It was a Friday evening, or night. John Watson and Greg Lestrade were in a pub complaining to each other about one Sherlock Holmes. And as there is no way you could go to a pub without drinking, they had long forgotten about time.

"Now," the gray-haired detective inspector said, "When are you going to give some details about your relationship with Sherlock. I've heard you complaining about him all night, but there must be something good as well. Why else would you stay?"

The doctor shook his head. "I'm not gay! And I'm most definitely not in a relationship with Sherlock!" John growled. "How many times do I have to repeat myself before anyone believes me? Why can't you listen when I say that I'm not in love with him and he's not in love with me? We're friends, and that's hard enough sometimes."

Placing his drink on the bar, Greg sat still. "I'm sorry. I should have known that. After all who would want to be together with Sherlock?" He chuckled, looking over to John. "He's rude, selfish; too thin to be healthy. He doesn't have any social skills and won't even pretend he isn't any of the aforementioned things. You're right, of course you're not together; there is nothing loveable about him."

"Now, wait just a minute." John spoke loudly. The beer made it so much easier to defend his best friend; even if his speech was a little slurred. "He isn't selfish at all. He helps you, doesn't he? And so what if he only does it because he likes it? He still h-helps. He could have just chosen to become a criminal mastermind, like Moriarty, but he chose to be on our side. That's something you should be very grateful for! And he's only rude to people who deserve it. If you would all be a little more tolerant, he wouldn't have to be like that! But you all chose to laugh at him or snarl at him for every move he makes. Call someone a freak often enough and they start to believe it and act like it!

"And who cares that he hasn't been blessed with amazing social skills. We all have faults, don't we? People always say that you should take someone as they are. So why doesn't it count for Sherlock? I took the time to really get to know him and you know what? I've found him to be the most beautiful and loveable person I know. I couldn't stand it to be separated with him ever again. He is my gravity to realism!"

John ended his speech, gasping for air, but proud of his words. That is, until he saw Greg laughing over his pint. "What?" John asked in indignation.

"You still claim you're not in love with him?" Lestrade began, looking over at the doctor with warm, but amused eyes.

"…Yes." John said warily.

"Even though you find him the most beautiful and loveable person in the entire world?"

Blinking, the doctor started. "Y-yes."

"And you never want to be separated with him ever again."

"Yes?"

"He's your gravity to realism?" Greg snorted out loud, looking Doctor Watson up and down.

John's eyes narrowed. "Oh, shut up."

"If you admit you're secretly in love with Sherlock." The inspector shot back, his eyes practically sparkling with mirth. After a long, drawn out pause, the doctor sat back in his seat, his fingers milling over the handle of his pint.

He sighed, his shoulders dropping. "…Fine. So I may have a little crush on him." He admitted reluctantly. "But so what? It's not like he's ever going to feel the same way about me."

Greg smiled mischievously. He was pretty good at his own deductions, if he did say so himself. He had known this was going on in John since…a little after he'd first met the bloke actually. He placed an elbow on the table, looking over at the doctor. "You never know. You could always make him fall in love with you."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, seduce him." He said simply, as if it was nothing.

John spitted out the sip of beer he had just taken. "Excuse me?"

"You know, flirt with him and stuff."

John Watson's mouth dropped open and he looked at the man in shock, shaking his head. He could not believe Greg had just suggested that. "He would know what I was doing, while I was even thinking whether or not I would be doing it!"

Rolling his eyes, the inspector took a sip of his own beer, waving a hand. "I bet he won't notice it until someone tells him what you're doing. He will of course notice the changes, but he won't be able to make one and one two."

"Really?" John said in amusement, raising his eyebrows. "You're going to make a bet out of Sherlock's reaction if I would seduce him, when I'm not even going to do it?"

"Sure you are." He replied instantly, having expected the answer. "Not that the idea there may be hope, has settled in your head, you're not going to be able to forget about it until you try. No way are you going to let this chance of happiness slip."

Once again, John fell silent. Then he spoke. "You're right," John sighed "I just wished you weren't."

Lestrade's smile expanded to a grin, and he hit the table with his hand as he stood. "That's the price you'll have to pay. Good luck mate." And with a final pet on John's back, Greg dropped his money on the bar and left, leaving John able to make his plan.