Later that night

Soft crackling filled the room as the fire lit the area in a soft, warm glow, flickering as the breeze blew in through the slightly cracked window. The coffee table was pushed closer to the fire so the files strewn about it could be seen in the dark night. A bottle of whiskey lay empty on the carpet and two glasses sideways on the table.

Both boys were a little tipsy as they giggled about John's little hiccup. They watched as the flames licked the logs which melted away to nothing but ash. The warmth washed over the two, leaving them in a peaceful silence, enjoying the other's company.

Slowly starting to drift off, Sherlock noticed a glimmering heart-shaped locket on her neck that wasn't there at the start. Slamming his hand down and startling a sleeping John, he gathered the files and his phone.

John watched, a bemused expression gracing his tired features, as the lithe man slipped on his navy blue coat. Studying the files he had just been given, he notice the locket around her neck and quickly followed Sherlock out into the oddly warm winter night.

Hailing a cab proved to be more difficult a task than usual. Sliding into the sleek black cab, Sherlock told the cabbie where to go. Ringing resounded throughout the vehicle as he waited for a voice on the other end.

At last when the ringing stopped and a voice answered on the other end, he knew where they were headed. Slightly angry, Molly awaited there arrival and showed them into the morgue. Studying the female, Sherlock noticed nothing different aside from the locket.

Silently, he slipped it over her head, twisting it in his fingers, before deciding he needed to analyze it closer. "I'm taking this."he replied, noting her confused expression. Nodding slightly, she showed them out.

The slight pitter patter of rain catching the boys off guard for it had been really warm only a few minutes ago. They slid into another cab, John wondering why they couldn't have waited until tomorrow.

Reading his mind as usual, Sherlock replied. "I would have forgotten that I saw it." Chuckling, John leaned into Sherlock. Upon arriving at their flat, John noticed a figure sitting on the front step.

"Molly and I ended our relationship just before she left. We were just awkward and she likes another person. Anyway, I need a place to stay, can I stay here?" he asked. Looking over to Sherlock to make sure he was okay with it, John nodded.

"Stay in my old room." Showing him to the room, John found Mycroft sitting on his bed.

"I didn't expect you'd have a guest." he mumbled, eyeing Lestrade quickly. Lestrade didn't seem to notice but it was noticed by John. "You probably wouldn't like Sherlock's violin playing at 2:30 in the morning."

"Well, I've no where else to go so I'll have to get used to it."

"There's always a place at my manison." Mycroft suggested. John's brows furrowed in confusion. Mycroft never showed kindness to anyone.

"Are you being serious right now?" Lestrade asked just as confused, if not more so, as John.

"Of course. When do I ever joke?"

Leaving the boys to themselves, John walked downstairs, snickering to himself. They didn't know it yet but they were perfect for each other. Lestrade would help him become a better person. More loving, more kind but, Mycroft changes Lestrade too.

He challenges and surprises him. He makes him question his life, wonder if he's truly happy where he is. When he was with Molly, it was different, it was pure and will always be good for him but it isn't what he truly wants. He wants someone who can surprise him and make him smile at the worst of times.

They deserved to be together and happy and it's either the best thing for the both of them or the worst.

John shook his head amazed at how well they would work for each other. John slipped into his shared room with Sherlock and smiled in amusement when he heard the shower running. Mycroft was right when they first met... he missed the war but it wasn't necessarily the war he missed but it was the adrenaline, the rush, the mystery behind everything.

He was glad he stumbled into Sherlock's mysterious life as a consulting detective. He couldn't imagine where he'd be right now if he hadn't bumped into Mike that day because it wouldn't be here, comfortable, with the man he loved.

Sherlock stepped out of their bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He smiled at John, his blue eyes glittering in the lamplight, as he slowly got dressed. He was being a tease and John knew he was doing it on purpose.

He turned to find John smiling widely and when he asked why John just smiled even wider. Sherlock stood on his side of the bed and John grabbed his waist pulling him down into the bed with him.

This was the man he loved and cared about. He looked down at Sherlock, running his fingers through his curls and John knew, he was exactly like Lestrade. He wanted the danger and the man in from of him, the one who he has been through a lot with, was able to give him the life that he so desperately craved and he couldn't be happier.

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NOTE: Hey guys so I know it was kind of weird to be reading a first person pov fic and have a third person pov in there but I wanted to try it out. Please tell me which one you like more. Thanks-Captain