"Oh, you may save yourself the trouble." Watson turned slightly, the better to bury his face momentarily into Holmes's hair. "I have other presents for you, as well, and I really don't wish to go to the bother of returning them. I'd rather just give them to you."

He pressed a kiss against Holmes's head, and sighed. In a perfect world, they would be able to lie here indefinitely, and it was damnably unfair that they could not. They had known that freedom, too.

"I suppose we ought not to lie around like this," he murmured. "Although I am surprisingly comfortable on the floor. Sometimes I wish more than anything," Watson added, rather suddenly, "that I might confess to everyone how very much in love with you I am. Why should I feel ashamed for it?"