The date was February 14. Also known as Valentine's day.

John had been planning this since, well, technically since the beginning of their relationship about 6 months ago but only recently picked up the idea again. The scavenger hunt he had been planning with Derek, Victoria and Isaac.

In the time between, the boys, both their physical and mental forms have been through hell and back. Football season ended, but John remained friends with the team as well as Derek and the others, and Sherlock didn't mind because every day John reminded him that the past would not repeat itself. John got a new job at the library, where he worked for two hours after school while Sherlock read books or researched.

Sherlock started to pursue detective work more- analyzing details, trying to read people. He had especially taken interest in reading crime mystery books. He had also pointed a few things out to Greg that the Yard had missed which proved vital to the case.

Overall, everything was good and happy.

The idea of the scavenger hunt never left the back of John's mind, and now with a steady paycheck, a settled mind and a home he was ready to execute the plan. Luckily it was a Saturday, so John had the whole day planned, starting with the alarm clock set for 8 am.

The shrill alarm rang out, waking them from a deep sleep. The sun peaked through the crack in the window, dimly lighting the room.

Sherlock groaned and stuck his face in the pillow. John chuckled and rolled over so he was facing Sherlock. Then he planted a lingering kiss on the side of his head. Sherlock turned on his side now so they were facing each other. Then John cupped his face and kissed him good-morning. Sherlock was both too lazy and unwilling to move away until John pulled back and chirped "Happy Valentine's day!"

"Is that today?" Sherlock asked sleepily.

"Yes, and you're getting up right now, I have the day planned." John jumped out of the bed and brushed his teeth, showered and got dressed. All Sherlock had done was rolled off the bed.

John walked back into the room with towel-dried hair, smiling face and a fresh aura. "C'mon Up you get, or I'll invite Mycroft to come with me instead," John said jokingly.

"Please don't. I also fear that he has plans today, so you may be disappointed if that's what this comes to." Sherlock sniffed but got up anyway, smoothing out his pyjamas.

"Get dressed, you git, I'll meet you downstairs," John said fondly and walked out of the room.

…

After John made breakfast and both had eaten 'till they were full John handed Sherlock the first clue. It was a slip of paper inside a blank envelope, giving nothing away from the outside. Sherlock gave John a sceptical but excited glance before carefully tearing open the letter.

"Remember the time I made you watch Bedtime Stories and that night you told me a story about us spending the rest of our lives together happily and healthily, I fell asleep before I could tell you how much I want that with you." Read the letter.

"Francis Bacon" Sherlock looked up, realization falling over his face. John smirked as Sherlock ran up the stairs, tripping a few times. John followed.

As Sherlock scrambled to open up his computer and turn it on, he mumbled more to himself than John "Francis Bacon invented a coding system in which he broke up his cypher text into groups of five characters. Each group represented a plaintext letter, when all the characters were put together it created the intended deciphered code. Now, where is it!" Sherlock quickly found the deciphering chart on the internet and began decrypting the message, by first highlighting every other 5 letters as to make it easier to see the different groups.

MUSEUM OF LONDON… Sherlock gave John a curious look but John just smiled in return. Sherlock continued… THE REST IS TO WASTE…

Sherlock looked up, "waste what? John?"

John chuckled and rolled his eyes, "I was gonna put time or space but I couldn't think of enough to add, plus I'd already got the point across, heh,"

Sherlock playfully sneered, "waste my time eh, well no more!" He jumped and ran at full speed down the stairs and out the door, leaving John to grin and follow him.

…

Sherlock ran for a bit until he got too tired and hailed a cab on a main street, with John right at his heels. "Well that was a good run," John was completely unfazed, it was like it was just a warmup for him while on the other hand, Sherlock was slightly panting, sweat running down the side of his face.

"Yeah… good," Sherlock coughed, then straightened up and rode in silence until they reached the museum.

He hopped out of the cab and burst through the glass doors, leaving John to pay and catch up.

Once inside, Sherlock stopped and looked around. Nothing exactly stood out to be special for him, but since he had never been here before it was all quite extraordinary.

John said from behind him, "I was hoping you'd like to, you know, just, look around for a bit, cos you like history and museums and stuff, also keep your eyes peeled! I might have left a clue somewhere," John smiled shyly.

"Of course I'd love to look around! This is a collection of interesting artefacts from people who actually lived." He drawled.

"Hey now," John chimed. Sherlock has been getting more… harsh on humans that weren't himself, or John, or his family- in regards to intelligence, purpose in life, waste of space and that sort.

Sherlock turned the corner of his lip up and strode off into the first exhibit he could see.

For the next hour and a bit, Sherlock was happy learning and committing whatever he deemed interesting or important to memory. John was happy making him happy.

Currently they were analyzing (well, John was just looking) an old animal skull of a rare species when something caught the corner of Sherlock's eye- an envelope that perfectly blended into the wooden floor's pattern. He threw a suspicious glance towards John, who couldn't hide his smile.

Sherlock bent over and delicately picked it up and ripped it open. There wasn't just a piece of paper this time, out slid a key. A simple key, and every key has a lock to open. Before he looked into that more, he slipped out the piece of paper which had some writing on it. The problem was that the letters were so small they were discernable.

"John I can't read this, it's too small," Sherlock said somewhat frustrated but more curious.

"Yes I know," John smirked. "Come, let's keep looking around, then we can get lunch."

For the next hour and a half they browsed around the rest of the museum, although Sherlock found it hard to concentrate due to the unanswered questions about the mysterious unreadable clue.

Eventually Sherlock burst, "John I'm dying. I need to know what this is," Sherlock flailed the little buggering piece of paper. John had the decency to chuckle at his pain.

"Alright, let's get lunch now. Getting a bit hungry anyway, C'mon," John said while tugging at Sherlock's hand, leading him out the door.

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked while being dragged behind John.

"Guess," John said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Give me a hint then."

John bent over and picked up a rock. "I suppose this gives it away, but I'm pretty hungry."

"Hard rock café, brilliant. Let's go," Sherlock smiled and flagged down a cab. How Sherlock could always manage to hail a cab, no matter where they were or how busy it was still amazed him.

…

Once finishing a delightful lunch, Sherlock looked at John, almost bouncing in his seat. Eagerness shone in his eyes while John paid the bill, then jumped up and John smirked. "What now?" Sherlock asked him.

"Go up and ask that man admiring the posters if he has a package for you," John said with a twinkle in his eye.

Sherlock huffed. "But John… people… I don't wanna talk to strangers," and he sighed.

"I mean we can just go home and leave the key and tiny note for another day…" He trailed off. Sherlock glared at John, then smiled and stalked off to meet the man.

From afar, John watched Sherlock approach the man and say something. Recognition sparked in the man's eyes and he walked off to retrieve something. Sherlock gave John a questioning look.

He returned not long after with a rolled up something and a small envelope. Sherlock thanked the man and returned to John, barely able to wait until they've left the restaurant to open the package.

First, he unrolled the object to reveal a 1980's Queen poster of the band's Greatest Hits album, autographed by all the members. "Is this real?" Sherlock asked, eyes glued to the poster.

John scratched the back of his head nervously. "Yea, um I ran into it in the corner of a thrift store and asked the expert here to see if it was authentic. Turns out I got really lucky and it is, s I asked them to keep it safe until today. I thought you'd like it, remember that day when I said that I didn't know you liked classic rock, and you said that there's a lot of things I don't know about you, yet." John looked at his shoes.

"I love it John, and of course I remember," Sherlock said, pecking the side of John's head before turning his attention to the new envelope, which bulged a little.

He tore into it, sliding out a small glass circle with a plastic type casing. "What's this?" Sherlock said, turning it over in his hands.

"It's, um, a magnifying glass, it can fit in your pocket so you can take it wherever you want," John smiled.

"John stop being nervous. Do you really think you could get me something I wouldn't like? You are amazing and kind and you know me so well." Sherlock paused to kiss the side of John's nose. "I just feel bad because you're doing so much for me, and I only have one or two things for you."

John ogled in surprise, "You got me something? For Valentine's day?" He inquired.

"Of course I did, I'm not obtuse," Sherlock replied, and before John could say anything else he dug into his pocket for the previous note.

With a sound of satisfaction, he pulled it out and unfolded it carefully, then bending on the ground to put his other things down and get an easier angle on the paper.

Using the magnifying glass, he discovered the paper read – "At least one body a day is fished out of me st." Sherlock read aloud. "Really John this is too easy. 'Fished' gave it away."

So they got in a taxi and Sherlock told the driver "Lower Thames Street."

…

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the street, paid the cabbie and hopped out. Sherlock rubbed his hands together, "okay what am I looking for?" he inquired.

"I dunno, maybe something you can open with a key?" John smirked.

Sherlock made an 'aha' noise and stalked off towards along the sidewalk. It didn't take very long for him to spot the dark blue backpack tied to the base of a streetlamp with a bike lock.

"You put a lot of faith in Londoners John," he said but grinned nonetheless.

John, happy to see the backpack still there, followed earnestly.

Sherlock tugged the key out of his front pocket, accidentally dropping a few things. "I get to keep the backpack right?" He asked.

John laughed and nodded his head.

"Good, carrying all this around is getting frustrating." He opened the lock and wrapped up the wire, shoving it the bag in exchange for taking out the thing that occupied some of the space already. He pulled out a hardcover book, titled 'The Science of Deduction.' Sherlock blinked in John's direction. "How did you know?"

John chuckled and replied, "Well you've pretty much read all the ones at the library, and I've noticed you searching up this very specific book on the computer, figured you were interested. Although I have to say I may have written something in there myself."

Sherlock flipped open the book cover, and on the first page, in John's handwriting, were some words. Take me to the place we had our first date.

Sherlock carefully emptied the contents of his pockets into the backpack and slung it around his shoulder. Then he stood up and slung his arm around John possessively. John leaned in and wrapped his own around Sherlock's waist as they made their way to the park.

…

Once they'd found the tree, John told Sherlock to sit, which he did, then jogged off.

Sherlock smiled to himself, despite how tedious romantic holidays were, he couldn't deny that he had an incredible time being spoiled today. And he couldn't wait to give John his presents either.

John returned with a bag of tacos. "I dunno if you're hungry but, when you are…" John trailed off.

"Thank you, John," Sherlock said and took the bag, pulling out the food.

Sherlock dug in, and after a moment so did John, and they just sat in companionable silence, listening to the wind rustle the trees and the soft crunch of frosty grass under the feet of passer-Byers.

Once the food was finished off and the garbage thrown out, John realized how cold it had gotten. The day was fairly mild for February, but now that the sun was setting and the wind picking up it had gotten chilly.

John shivered, and Sherlock sidled up next to him. "So," John began, "how'd you like today?"

He seemed under confident, for his usual self. "I loved it. It was creative and fun and got us out of the house, enticing and frustrating and curious. You know me so well and there's no one else who could ever get me that many things that I would actually like. I don't know how or when you did it. John, you are amazing." Sherlock said, all while making eye contact.

John grinned brighter than ever, and Sherlock just had to lean in and kiss him. And so for the next few minutes, they sat undisturbed, softly and quietly understanding each other, when a large gust of wind blew against John's back, causing him to shiver. Sherlock leaned back a bit and rubbed his hands against John's arms to try and warm him up a bit.

"I suppose I'll give you my gifts now," Sherlock smiled and pulled back to grab something out of his pocket. John looked eager and curious.

Sherlock handed over a small red box, about the size of a book, to John. John lifted the top off and inside was a sleek black screen, a phone! John looked up in amazement. "I… I don't know what to say, I can't accept this Sherlock! It's way too expensive!"

"Nonsense, now we have a way to communicate with each other, and I can help you set up music, and you can do research on it, play games, do whatever you like."

John lifted up the thin object like it was the most fragile piece of glass in the world. He turned it over and ran his fingers over it lightly. "This is amazing, thank you, my goodness."

"One more thing," Sherlock said and dug around in the front pocket of the backpack.

"I can't take anything else!" John exclaimed.

"You can and you will, look how many things you got me," Sherlock said. John resigned.

Sherlock told John to close his eyes, and he complied, curious.

When Sherlock told him to open them, he had in his hands a silver chain. John scooted backwards. "Nononono I can't, Sherlock that's way too much."

Sherlock held out his hands further. "John it's a gift… do you… do you not like it?" he frowned and shrunk back a bit.

Dammit, John thought. "Of course I love it, it's just, why did you spend so much money?"

Sherlock beckoned for John to come closer, and with a look he scooted back forwards. John let Sherlock put the chain around his neck, breath ghosting over each other's faces. "Because I'm in love with you."

John's heart stopped. He sat there staring unbelievably into Sherlock's impossible eyes. Sherlock acted calm and patient but inside he was questioning if this was a mistake, if he was going too fast.

What seemed like an eternity later John snapped back into reality and grabbed the front of Sherlock's shirt, pulling him in for an aggressive kiss, which scrambled Sherlock's thoughts even more into nothing. His brain was silence and all that existed was him and John, right here, right now.

John was thinking about how anyone could love him, after all he's been through. How every moment in his life led him to this. His sister's relationships, his father's drinking, his mother dying, running away, his sister leaving, and the decision to buy those pills. Everything he's ever done led him to that night he heard the words whispered in his ear 'Live for Sherlock Holmes.'

How being with Sherlock and his parents, and even his brother felt more like home then he'd ever felt, how he knew he was ruined the day Sherlock took him to the park that first time, the dread he'd felt when he lied and almost lost Sherlock because he was trying to do something nice.

How it almost ended in him dying, and the number of times Sherlock had saved him, and something just clicked into place, because he knew that this was right.

Breathless, John pulled back and stared into Sherlock's dark eyes. "I love you too."

Wow, so this will be the end I think. Thank you all who have read, liked, commented or messaged me. This story definitely wouldn't have gotten so long without you so thank you and if you enjoyed please please comment anything, don't be shy! It makes me happy for a long time. Also if you have any constructive criticism or anything I will take that as a lesson and further apply it to any future writing!

This story was not beta read or brit picked or meant for formal writing, it's purely for fun and leisure, though i did do a bit of research on google maps about some of the locations and cyphers and that sort.

This is the Francis Bacon cypher and the website I found it on, I thought it was an interesting and different way to convey a coded message, although it took a while to actually get across the message.

A=***** G=**BB* M=*BB** S=B**B* Y=BB***

B=****B H=**BBB N=*BB*B T=B**BB Z=BB**B

C=***B* I=*B*** O=*BBB* U=B*B**

D=***BB J=*B**B P=*BBBB V=B*B*B

E=**B** K=*B*B* Q=B**** W=B*BB*

F=**B*B L=*B*BB R=B***B X=B*BBB

.