"Remind me again." Sherlock muttered darkly. "Why we have to be here? I thought we were fixed now." He grumbled, slinging himself onto the therapy sofa in a huff. Claire was late and that was unprecedented - John thought back to her fleeing the previous session in panic and immediately he worried about her son. The receptionist had let them into the office and Sherlock had instantly entered the strop he'd been threatening to go into since John had insisted they attend one more session.
"I told you, if it were as easy as calling Claire up and telling her we're 'fixed' we could have done that from the start. If you want Lestrade to let us back on crime scenes we're going to have to prove it to Claire." John lifted Sherlock's legs and nudged them to one side so that he could sit down as well. As soon as John was seated Sherlock stretched his legs back out again, his ankles on John's lap.
"Fine." Sherlock grumbled. "But you owe me."
"I owe you nothing," John argued, squeezing Sherlock's foot gently. "But I'll give you it anyway." He shot Sherlock a light smile but the detective still sulked. He hated therapy, he despised having to talk and discuss the parts of his mind that were conventionally wrong, he loathed plundering into the depths of the heart he'd never truly believed he had. The whole situation was insane and he would be glad to be rid of it.

"What exactly will you be giving me?" Sherlock prompted.
"I'm not seducing you in the therapist's office." John chuckled softly. His stamina wasn't what it used to be but he was more than happy to be in the early stages of a physical relationship - the bit where they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Without any cases on, Sherlock's boredom seemed to manifest in the form of his libido, in fact in the week since they'd started this they'd not only managed to have sex in every room in their flat but had also christened nearly every horizontal surface 221b had to offer and a couple of the vertical ones. Sherlock's decision to ambush John on the staircase three days ago had left John with a bad back and had lead Sherlock to the realisation that he could apologise for just about anything (including sex induced injuries) with a blow job.
"Fine, but the minute we're out of this office, you're making it up to me."
"The minute?" John teased, trying his best not to think about it, it would do him no good to get hard here and now where they couldn't do anything about it.
"The minute." Sherlock promised in a voice a shade or two deeper than his regular tone and the only thing that stopped John's very vivid fantasy of sex with Sherlock over the receptionist's desk was the door opening.

Claire shuffled in, her blonde hair was not as neat as it usually was, and there was a small coffee stain on her blouse. Sherlock mentally noted that she'd been spending most of her time in the hospital, by her child's bed.
"How's your son?" John asked immediately. She looked slightly startled.
"Oh uhm... yes he's fine." She said, slipping into her chair and fluttering through her notes distractedly. "Broken leg and crushed pelvis, but there shouldn't be any permanent damage." She mumbled.
"Did they catch the driver?" Sherlock queried, quite calmly from his laid back position on the sofa.
"No, not yet." She dismissed vaguely. "Sorry about abandoning the previous session, personal problems as you apparently know. Anyway today I was hoping to discuss..."
"Actually there's something we'd like to discuss." Sherlock interjected. Content that Claire was not about to have an emotional breakdown over the condition her son was in, Sherlock thought now was as good a time as any.

John was fighting to suppress a smirk, because he knew that Sherlock would not do subtle. He was a man who took pride in things and for some mad reason he'd chosen to be proud of John Watson - Sherlock was bound to show him off. Sure enough Sherlock shuffled up into a sitting position, shot Claire a challenging look somewhere along the lines of 'watch this' before dragging John into a deep and messy kiss. John did not pull away, he'd never really been one for massive displays of PDA but he appreciated that this was all very new for the detective, that he wanted the world to see. He kissed back, but with a little less intensity than he would have done if they were in private. John pulled back with great reluctance, he'd spent far too much of his life not being acquainted with Sherlock's lips and it was a dizzying addiction but there was a fine line between showing off and 'inciting a public nuisance'.
"Well..." Claire said, mildly shocked but not entirely surprised. Sherlock had not taken his gaze from John's eyes, still temptingly close. John's tongue darted out and wet his own bottom lip instinctively, pinned by Sherlock's 'come to bed' stare. He'd be forgiven for forgetting Claire was even in the room.
"We won't be requiring your services any more Ms Sharpe." He said lowly. "And would appreciate you sending Lestrade an email to that affect."

"I don't know about that, this is obviously a positive step but there's going to be huge changes to deal with and there's obviously a lot to talk about."
"There's really not." John grinned, coming to his senses and nudging Sherlock back into his own seat. The mad bastard coul wait just a little longer. "Yeah there's going to be changes but... we can handle those ourselves. We're good. Honestly." He reassured the therapist, who looked uncertain.
"There's nothing left here for you to diagnose or determine - I suggest you sign us off willingly." Sherlock said with an almost wicked grin. "Or I'm sure I could make things very awkward by inventing a whole host of psychological and sexual maladies for myself, to give us something to do." Claire smirked.
"You two really are good, aren't you."
"Believe me he'll do it." John warned. "He ran a few by me this morning - I never want to hear his brother's name in the bedroom ever again."
"Noted." Sherlock nodded at John before turning back to Claire.
"Very well then, my door's always open if you need a top up session but I get the feeling that won't be necessary. You're a very... interesting couple." She smiled and offered them her hand. Sherlock stood up and took it, shaking it curtly. John followed suit.

He caught his foot on the rug, and didn't have time to appreciate the irony of it as he was falling to the ground with great speed. He braced himself to hit the ground and found himself jerked up by two strong hands. Despite being completely unprepared and offgaurd - Sherlock had caught him.
"There's your trust exercise." John mumbled, embarrassed to have been captured like a swooning maiden. Sherlock's surprised look was enough of a comfort though - he hadn't stopped John from falling out of trust or power, he'd caught him out of instinct. Some part of him knew he could never let John be hurt again and that was the driving reasoning behind the catch. He took comfort in the fact John was of the same mentality. Slowly he pulled John back to his feet and draped an arm around his waist while John took Claire's hand and thanked her.

As they were leaving her office, Claire did not fail to notice Sherlock's hand slide down to cup John's arse. He leaned down to whisper something in John's ear and instead of turning left towards the exit they both turned right towards the bathrooms. She shook her head in amusement, choosing not to deny them their honeymoon period as they weren't her problem anymore, Claire booted up the computer and began typing out an email to Greg Lestrade, hesitating on her phrasing.

"Greg,
The relationship between Sherlock and John has now improved to the point of returning to work at Scotland Yard. I can't say much more on grounds of patient confidentiality but I will say you were right and I'll wish you good luck. You're going to need it!
Claire."

A/n: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. THIS STORY IS NOW COMPLETE. Hope you enjoyed the fic. Huge thanks to BenedictCumberbatchRuinedMe for being unbelievably patient throughout all this.

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