Disclaimer: Don't own - don't profit - do this for fun!

Sherlock watched as John unconsciously rubbed at his shoulder, easing cramped muscles. He deduced that the recent case had not only been physically hard, but sitting hunched over his laptop typing up notes was doing his blogger no good whatsoever.

Making up his mind, Sherlock reached across and pulled the computer off John's lap, saving the work and closing it down.

"Oi!"

"You need to rest John," he stood and pulled the other man to his feet, silencing his protests with a soft kiss.

They moved to the bedroom, Sherlock slowly removed John's clothing, all the while dotting kisses over his body.

"You nutter." John chuckled, mussing a handful of dark curls and reaching for the buttons on Sherlock's shirt.

Bodies moving in harmony, they got into bed, Sherlock wrapping his arms around John and rubbing soothing circles across his back. In a very short while his breathing deepened, and he relaxed against Sherlock, asleep.

Waiting until he was certain that the man in his arms would not wake up, the younger man extricated himself from under the sleeping man and slid out of bed, pulled on his pyjamas, and returned to the living room.

xXx

The realisation he was alone woke John around dawn, Sherlock's side of the bed was cold. He sat up, scratching his head and wondering what could have happened to make the other man leave their bed in the middle of the night.

Curiosity getting the better of him, John flung back the covers and pulled on his bathrobe, tying the belt round his waist as he padded along the hall to the living room.

The first thing he saw was Sherlock, sprawled on the couch, a smile curving his pale lips, sleeping. As he stood looking down at this sight of wanton beauty, he realised there was something different about the room.

Gazing around, at first he couldn't place what had changed, there was just something…

Then he saw it. The desk that was once in his old room upstairs was now snug against the wall to one side of the open fire, in front of it stood Sherlock's favourite comfy office chair. On top was his laptop, his note books, and his RAMC mug with a collection of pens and pencils in it.

As he stood and stared two slender, pale arms slid around him, and a chin rested on his shoulder.

"Do you like it?"

"Sherlock? What…?"

"John, you can't go on, sitting in your armchair trying to type. I don't need the desk upstairs, not now it's being used as a lab, so I thought I'd build you a little writing nook, somewhere you can write your blog in comfort." Walking around he looked down into the doctor's deep blue eyes. "so I'll ask again, do you like it?"

A smile spread over the smaller man's face, like the sun coming out on an overcast day.

"It's brilliant!"