The massively overdue conclusion...

The night was cold but John did not go back to collect the coat he had neglected to grab when he stormed out. Instead he allowed the light rain that was drizzling London to drench into his shirt. His blood felt like it was on fire. Through everything he had thought Sherlock at least cared something for him. As it turned out though, he was just a roommate to the man he had assisting and admiring.

He had enjoyed the adventures they had been on, and even though Sherlock was not always the most agreeable of companions, John had seen him as a friend. Apparently that was not a mutual view.

It was several blocks before John finally decided to hail a cab. It was several more minutes before an empty one came by for him. He gave the address and sat staring out at the blurry London that was going by. He was unable to decide what he would do from here. He didn't want to go back to being on his own. Part of him wondered if it might be better though. The thrill of the cases would be hard not to miss if he parted ways.

Or maybe he should just stop seeing Holmes as a friend rather than as a roommate and something to blog about. If nothing else, their adventures gave him writing fodder.

John came back into the flat to see Sherlock lying on the couch with a distant look in his eyes. He sighed as he decided to go to his own room when Sherlock looked over at the open door suddenly

Their eyes locked. John looked away and clenched his jaw, turning away to leave.

"Will you allow me to explain?" Sherlock asked.

"I think you did that already." John hissed, whirling back around. Sherlock was now on his feet beside the couch, looking surprisingly apologetic. His dark striped dressing gown was hanging loosely about him, the strap beginning to work itself out of the knot. The hair was in that slightly ruffled state that it always seemed to be in. But the face looked different, somewhat downcast.

"If I had been considered emotionally compromised, I would not have Lestrade's cooperation and might not have a chance to pursue anyone who would harm you." Sherlock forged on without waiting for permission.

John fell silent and stared at him.

"I might not have my chance at revenge." Sherlock finished.

This made the retired army surgeon pause as he thought through the words. He realized how much they rang of the truth. There was a look in Sherlock's eyes that told John this was not some excuse. It was the truth.

"I do not just see you as a roommate." Sherlock admitted.

John sighed and looked down. "I… I'm sorry Sherlock, I assumed… I assumed what you told Lestrade was true."

Sherlock smiled. "Well, at least I sounded good enough to convince you. I didn't think I did."

John chuckled and they both broke out into smiles. Then John got a thoughtful look.

"You said something about revenge?" He hinted.

Sherlock gave him a curious look. "Indeed…"

"Well, what did you have in mind for my 'tormentors'?" John asked, wiggling his fingers in the air as he said the last word to signify the quotation marks.

Sherlock's smile became devious. "Well now…"

Donovan arrived in the office late the next morning yawning off the drowsiness that was still heavy. She hadn't gotten home until late the night before with the party going on, so she felt entitled to sleep in a little.

Upon reaching her office however, she had to blink several times to believe she wasn't still dreaming. Everything within had been completely taped with clear packing tape.

"Of all the bloody - !" She cried, bringing a few curious looks from her co-workers. Throwing her bag down inside the door with a huff she stormed off to Lestrade's office. There she found Anderson looking like he was in the middle of a heated conversation with the inspector.

"You let them destroy my office?" Anderson asked.

"Wait, your office was messed up too?" Donovan asked, gaping.

Lestrade smiled at them both. "Well, Sherlock and John stopped by earlier and said they wanted to repay your little trick last night and frankly… I'm not one to stand in the way of justice." He said with a smirk. "Oh, and I expect your reports on my desk by the end of the day."

Growling and muttering curses, Anderson and Donovan turned to get to work as John and Sherlock peeked out from behind the cubicles, grinning broadly. Sherlock turned to touch his fingers to his forehead in a salute at Lestrade, who returned the gesture, chuckling as he watched the two friends turn to leave.