Al's Turtle gave me the idea for this little epilogue. Thanks Al for the prompt! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this extra little snippet.

Nearly two months had passed since Sherlock and Ellie had begun their romantic relationship. They hadn't exactly told anyone about it yet, though Lestrade had very clear suspicions. Mrs. Hudson discovered their status as a couple when she walked in on Ellie and Sherlock curled up together on the sofa, cuddling. John was well aware of the relationship as well (and he often reminded them that he was the one who orchestrated their first meeting). It wasn't as if they were trying to hide the romantic attachment that had been sparked between them. Honestly, no one knew simply because no one ever really bothered to ask.

That all changed, however, after a particularly unexceptional case. Some random thug had shot and killed his business partner. It had taken Sherlock all of three hours to deduce just who the murderer was. Jason Hamilton—a twenty-eight-year-old washout who had recently taken to running a series of rather simple-minded scams with Roger Barker, the victim. Sherlock, Ellie, and the Yarders had managed to chase Hamilton into a large warehouse, filled with crates and cargo containers. This made it difficult to pinpoint the exact location of the man they were pursuing, so they all split up, cautiously weaving through the many crates and containers in an attempt to locate the suspect.

Ellie slowly poked her head around one large container, wondering if Sherlock was any closer to finding this guy than she was. It was a maze in the warehouse, and it could have taken quite awhile to finally capture Hamilton.

Suddenly, Sherlock's voice rang throughout the building. "Found him!" he shouted.

Ellie was already running toward him when she heard it.

A gunshot.

It was deafening as it echoed in the maze of containers. With that one sound, Ellie felt panic like she had never before experienced. Sherlock hadn't brought a gun, which meant that it must've been the killer's weapon that had fired the shot. He had fired at Sherlock.

Images of his crumpled, bleeding body sprang to the forefront of her mind, and she redoubled her efforts and sprinted even faster toward where Sherlock was. She rounded a corner and saw Lestrade handcuffing Hamilton. Ellie's eyes immediately darted toward Sherlock, lying there on the floor. At first, she assumed the worst, but, thankfully, he lifted his head off the ground and looked dazedly around him.

He was absolutely fine.

"You bastard!" she shouted, walking over toward Sherlock and kneeling down beside him. "You complete and utter bastard! How could you go and do something like that? You could've been killed!"

Donovan, who was standing beside Lestrade and intently eavesdropping, muttered to the DI, "Do you think she'll finally leave him now? It's for her own good."

Lestrade merely shook his head. He could tell that Ellie wasn't truly angry by the way her voice had cracked on the word "killed." She had been worried, and she was upset, but she most certainly wasn't angry.

"I-I'm sorry," Sherlock replied, still looking a bit confused. The bullet had missed his head by an inch, and it was imbedded in the concrete floor right next to him. It was strange to have been confronted with death so suddenly, and he wasn't processing the situation as quickly as he would have liked.

"Damn right you're sorry," Ellie said, hitting him in the chest. There was no real power behind the blow, and Sherlock reached out to hold her hand to his chest, right above his slightly erratically-beating heart. "Don't you dare do that again. You bastard! How could you have let this happen? God, I hate you. How could you worry me like that? I really, really hate you."

Even as Ellie spoke these words, the fight went out of her. A few tears trickled down her cheeks, and she tucked her head against Sherlock's chest. She had been so worried, and it was terrifying to think how close she'd come to losing him, just because he'd decided to take on Hamilton by himself.

Sherlock reached his arm up and pulled her close. He pressed kisses to her hair and whispered what he assumed were soothing words in her ear.

"Do you really hate me?" he asked softly after awhile.

Ellie shook her head. "No…God, I could never hate you. I love you, Sherlock. I could never hate you," she mumbled into his chest.

Sherlock's heart stuttered as those words escaped her lips. That was the first time she had actually said that she loved him. From all the movies and crap telly he had seen, he had always assumed that the first declaration of love was supposed to be dramatic and frightening and colossal. But Ellie simply allowed the words to slip out…it felt almost natural.

Sherlock smiled. "Love you, too," he murmured back. He lifted her head up so that they were at eye level with one another. "I promise to never do something that idiotic again."

And then, he kissed her. It was sweet and chaste, very much like their first kiss—it was perfect.

"What the hell is going on?" Donovan shouted, causing the couple to break apart. "Why are you"—she gestured wildly in Ellie's direction—"kissing him?"

Ellie cocked her head to the side and smiled slightly. "Well, I guess it's not really a secret anymore, is it?" she said to Sherlock. Then, turning back to the very confused Donovan, she explained, "We're in a relationship…obviously, and it's going quite nicely—not that it's any of your business."

Donovan's mouth opened and closed a few times in what Sherlock assumed was a rather poor imitation of a fish. "But he's a psychopath! Why are you dating a psychopath?"

Ellie's eyes suddenly flashed dangerously. "We've been over this, Donovan. Sherlock is not, and has never been, a psychopath or a freak or any of those other awful things you call him. We're dating because he's bloody fantastic, and honestly, you'd be lucky to spend as much time with him as I do. Now, if you're done gaping like a retarded goldfish, Sherlock and I will just be on our way."

She stood up and forced Sherlock to his feet. He had another one of those goofy grins on his face, and seeing that expression on a supposed sociopath caused Donovan to flounder even more. Ellie and Sherlock walked out together, hand-in-hand, smiling at each other the whole way out.

"What has the world come to?" Donovan asked quietly. "I honestly don't understand anything anymore."

Lestrade, who had observed this whole exchange without interfering, continued to ignore Sally. In his opinion, Sherlock and Ellie were the cutest damn couple he'd ever seen.