"I'm sorry, John, but I don't think this is working out."

John sadly gazed at Danielle from across the table. Why did this always happen to him?

"But – why? I thought we were getting along great."

Danielle sighed. "You just don't have enough time for me. You're always too busy running after that Sherlock for us to spend any proper time together."

John frowned. "Sherlock's my friend-"

"And I'm supposed to be your girlfriend!"

"Look, I can't just leave Sherlock to solve crimes by himself. He needs me! Just give me another chance; I'll make it up to you…"

Danielle smiled sadly. "Sorry, John," she said, and got up and left the restaurant.

John slammed the door hard as he entered the flat of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock barely glanced up.

"You're back early," he observed.

John did not reply.

Sherlock looked at him sharply. He wasn't generally sensitive to other peoples' feelings, but he had known John for a long enough time and cared about him enough to know when he was upset.

"What happened?" he inquired.

John sighed.

"I've been dumped. Again. That's the third time in two months, Sherlock."

Sherlock frowned. He wanted to make John feel better, but he never knew what to do in these situations.

John sighed. "I really liked her, too. I wish she hadn't left me."

Sherlock got up from his chair, and knelt beside where John was sitting.

"I'm still here. I'm not leaving," he said quietly. He stretched out his arms as though to hug John, but at the last second decided not to and awkwardly patted him on the back instead.

John smiled at him.

"Yeah. Thanks, Sherlock."

A couple of weeks later, John sat beside Sherlock's gravestone.

"You lied," he whispered, before slowly limping away.