The birds singing tunefully were a stark contrast from the raging, explosive thoughts going on inside John's head. How dare Mycroft threaten him? What was he going to do? Wasn't he thinking for a moment how Sherlock would feel, if John suddenly 'disappeared?'

The one question he did not need to ask himself was whether or not Mycroft was serious. The grim look on his face told him the answer to that already. Mycroft's stern gaze dared John to protest even in the slightest. And John took up on that challenge.

"You're making a mistake. I'm not going to leave him."

John didn't notice it but there were armed men and women alike surrounding the area and closing in. The armed men and women didn't notice it but someone had managed to sneak into the closing circle and was now making his way over quickly. Mycroft huffed, annoyed.

"I am begging you John. I do like you. Really, I do. And I would like for you to be around as a friend of Sherlock's. You've been the best thing for him in a very long time. But if you insist on trying to pursue a romantic relationship with him, then I will have no choice but to take drastic measures."

John took notice of the people stalking forward out of the corner of his eye. He took a step back when he realized that they had him surrounded. His eyes trailed back to Mycroft in a desperate attempt to gain his sympathy.

The men and women were armed but not yet holding their weapons in any threatening manner. The few people that were at the park earlier were somehow gone. Either this was a set up from the beginning or they were told to leave.

"Don't do this Mycroft. You're not going to help your brother this way."

"John. John. John," Mycroft 'tsk'ed, "I will not let anything else happen to him. He cannot handle a heartbreak like other people can."

"He's not weak!"

"I didn't say he was. But he is different and I am sensitive to that fact. Much more so than you are, let me tell you. I'm giving you one more chance, John. Call him right now and tell him you're ending it. Or you will be escorted out of London. Possibly out of the country."

"And do you really think that would work on me?" a voice asked.

John was startled, as well as the armed men and women. Mycroft, however, looked coolly at the new figure. He offered a polite smile.

"How are you today, brother dear?"

"Don't you 'brother dear' me," Sherlock snarled, his arms down at his sides but shaking in rage, "Did you actually think that if you had John call me to break it off, I would fall for it?"

"Sherlock, you know I don't hold you in such low regards as that. Of course I knew my influence on the matter would be obvious. But I wasn't trying to be sneaky. I was just hoping to get John to realize that-"

"That I'm a weakling."

Mycroft's smile fell. Even the birds must have felt the tension then because they had stopped singing. John rushed over to Sherlock's side and looked at Mycroft.

"I think it's best that we leave now."

This was starting to get out of hand, and John for one wanted to make sure the situation didn't get any uglier than it had to. But Mycroft was not nearly ready to give up.

"Both of you listen to me. I will take away John by force if I have to. Call it barbaric but at this point I don't care."

After he spoke the armed men and women began to walk closer. Sherlock placed his hand on John's shoulder and glared at anyone foolish enough to try to take him away. They were unfazed and continued to close the distance between them. Sherlock and John instinctively huddled together.

"Mycroft you can't do this."

Mycroft arched an eyebrow at his little brother.

"Can you stop me? I told you before that I am not going to risk you trying to take your life again."

Mycroft's employees were getting too close. Sherlock's eyes darted to the ground. Then they shot back up.

"And what if taking John away would have the opposite of the desired effect?"

"...Excuse me?" Mycroft's voice was quiet but rising dangerously. His eyes were wide in increasingly stronger rage.

"What if taking away John made me try to kill myself anyway?" Sherlock asked, "Then what would you do? You may try to stop me but it's impossible to keep protecting someone so determined to die. That's why you can't take him away from me."

The hand on John's shoulder squeezed possessively. Mycroft's employees stood their ground, waiting for their boss's next orders like trained bloodhounds waiting when to be told to run. Mycroft stared at his little brother in astonishment, clearly not believing what he was hearing. His jaw was slack and his mouth was just barely forming an o.

Then his face scrunched up in anger.

"Try it.," he snarled, "Try it. I've stop you before and I'll stop you again! But let me tell you right now if you do...If you do try to pull that goddamn stunt like you did before then you won't have a moment alone to yourself for the rest of your life! And that would be hell for you. Certainly you don't want to be locked up somewhere like...like a fairy-tale princess just because you can't deal with the rough moments in life!"

"So you do think I'm weak!"

Mycroft's face was red.

"Fine! You want me to say it so badly? I think you're weak! That's why I have you go on dangerous cases, isn't it? Because I think you're weak. It makes complete sense, my little genius brother."

"Don't insult me," and Sherlock turned to John, "We're going," back at Mycroft, "Try to stop us but we'll force our way out if we have to."

"There's no need for that," Mycroft informed softly, closing his eyes and calming down considerably, "Just tell me you're going to be fine and I'll let you leave. Tell me you aren't going to hurt yourself."

John took a moment to look at the elder Holmes. To really look at him. The man looked worn out to exhaustion.

"I promise I will be fine. Stop mothering me."

x

Sherlock gulped down his tea while slouching in his seat. John sat beside him but was actually taking the time to taste his tea. Sherlock placed his cup down and rubbed his temples.

John savored the earl grey flavor entering into his taste buds. He sighed, his muscles warm and relaxing.

"John. Do you want to..kiss?"

Did he ever. John smiled at Sherlock. The detective sounded so nervous, it was almost cute. No scratch that. It was cute. Lord only knows how Sherlock would react if he found out what John was thinking.

Sherlock took John's smile as encouragement and joined him on the couch. He felt his heart flutter. The last time they tried anything heated Mycroft had interrupted. John leaned in and planted a firm kiss on Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock deepened the kiss and soon the two were squeezing their bodies together, trying to get as close as humanely possible.

"Sherlock," John breathed between kisses.

Sherlock's long arms trailed down John's back in a soft caress. John took to digging his fingers into Sherlock's soft, curly hair, relishing in the feel of each individual black strand. Sherlock lied down and John got on top of him. John's tongue entered Sherlock's mouth tentatively, almost as if asking for permission to enter. The two were getting drunk off each others' scent, warmth and sweet, soft lips.

They went on for the rest of the night just kissing tenderly, which was enough for the both of them...for now at least. Sherlock slept wrapped up in John's arms on John's own bed. Sherlock didn't hint that he wanted to do anything else and John suspected it was because he was afraid Mycroft had hidden cameras which he hadn't yet spotted out. John was glad that no one interrupted them kissing.

The next few days were not so good to say the least. Sherlock was getting harder and harder to deal with and John could only guess that the man was testing his limits. At first the attacks were subtle. Sherlock would comment on how surprised he was at John that he still couldn't properly deduce a person's career by their handshake or whether or not they are currently single by looking at their hat.

Then the jibes became more explicit. At home Sherlock would be in his dark moods, cooping himself in his room without John and outright insulting the doctor if John ever tried talking to him.

John would groan then wait in front of a telly that he wasn't paying attention to for Sherlock to come out. But one night when Sherlock still hadn't left his room and John knew it's been a while since he last ate, an argument broke out.

"You're worse than Mycroft. I can take care of myself, thank you. You're just as nagging as my brother with half the brains."

It stung John terribly and it took all his power to blow it off.

"I'm just trying to help, you idiot! I'm not nagging I'm concerned. And you shouldn't just assume.."

"Assume that your sister is a drunkard? Yes don't look so surprised John it's clear to me from that damn watch on your wrist. The crown of it has been decorated with a single piece of rhinestone. A false gemstone isn't normally worn by a man, so it's clear to me that it use to be hers before she gave it to you as an obligated tradition of Christmas or your birthday or whatever. There is a slight but noticeable stain on the very side of the watch that could only come from ale. The color is certainly too pale for a soda pop and I'm sure that whoever was clumsy enough to splash their watch with it and let it stain was drunk at the time. Shall I go on to explain how I knew that she stained it or how I knew the woman who use to own the watch was your sister? No? Fine. So yes, I hardly assume John. And believe me, you are a nagging little bitch right now."

Pause. It was silent except for Sherlock's soft huffing from yelling. John looked at him pleadingly while Sherlock just gave him a cold, nasty glare. The doctor waited for an apology, an explanation that Sherlock was just angry and he didn't mean it and that he regretted saying it.

Nothing like that came. Sherlock looked just as mean as when he said it with a snarl.

"I have to go," John dashed for the door.

"John," Sherlock's voice was suddenly desperate and John turned to look at him, "Don't leave. Please. Don't make Mycroft right."

The side of John's lip twitched in a fraction of an unhappy smile.

"I just need some air. I'm...really angry and I need some air."

"I'll go with you."

"No. No I need to be away from you for right now. Just now, Sherlock. I'm not leaving you," promised John.

While John was getting his jacket, Sherlock was fidgeting with his hands and shuffling his feet.

When Sherlock called out John's name, it was almost too softly spoken for the other man to hear. The two looked right in each others' eyes.

"Please. Just five minutes okay? Be back after five minutes."

John opened his mouth to protest but Sherlock shook his head.

"No, I mean it. If you're not back in five minutes, then I'll assume that you left me. Please John. Five minutes."

It was spoken with such seriousness that John couldn't bring himself to object. He nodded his head and went out to walk, checking his watch occasionally. When the four minute mark came, John was having second thoughts. Why shouldn't he have as much time as he needed to cool down? Who was Sherlock to try to control him?

But on the other hand, what if Sherlock...what if he becomes heartbroken that John didn't keep his promise? John couldn't risk it. He still remembered vividly what Mycroft told him about Victor. Whether he was ready or not to come back one thing was certain, he had to face Sherlock.

He took in a few deep breaths to calm himself as much as he possibly could within the limited amount of time that he had left.

He walked into his flat a few seconds after the five minute mark. John put up his jacket, not paying any attention. When he turned around, he stopped suddenly and gasped at what he saw.

Mycroft was there with Sherlock. How was he able to just pop out of thin air like that? He was sitting across from Sherlock, who stood up when he saw John. Sherlock looked at his older brother.

"See? Now don't bother me again."

Mycroft stood up as well, looking more please with John since the doctor had started dating Sherlock. He turned to his younger sibling.

"Well fine. Then you have my approval."

"Fantastic," Sherlock muttered sarcastically.

"What the hell's going on here?"

The two Holmes brothers looked at John. Mycroft came over and shook the stunned man's hand.

"A simple test, really. And you passed. Now that I'm sure you won't leave Sherlock after such a heated argument, I'm more than happy to have you as my future in-law."

John did a double-take.

"Your what? Wait! How did Sherlock know that you were watching us?"

"Cameras are easy to spot, John," Sherlock said off-handedly, "Instead of taking them out I used the opportunity to show Mycroft what a git he was being."

It was all so confusing and happening so quickly. A test? Sherlock's behavior was all a test? Mycroft bid the two lovers a very good-night and left. Sherlock shifted his weight awkwardly, waiting for John's reaction.

"So..." John said finally after a very long pause, "He's not going to bother us anymore?"

Sherlock, seeing that he was forgiven, smiled. He walked over and wrapped his arms around John, who returned the embrace.

"Of course he's going to bother us, John. But at least he's not going to object anymore. I..er..don't know how to say this but I'm sorry about that and...I...love you."

John snuck in a kiss.

"Love you too."

End.

Very experimental ending. Remember. Comments are our friends. (^M^)