Title: Love In All Its Selfishness
Author/Artist: CrimsonDreamer13
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Holmes/Watson
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Sherlock Holmes was a selfish man and he knew it. After all, it is what happens when one is in love.

"It has been a while, Holmes."

I did not move at that, only giving the doctor a slow nod as a sign that I acknowledged his presence in our- my - home in Baker Street. "It has, hasn't it..." I trailed off, looking up at him in blank curiosity. "It is always a pleasure to meet with you again, Watson. As you can see, I've yet to find a case with which I may spend my time. How are you and...Mary, by the by?"

He smiled at the mention of his wife and I became more impassive, heart clenching as I strained not to let anything be revealed through my facial expression. "We are doing quite well, Holmes." He paused at that note, causing me to tense as I thought of anything that might have exposed my secret to him. "As far as I can see," he smiled, "you've not resorted to the needle. I'm glad."

I breathed an inward sigh of relief with that statement, giving Watson a small smile in return as I reclined into my own armchair, "It seems as though you are right, Watson. Ah, won't you take a seat?" I motioned to his old armchair, anxious to see him once again in that same position whenever I- we- had a case, his cane propped on the armrest with his bowler hat set onto the table.

His smile slowly changed into a frown as he sat and I became rigid, turning to look at whatever it was that he was expressing his distaste at. There my violin sat, a string carelessly standing out in all its broken glory as my companion spoke, "How long has that violin of yours been broken? Why do you not fix it?"

"Oh," I waved a hand in dismissal as I prepared the tea, "Do not mind it. It has long been broken and I do not intend on fixing it. It..." I paused, looking for the right words to express what it was that the broken string represented to me, "It reminds me of one of my most important cases. Would you like some tea, Watson?"

"Tea would be good, thank you." He looked in curiosity at the violin then at me, oblivious to my discomfort as he remarked, "It is a pity that I've missed such an important case. Would you care to tell me about it, Holmes?"

Ah, now there was a problem. How was I to tell him that the case I was implying was my case with him- about him? That it was about how I figured out that I held feelings for him that were bordering on more than platonic? I could never tell him that I regretted –yet I did not, ah, such a paradox- dragging him into the case of the beautiful and intelligent Miss Morstan, who in turn took the good doctor's heart for herself. But I could not blame her- she was most deserving of him, after all. She was a charming woman, intelligence not lacking; certainly, she was made for Watson. I admit that I had no reason to complain about the doctor, seeing as he even went with me on my different cases whilst engaged to Miss Mary Morstan- but that was not what made me feel hurt.

If only Watson knew that I truly was more than a calculating, deducing machine, maybe- but no, it would still be impossible. The law states that such relationships were illegal, and the doctor was a righteous man. Yes, there may have been times when we both broke the rules just to see the successful end of our cases; but it was for the client's justice that we did so. He would never accept such a thing if I were to ask him for it.

I knew that he cared for me; it was most clear. He cared for me, he worried about me, he loved me. But that love he held for me was nothing more than for a friend, and such a disappointing thing it was for me. Vanity, as much as it seems unlikely, is not one of my traits. I only serve to deduce, to observe my surroundings, and I would be a blind man if I could not see his love for me as a friend. He cared about my habits, about how I didn't eat enough, how I didn't rest whenever we had a case- he even dared to spend his time with me in the season of Christmas leaving his wife alone in their shared abode. It was flattering how much attention I got from him, really, but it just wasn't enough.

I admit that I am a selfish man, yes. I've long known that I was and am one, proven more so with this...infatuation –or was it love? I did not know- for my friend. I wanted more of him- all of him. I wanted him for myself; nothing more and nothing less.

"I suppose I could." I turned to face him with a small smile, a hand supporting my chin as I started, "A man of certain rank...'beseeched' me to entertain his case..." He listened intently as I continued on and I smiled bitterly to myself, knowing that I could only take what was allowed of me.

His loyalty, his love- but never his whole heart.

A/N: The author is utterly amazed at the fact that she managed to write this while being on a...high. She left this one day to rot and decided to finish it, saw Star Trek, became a gooey heap of fangirl, but somehow, she still managed to finish this through all that happiness.

Hopefully you readers enjoyed!