"Hey freak. Your boyfriend's asleep against my car."

Sally Donovan leaned against the frame of the warehouse door, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, looked pointedly at Greg Lestrade, who sighed and said, "Donovan, go with Anderson."

Sherlock smirked happily as Sally huffed out of the warehouse. Then he studied the cold corpse in front of him, and the smile faded.

"This isn't worth my time, Lestrade. Even Anderson could figure this out."

Before Greg could argue, Sherlock added, "I have to get John home, he's been having nightmares and he's exhausted. Don't bother giving my regards to my brother." The tall brunet turned, ignoring Greg's mutterings of "how did you know about us?"

John Watson sat on the pavement, leaned against the front wheel of a police car, and snoring softly. Sherlock took a second to study his best friend, the thin lips and sturdy shoulders that made John seem confident despite his height. Gently tapping on his shoulder, Sherlock woke him up enough to get him into a cab.

John woke in his room around three in the morning to the sound of a violin screeching in the living room. He rubbed his eyes, then pulled back his quilt to find he was still wearing the clothes he had worn to the crime scene with Sherlock. Shaking his head, John got up and padded down to see his flatmate.

"How did last night's case go?"

Sherlock turned, then answered "Boring. I brought you home."

"Oh, the Great Sherlock bloody Holmes cares about someone?" John threw himself into his armchair, grinning ear to ear.

"Did the nightmares wake you?"

John looked up to see Sherlock looking intently at him, and shook his head. "I just woke up and wondered why I'm not in my pajamas."

"Oh that." Sherlock put his violin in its case, then settled himself onto the couch. "I carried you in from the cab."

Feeling his face heat up, John simply said, "Oh."

Raising an eyebrow, Sherlock fixed him with a multicolored eye. "Lestrade and my dear brother have been together a while now."

John laughed. "Are you starting to feel sentimental too, Sherlock?"

"Of course not."

"Shall we watch some telly, then?" John asked after a pause. He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and clicked through the channels until he found Doctor Who reruns. "Is the Doctor ok?"

"You're the only doctor I need, John."