I felt bad that the Ladybirds piece I posted earlier this autumn was so sad. I decided to write a post-reunion one.

Much thanks to MapleLeafCameo for looking this over for me.

I do not own so I do not profit.

John charged into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Not slowing his pace, he threw himself onto the bed. Pushing his face into his pillow, he gave a frustrated yell.

He'd only left for an hour to help Mrs. Hudson. Having a special dinner planned, he'd warned Sherlock not to touch what he had put in the refrigerator that morning. Once back in their flat, he had come into the kitchen and been met with the sight of his husband experimenting. On the very food he had been told to leave alone. Angry, John had thrown cutting words at the confused genius before exiting the room.

Twisting his body around sharply, the doctor huffed in frustration as he looked to the ceiling. John froze as all traces of anger fled from him.

There they were. Twenty tiny red speckled bodies moving about on the wallpaper. As he watched a more few crawl across the drapes, he choked back a sob. The past two years he had watched them alone, convinced he would never see his best friend, lover, partner ever again. He had watched them and mourned the loss of his other half.

There would be other special meals but there would never be another Sherlock Holmes and John had learned he was a necessity in his life once they had been cruelly separated. John smiled through his tears. Leave it to the tiny spotted animals to help him put things into perspective.

The bedroom door creaked open just enough to show the outline of a tall figure. After a brief pause, the top half of Sherlock's body leaned in.

"John, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" The detective's words came to a halt as he took in the smile his husband wore as well as the left hand that was now extended in invitation.

Sherlock made his way into the room, took John's hand and allowed himself to be moved about until his curly haired head was resting over on the chest below, strong arms encircled around him.

John ghosted a kiss against nearby skin and whispered, "I'm sorry, I should have to checked to make sure you heard me and not gotten so angry. It's just a meal, an insignificant thing in the grand scheme of life."

Sherlock shifted his head so he could look into John's face. "But it was important to you."

John ran a finger down his husband's nose before tracing his lips. "Now that I've had a minute to think about it, I realise it really isn't. Being alone for two years taught me this is important. You and I. Everything else is just extra. Nice but it's not necessary."

He gifted Sherlock with a deep kiss before grinning. "Besides, I think this is much more pleasant than the dinner I had planned."

"Cuddling on our bed?"

John chuckled. "Cuddling is nice of course but I meant this." He took one of Sherlock's hands and pointed towards the ceiling.

Confused, Sherlock gazed blankly at the wall until his eyes focused on a small shape circling through the air. Delighted, he gave a laugh of pure joy.

They spent a few minutes watching one particular ladybird that was determined to be contrary and spiral upwards instead of downwards. Every time the small creature nearly reached the top he would suddenly drop before beginning to work his way back up once more.

Yes, John thought as he took in the unguarded smile on his husband's face, this is what is precious and most important.

He tightened his arms briefly. "Having a good time?"

Sherlock's eyes sparkled, "Oh yes, perfect."