A/N: An epilogue for y'all. The last Wednesday.

Sherlock kept bouncing on the elevator, just like he had bouncing all damn day.

"Calm down," John hissed so none of the people riding in front of them would hear.

"I can't John," he spat back. "I'm too wound up for this."

The elevator stopped and someone got off. Sherlock breathed a bit easier.

"Are you getting claustrophobic?" John asked.

"Don't be ridiculous, John. There are twelve other people in close proximity to us in this elevator. It's too much right now." He stopped bouncing and tapped his fingers on the bar he was in front of, clearly impatient to get this encounter over with.

Sherlock's annoyance was clearly rubbing off on the other passengers. Some were turning around and glaring, others sighing in a long-suffering manner that only John was allowed to sigh in, and a few were clearing their throats loudly. Whether this made Sherlock want to be consciously more annoying or it was just winding him up tighter made him bounce a bit more violently and click his teeth together.

John leaned forward and punched the button for the next floor. "Let's go. We're taking the stairs."

Sherlock followed him out, and John pulled him into the stairwell.

"John, I don't see why this was necessa-" Sherlock began to protest, but was cut off by John's lips slamming against his. The kiss wasn't obscene, and anyone in the stairs would think that it was two lovers saying goodbye after lunch rather than one lover trying to ground the other.

John pulled away after about fifteen seconds, but kept his grip on Sherlock's waist tight. "Relax, you moron. I'm right here. Nothing he says or does is going to drive me away."

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John. "I hate him so much."

"I know." John rubbed his back lightly. "But once we get this we're done with him. We never have to see him again."

Sherlock sighed and some of the tension fell away. John linked their hands and pulled him back out to the area where the elevators were.

"I thought we were taking the stairs."

"Up another fifty flights? No, Sherlock, I am no longer Army-fit, and I don't want to arrive up there all sweaty and disheveled."

They held hands up the elevator and Sherlock was surprised to find that he couldn't pull his hand away when the doors opened.

"What are you doing?"

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" John asked.

"No, but-"

"Then don't let go."

"John-"

"Don't. Let. Go," John whispered. He then Sherlock to Sebastian's secretary, and they were ushered into his office.

Seb was obviously surprised to see the two of them holding hands, but he covered it up by pulling out his company checkbook and saying, "Thanks for your work. What do I need to do to prevent this from happening again?"

"Install locks on your windows, or better yet, seal them off so no one can take a swan dive off of this or any floor," Sherlock said smugly.

Seb's face fell. "What?"

"They climbed up, Sebastian. A group of Chinese smugglers disguised as a circus act climbed up and spray painted that message to van Coon in the office. I would just seal off the windows and your problem will be solved."

Seb scowled as Sherlock continued to subtly tell him what an idiot he was being. When he ripped out the check, Seb said, "You know, if you ever wanted to go back to doing some of the work that you used to do for me and actually get paid this time, I can start you off at a rate of at least that much each week. I could use you around here. I can't trust anyone."

"What makes you think you'd be able to trust me?" Sherlock asked.

"I know what to do to control you, Sherlock Holmes." Seb turned to address John. "Has he ever told you about his past? The things he did in uni, and the way he fell afterwards. It was almost sad. I would be glad to tell you about it sometime so you can know just who your boyfriend is."

"As a matter of fact, I know all about that," John said.

"The drugs as well? Surely an upstanding citizen such as yourself would object to that. How do know he isn't still using?"

John chuckled and leaned forward onto Seb's desk. "Watch yourself, Sebastian. I've killed men for lesser reasons than harassing my boyfriend."

Seb froze. "I could call security on you."

"You won't, though," John said. "We can prove everything that you did to Sherlock while you were at uni was your fault, even though you didn't get caught. You could go to prison for a very long time for that."

The two of them stared at each other for about twenty seconds until Seb pulled back and looked to Sherlock, handing the check to him.

"Have a nice life, Sebastian," Sherlock said, gently taking John's hand and leading him out of the office and back to the elevators.

Neither of them spoke on the way back to Baker Street, but once they got into the door of 221B, Sherlock pushed John up against the wall and hugged him.

"Thank you for standing up for me. No one has ever done that for me before."

John gripped him tighter. "I hope you know that I'm going to continue to stand up for you. You don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Let's drop this check off upstairs and then go for dinner," Sherlock said. "I want to go on a date."

"A date where we track down a potentially dangerous killer?" John asked warily.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "No, one of your boring ones. Dinner, a walk, though I refuse to go to the cinema, John. You can't make me."

"No cinema," John laughed. "Come on, let's get moving."

"Yes, let's," Sherlock replied, but he made no moves to leave. John didn't either, but he did whisper, "I love you," into Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock didn't say anything. He simply buried his face into John's neck and hugged John tighter. They stood there for a long time just like that until Mrs. Hudson came into the hallway and said, "Oh, boys! Don't let me interrupt, but try to keep it behind closed doors. You're going to give me a heart attack one day!"

"Sorry Mrs. Hudson," they both muttered.

"It's alright, loves. It just warms my heart to see you two so happy. I'll see you later."

John could feel Sherlock grinning into his neck, and he couldn't help smiling as well. "Come on," he said to Sherlock. "Let's go to dinner and show people just how disgustingly happy we areā€¦"

A/N: That's all, folks! Many thanks to everyone who has read this, and a thousand virtual hugs to those who have given me support through kudos, reviews, and especially that little stretch about sexual attraction.

A quick note on my stories: I am on hiatus. I'm back at school now, and I'm about to write a bachelor's essay on top of having an 18 hour course load. As much as I would love to keep writing through this, I don't have a whole lot of time. I really don't like publishing stories until I'm done because I like having the freedom to edit them and move stuff around (if it give you any idea, I spent two months writing this in the late spring and early summer because I changed so much). There is the potential for me to publish a totally plotless (read: smut on smut on smut) story at random, lengthy intervals. Let me know if any of y'all would like that. Other than that, updates will be rare, if not nonexistent.

That being said, I promise to write over the break I have after midterms and my winter break. I will still be reading stories in a limited capacity, so if you have something that you would like me read, don't hesitate to leave a comment so I know to look for it. I love you all very much, and I hope to be in touch again very soon.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo,
ClassyGirlsWearPearls