A man opens the door. He isn't who I look for. Did I make a mistake in the house number? I look at my sheet. This is the right house.

"I am sorry. I... I... Bye." I turn around and look at the street. The man hasn't still closed the door. I start to panic.

"Are you OK? A doctor lives here. I'll get him." The door is still open and he walks to the stairway.

"John? You want to come for a second?" He calls loud. My pupils magnify. The John?

"What's up?" He says walking down the stairs. With quiet steps, he is walking down the stairs. He wears a dressing gown and he looks tired. His eyes wander quietly to the doorway, where I am. "I see." He responds. His voice is anxious, but while very happy. He is sad, because he left me. "I'll be right back." He quickly walks up the stairs. Within minutes he is already downstairs and dressed.

"Maybe you can outside." John's roommate suggests.

***

"It will be difficult. I couldn't leave the house, you said." I react hypocritical.

"Go." He recommends. I calmly hit the door, but now I see I do not have the key. I do not care. Sherlock is here.

"Hai, Sherlock." I look at my shoes. It's hard to look at him. Because I feel guilty.

"Hai, John. I think we have to talk." He answers quietly. I like he special come to me. He has extreme agoraphobia, but he takes the risk for me. I cause this...

"I agree."

"How do you start such a conversation, John?" He asks anxious.

"I'll start." I reassure him. "I'm sorry. Running away was stupid. I thought, I got in the way. Sherlock, you have feelings for me and you cannot organize it. If I am not with you, then you can localize upon your cases."

"I don't want to localize upon case, but upon you. Yesterday was violent, in the good way. I've never felt that good with a stranger. It's hard to say, but when we held each other's hands... I liked it.' He raises his hand and he takes mine. "You don't have problems with this?" He asks to be sure. His hand is warm and his fingers are rubbing my hand.

Now I hold his hand, with my both hands. We are inches away of each other. The lamppost let his shadow fall on me. I look deep into his eyes like he does. He strokes his thumb over my hand.

"I like it." I finally say. But he has probably noticed already.

"So..." He doubts. "Do you feel like to go and eat somewhere with me?" He pulls me closer to him and he embraces me. This time I don't get into shock and I like it.

"I've got a better idea." I cheer. "We'll cook together." He raises his eyebrows.

"Cooking?"

"You will like it." I suppose. He laughs and he lets me go.

"Shall we go home?" He asks politely. Hand in hand we are capering to his house.

***

"We can cook something with the avocado's." John says when he looks at the avocado's. I take a seat and listen to his ideas. He easily wants to visit the shop, but then I have to set the table.

"Everything is fine for me, but no grapes." I role my eyes and he laughs.

"That grape-joke is so outdated." He laughs overly loud and he sits next to me.

"You broach the subject!" I put my hand on the table and he lays his hand on mine. He intertwines his fingers into mine and he looks at me.

"Maybe we should skip dinner." He devises.

***

We laughed all night and above all we laughed at me, my silly antics and my potato compulsion. He just cannot understand I like to eat raw potato's. I gave him violin lessons and he already can play two chords. We played Doctor Bibber and he won. He diverted me with his shouts. We are still playing.

"What time is it already?" He asks when we are already laughing a few hours. I look at my watch.

"3 am." I giggle.

"Well, it becomes a habit. Are you tired?" He asks.

"No, I'm never tired." I overdo. At most I am once a week tired and that happens when I didn't smoke.

"What are we going to do now?" I stand up and pull him to me.

"I feel like... a walk." I pull over his jacket and I do not give him a chance to answer.

It's pitch-dark and we are walking in a noiseless street. You can hear the leaves are rolling on the ground.

"It will soon be Christmas. We celebrate it together?" John asks. He looks at me thinking face.

"You will have to, because... You move in with me." I decide. He laughs and he nods.

"With pleasure." He holds my hand and we walk together out of Baker Street.

Until eight we were in the park. Silently and now and then we laughs, because it was so quiet. We were not close to each other. We both were sitting on the end of the bench. In this way we had a good oversight over each other. The large moon lighted up our bench, until the sun roused. We saw the sun appears above the buildings. We ended our day with a swim in the lake:

"Lovely." He sighs. "Illegal, right?"

"Don't worry." He deems. My brother regulates. He hates me, but he can't handle it when I am in the paper like a bad man. We are after all family and the ministry would not like to hear it.

"I go out of the water." John gets out and he puts on his jacket. Who had the idea to swim while we are still wearing our clothes? We will die when we walk on the go, because no cabdriver will take us. I swim a bit and then I walk out soggy. The droplets slide off my hair. I pull my socks off and pull my shoes on. He passes my coat. As a penguin I walk home and he helps me, because he is accustomed to this wet doings.

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'Penguin' ; real Cumberbitches understand this :)