The Process of Falling, a sherlock fanfic

'Falling for you' is by Nick Howard – magnificent song; hope no one minds me borrowing it!

As usual; I own nothing, I just love these characters and they are so easy to write about – especially when I have an awesome readership! Thanks guys, hope you enjoy this one shot!

+The Process of Falling+

John Watson found himself sitting alone in the homely living room of 221B, the radio in the window was on as the missing flatmate had turned it on earlier. The laptop on his knee looked at him blankly as he tapped idly on the touch pad. Sherlock had been out for over an hour now. John found himself thinking about the consulting detective and hoped he wasn't in trouble of any sort.

As if the radio started reading the ex-soldier's mind a gentle song filled the room and John found himself listening intently to the lyrics, gazing out of the window from his position on his old armchair.

'I start to think about the way you make me smile
Like pictures in my mind I hold them for a while
I'm thinking to myself yes I'm a lucky man
I don't believe in fairytales but this time around I can'

John smiled at that, he instantly pictured the smile Sherlock gave him earlier that day in the kitchen, he was a lucky man. Or maybe Sherlock was the lucky man to have such a willing side-kick?

'I start to think about the way you make me laugh
There's no one else on earth that I could ever love
When I stop and look at you my heart it starts to bloom
My legs and arms they crumble, when you walk into the room'

John's heart suddenly held still as he heard this verse, well, that was…sort of applicable to their situation. The doctor had become aware of the fact that every date he had been on for the last three months had found himself comparing their mental capabilities and sense of humour to that of his flatmate, friend and colleague. Not to mention how happy John became when Sherlock interrupted a date or his work at the clinic, it was as though his personality changed for the better when the consulting detective was around.

'Now I'm falling for you I hope you're falling for me
And I'm falling so hard that I am head over heels
And I hope you touch down before my feet hit the ground
I'm falling for you
I hope you're falling for me'

John smiled despite himself, the song was happy and it was true, he did have a peculiar regard for his best friend. He hadn't made many friends before him, and he certainly would make none whilst still with him; Sherlock had become his home, being with Sherlock meant sure excitement; Sherlock was a gift to John with red ribbons wrapped delicately around him. John found himself wishing he knew if Sherlock felt the same.

'I start a list of all my favourite things you do
Like the way your smile can light up any room you choose
I love the way you look at me and hold my hand
The things I couldn't do before when I'm with you I can'

The experiments in the fridge, the time that Sherlock had burnt his laptop with acid and bought him a brand new one, the way he wears that coat, the way he uses his skill, his deductions, his eyes and oh that smile! That smile could light up Tower Bridge if Sherlock put his mind to it. John had convinced himself some years ago that Sherlock had a special smile just for him, directed only when John could see. That night that they had broken away from the police wearing handcuffs; they had had to hold hands to run with efficiency; oh how John's heart had leapt. All those years ago, when John had returned from the war with a limp; all it took was for Sherlock to lead him on an irrelevant and pointless goose chase through London's back streets; John had jumped and sprinted – like he hadn't done in months, and that was Sherlock's doing. He couldn't have done it without the man.

There goes that chorus again, it makes John think more of the smiles he receives the encouragement, the chance to voice opinions; rarely bestowed upon anyone else, the times he has been saved, the times he has saved and the defence his friend puts up to protect his doctor to the very last.

'See you've got my grip and I can't let go
I'm falling hard and the whole world knows
The whole world's singing 'L-L -Love Love Love'
Well I'm standing here and I'll break your fall
And we'll scream and shout it out
Till the whole worlds singing 'L-L -Love Love Love'
Till the whole worlds singing 'L-L -Love Love Love''

John thinks about that awful day that Sherlock had jumped, he had run faster than he had ever run before, he had stood below the falling man, ready to catch him. It had hurt, sure, they both broke bones and were in hospital for over 14 days, but it had been worth it; John had caught Sherlock; he did break his fall – literally. Would you do that for a platonic relationship?

'They say you lose the spark in time well that's not true
I still get butterflies whenever I see you
I'm so relieved that you fell just as hard as me
Together we'll keep falling, and in love we'll always be'

John had a sudden rush of nerves, how could he find out if his best friend felt the same way that he obviously felt? He had to know. Had to find out. They could be so good together, even stronger and more formidable to their enemies.

'Now I'm falling for you and now you've fallen for me
And we're falling so hard that we are head over heels
And I hope we touchdown, but our feet don't hit the ground
I'm falling for you
And now you've fallen for me'

John felt sad that the happy song had drawn to a close, he was eager to see how Sherlock would take this news, he was trying to formulate a plan when the radio stations' DJ started talking in a low soothing tone;

"That was a specially chosen song for a John H. from his best friend; so, John if you're listening; I hope you enjoyed it. Now onto another special song for a young couple sharing a night in –"

John sat in shock, staring at the white radio as if it had just announced that clouds were going to turn green over the UK.

He snapped up his phone and swiftly typed in an unassuming text message.

'How is the case? – J'

Within a minute John had received a reply;

'Dull, solved it 54 minutes ago – SH'

John smiled coyly before deciding to tap another text;

'Nice song – J'

It was over a minute this time before John received his reply;

'Well suited I thought – SH'

'I have. Have you? – J' John replied – his heart hammering against his ribcage, he was glued to his seat; his laptop now closed.

The wait was agonising and the eventual reply found John chewing a fingernail.

'I wrote the song. - SH' John's eyes flew wide at the text he received and he quickly tapped the only thing he could think.

'Come home – J'

The reply came quickly.

'I am home, I have been sitting at the kitchen table for 23 minutes – SH'

John spun his neck around unnaturally to see Sherlock sitting at their small and scratched wooden kitchen table, his posture one of ease; legs crossed delicately with his left hand tapping the tables' surface gently, his coat covered him snugly and his scarf was still wrapped around his neck.

John, with shaking limbs, lifted his laptop to allow him to stand, then he placed it delicately on the abandoned seat. Once he had stood straight once more he looked to the detective.

"You wrote that?" John whispered across the room.

Sherlock stood in one motion, taking his scarf from around his neck he placed it gently on the crowded table, removing his coat to place beside it. He walked towards John slowly removing his leather gloves.

"I did" He said gently, throwing his gloves on top of John's laptop.

"And you know the implications of writing such a song?" John asked his stance remaining Army trademarked as he watched Sherlock carefully with tilted head.

"I do" Sherlock murmured as he had reached his destination; a two inch gap remaining between the two friends.

"Are you going to do something about it?" John asked with a small waver to his question.

"I am" Sherlock whispered as he brought a long fingered hand up to John's face.

John closed his eyes at the touch and unknowingly leaned into Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock smiled a rare and real smile that only seemed to be in use when he was around John, he could smile and laugh without difficulty around John. He was happy when he was with John.

Sherlock leaned down and placed a small but heartfelt kiss on John's cheek, much like he had with Molly Hooper at Christmas time.

When Sherlock had stood straight backed once more, John opened his eyes to gaze up at his flatmate. Sherlock gasped at the sight of John's almost black eyes and quickened heart rate, he braced himself as John reached his arms up and buried his gentle hands into the thick brunette curls atop the detectives' head.

"Thank you" John murmured against Sherlock's lips before he kissed them passionately.

The End