Originally posted as part of a collection called Catch-all during September 2012.

True Love, Sherlock-Style

"I'm in love with you," announced Sherlock, waltzing into the living room.

John spewed his tea, coughing and pounding his chest.

"Sorry?" he asked, when he could breathe again.

Sherlock twirled and flopped down on the couch, folding his dressing gown around him. He watched John, who was still red from earlier, carefully.

"I'm in love with you," he repeated, though he knew that John had heard him.

"And, um, when did you decide this?" asked John, massaging the crease in his forehead.

"Just now, but it's really such an obvious deduction that I should have seen it sooner."

John looked first at the ceiling and then bent down so low that his forehead was resting on the kitchen table. His shoulders tensed and Sherlock thought for a moment that he might actually begin to beat his head against the table but then he looked up.

"Are you…I mean, do you…Are you attracted to me?"

"Of course, not! Don't be ridiculous."

"Right. Of course." John rubbed his forehead again. "But you're in, ahem, love with me."

"Obviously."

"Why?"

"Because, well, you're you." He hadn't actually thought John would ask for reasons. "There's really no one else like you, John."

"Thank you, I think, but I meant: why do you think you're in love with me?"

"I faked my death for you. I hunted down assassins for you which meant going without my phone or internet access for months, and there were at least twelve particularly interesting cases that I had to bypass. And last night, I let you watch procedurals on the telly."

John was staring at him with his "I can't believe you just said that" face, which sometimes meant Sherlock had done something exceptionally wrong and sometimes meant that Sherlock had done something exceptionally right.

"Right," he said, finally. "Now that that's out there, how do you expect our relationship to change?"

"Why would we need to change anything?" asked Sherlock, confused. "We're perfectly fine as we are."

"Okay, good. Good. That's good." John nodded. "In that case, well, um, I suppose I love you too. Right."

Sherlock smiled at John, happy at the reciprocation, although, of course, he had already known John's feelings. They had been even more obvious than his.

John took another swallow of his tea, grimacing at the tepid temperature. He stood and began filling the kettle with water.

"Tea?"

"Please," said Sherlock, just to prove that he could, and their day continued on as normal.