end to rising like Lazarus from the grave," Watson chortled. He pressed a kiss against Holmes's forehead. "You ought to be careful. I just might start claiming that to be true."

He let his fingers trail over Holmes's face, his cheekbones, his lips, before being unable to help himself and kissing him again.

"Is this a new 'always' or the same one after a brief and unfortunate interruption?" he wondered, softly.