By he time they ate dinner the food had gone cold and they had to re-heat it They ate at the table, John in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and Sherlock in nothing but his blue house coat. They shared heated looks across the table, and by the time he'd finished eating John was more than ready for a 'round two'. However, it appeared Sherlock had eaten next to nothing over the past few weeks and John wasn't going to do anything to discourage him from eating now when he was obviously so hungry. He sipped on his wine and waited, but the moment Sherlock swallowed his last bite of stir-fry John was out of his chair.

Sherlock's coat fell off and pooled around his feet when he stood up, and John was just beginning to start taking his shirt off when they heard the doorbell ring. Sherlock barely had enough time to cover himself up before Mycroft strolled into the sitting room. John and Sherlock walked out of the kitchen, and John tried not to laugh at the widening of Mycroft's eyes when he took in their appearances.

"I was hoping you'd be done with ... that, by now." Sherlock pulled his house coat tighter around himself and glared at his brother, though it wasn't very effective considering how red his face was. "It's good to see the novelty of your relationship has yet to wear off."

"Novelty? We've been together for about ten months now."

"Yes, but I know how easy it is for you to become bored."

"What do you want Mycroft?"

"Are you forgetting the entire purpose of your ... trip?"

If looks could kill, the glare Sherlock sent Mycroft would have killed him several times over. His face was still red, but it was purely because of anger, rather than embarrassment. He stalked over to where his suitcases were, still in front of the door, and opened one of them. He rifled through it a bit before holding up a manila envelope. Mycroft took it from his hand and left without another word.

Sherlock remained standing by the door, seething, so John went into the kitchen and started cleaning up their dinner.

"What are you doing?" John glanced at where Sherlock had materialized in the doorway.

"Doing the washing up."

"Why on Earth are you doing that when you could be doing something else?" Sherlock sauntered up up to him and wrapped his arms around John's shoulders. John leaned his head back to rest on Sherlock's shoulder and smiled.

"What, you mean you?" John felt, rather than saw Sherlock shrug.

"Well, to put it crudely, yes." John laughed and turned around to face Sherlock, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"God, I really missed you." Sherlock dipped his head down to nibble at the soft skin of John's earlobe.

"Then prove it."

___________________________________________________________

It would be another two days before either Sherlock or John left the flat. Sherlock had put off notifying Lestrade of his return in favour of spending time with his husband, but eventually both Sherlock and John were itching to get back to work. Their honeymoon officially ended with a quick morning shag, then Sherlock called Lestrade while John took a shower. When he came back into the bedroom to get dressed Sherlock was attempting to put on a shirt and trousers at the same time. He did so with great difficulty, and John fought the urge to laugh at how flushed Sherlock's face was when he turned to him.

"I'm guessing there's a case then?"

"Three men dead so far. All bludgeoned to death and found in alleyways. The third has just been found, Lestrade is still at the crime scene. Let's go!" Sherlock darted out of the room and John followed after him. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone and found Sherlock waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He had a hand on his hip and was rubbing it absentmindedly, his eyes glazed over. John followed the movement of Sherlock's hand with his eyes as he descended the stairs.

"Ready?" He asked. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at him and opened the door.

"What do you mean, 'am I ready'?"

"I mean that, aside from that ordeal in Paris, this is your first real case in weeks. I know you're eager to resume being Sherlock Holmes, world's only consulting detective.

"My name is Sherlock Watson-Holmes now." Sherlock raised his hand. He hailed a cab, smirking over his shoulder at John. "I would have expected you of all people to remember that." A cab pulled up and Sherlock climbed inside. John sighed and climbed in after him.

"Well of course legally I know that's your name. I just assume you would stay Sherlock Holmes professionally. It would be simpler, and you've built up a reputation as-"

"I love being your husband more than I love being Sherlock Holmes." John turned to gape at Sherlock, who offered a small smile in return before turning to stare out the window. John reached over and curled his fingers around Sherlock's chin, turning his head back to kiss him. Sherlock's hand moved to rest on John's knee and his lips parted. John pressed further into the kiss and would have ended up in Sherlock's lap if the cabbie hadn' started to bang on the partition. They separated with a giggle and laughed the rest of the way to the crime scene.

Sherlock got out the moment the cab came to a stop and as usual John was left to pay. When he caught up with Sherlock he was buzzing around the body with his magnifying glass, and everyone was standing around watching him with either disdain or keen interest. Lestrade's facial expression seemed to be a mix between the two. He caught John's eye as he approached and offered a friendly smile. John answered with a smile of his own and came to stand beside him. He crossed his arms and stared down at Sherlock. He was currently on his hands and knees, but his attention didn't seem to be on the corpse. His eyes had a far away look and John noticed he was breathing heavier than usual.

"Sherlock are you alright?"

"What? Yeah. Yes I'm ... fine." Sherlock stood up and began circling the body, and John noticed he seemed to be favoring his right leg.

"Are you alright Freak?" Donovan asked after appearing out of nowhere. "You're walking a bit weird." Sherlock spun around and pinned her with an icy look.

"I've just returned from my two week honeymoon . How do you expect me to be walking?" The look on Donovan's face was priceless, as was Lestrade's. Both looked equal parts shocked and horrified, though it seemed Lestrade was fighting a smile as well. John was sure he was going to burst a blood vessel, whether it be from holding g back his laughter or sheer embarrassment.

Once everyone calmed down a bit John was able to see that Sherlock did appear to be quite uncomfortable and possibly in pain, and the doctor in him took over.

"Are you alright though, Sherlock? It does look like you're limping." Sherlock crossed over to him and shrugged.

"I will say my hip is bothering me some but I'm fine." John noticed the way he emphasized the word, obviously not willing to leave due to such a pedestian injury. John knew Sherlock would hate him for it, but he couldn't let him hobble around a crime scene.

"Come on, let's get you home to rest that hip."

"John I'm-"

"Home. Now." Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John, but he held his ground and stood as tall as his 5'6" frame would allow him. Lestrade, Donovan, and the rest of the Scotland Yard workers looked on curiously at the couple, and John felt his face heat from the intensity of their stares. eventually Sherlock's shoulders slumped and he nodded his head.

"Alright," he said, "You win." John smiled, and Sherlock turned to Lestrade. "Just because John is making me go home and rest does not mean you can take me off this case. I expect for you to notify me of any developments and trust that I will be in contact the moment John gives the okay for me to leave home." John reached out and placed a hand on Sherlock's' shoulder, gently steering him away from the crime scene. As he turned to begin walking away, John saw Donovan nudge Anderson in the side.

"So demanding," she said just loud enough for everyone around them to hear, including John and Sherlock. John turned and glanced over his shoulder at Donovan, who was grinning maliciously at Sherlock. "Going by his brash personality and ... this... " She held a hand out towards Sherlock's injured hip. "It kind of makes you wonder just what he's like in bed." Both John and Sherlock spun around to face her with identical expressions of shock and disgust, and when John felt Sherlock tense up beside him he grabbed his arm and brought it across his own shoulders.

"Just for the record, Sally," he said, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's waist and pulling him close. "He's fucking fantastic."

Now it was Donovan's turn to gape as John and Sherlock walked away. Once they'd gotten a significant distance away from the crime scene, John felt Sherlock's head on his shoulder and he paused.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, John." Sherlock tightened his hold on John and nestled further into him, breathing deeply. "I just ... thank you." John brought his other arm around Sherlock and pulled him into a quick hug.

"Any time."

They soon returned to Baker Street, where John gave Sherlock's hip a proper evaluation. After deciding that nothing had been torn, John instructed Sherlock to remain in bed and he served as his personal doctor for the next few days, icing his hip, bringing him pain medication, and doing anything else Sherlock might require. In less than a week Sherlock was fully recovered, just in time to join Lestrade and company on what were basically door to door interrogations.

Thanks to Sherlock, Lestrade and his team had managed to create a triangular location of where they could possibly find the killer, using the locations of where the bodies had been found. With no other leads, they were forced to simply go door to door and ask the residents of that area if they had any information that could help, and hopefully they would be one step closer to finding their killer.

John remained in the background and silently observed while Sherlock and Lestrade questioned each resident, taking notes in his journal of anything that might be of use later, whether it be for solving the case or spicing up the blog entry he would write on it. After almost an hour of questioning it was starting to look like their efforts would be fruitless, but they pressed on, nearing desperation to find some sort of lead.

John noticed Sherlock pounding on the door with more force than was warranted, but fought the urge to comment on it. Sherlock was already tense enough; John didn't want to add to his discomfort.

The door opened and a burly man stepped into the light. John watched Sherlock's eyes scanned over the man, obviously deducing. His eyebrows rose suddenly and John noticed his eyes take on an almost predatory look, but thankfully, he kept whatever it was he had seen to warrant such a response to himself. The man's eyes drifted from John, to Lestrade, to Sherlock, and briefly back to John before settling on Sherlock.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice surprisingly pleasant considering his appearance. Sherlock and Lestrade exchanged a glance before Lestrade stepped back, allowing Sherlock to take over the questioning this time. Sherlock took a step closer to John before he began speaking.

"Hello, what is your name sir?"

"Rodney. Rodney Douglas."

"Well, Rodney, we're investigating a series of murders that have taken place near here. As a means of gathering information we're going around asking the residents-"

"Oh I don't live here," the man said. "This is my girlfriend's house."

"Girlfriend?" Sherlock asked, incredulous. "Really?" As soon as the words left Sherlock's lips the man was visibly upset, and John couldn't' blame him. Sure, this man probably wasn't the textbook definition of attractive, but that was no excuse for Sherlock's disbelief.

"Yes, really," the man said through clenched teeth. John saw the clenching of the man's jaw and the way his hands were balling into fists, and took a step closer to Sherlock, laying a hand at the small of his back.

"Is your girlfriend home? We'd like to speak with her."

"No, she's not home. And even if she was I wouldn't let her talk to you freaks." With that he shut the door rather forcefully, leaving the three of them standing on the front step. John moved his hand from Sherlock's back to his hip and gave a slight squeeze, and Sherlock leaned into the touch.

"Well," Lestrade said, turning around. "He seems like quite the character." Sherlock and John nodded their heads in synchronization.

"Yes, yes." Sherlock sighed and stepped away from John, turning to walk away from the house. "Wouldn't be surprised if we saw him again though ... perhaps in the midst of a domestic violence investigation."

"Really?" John asked.

"Of course. You saw how he got when his girlfriend was mentioned."

"Maybe he reacted the way you did because you made it seem as if it was completely unbelievable that he is unable to obtain a girlfriend in the first place."

"Well, that is true. But did you see him? Almost everything about him screams homosexual. Not bi, completely gay."

"And just how did you come up with that deduction?" Lestrade asked as they walked to the next house.

"Well there was the fact that his voice was significantly higher than you'd expect from someone of his stature. That tends to be common among gay men, though I haven't the slightest idea why. Then there was the underwear."

"Sorry, his underwear?"

"Yes, it was visible above the waistline. Very particular brand. Then there's the excessive personal grooming. His eyebrows had been recently threaded, his hair was dyed and shows signs of having been dyed in the past. There was clear evidence that he uses quite a lot of product in his hair."

"And?" John asked, taking a step forward. "I use product in my hair."

"Seeing as how you're currently married to a man, John, I don't think your argument is extremely valid." John opened his mouth to retort but snapped it shut when he realized there was absolutely nothing he could say to that. Lestrade stifled a laugh, and John glared at him. Sherlock smirked, then took in a deep breath and continued with the rest of his deductions.

"He also seemed to really enjoy your ... appearance John. Speaking from personal experience you are a very attractive man to people of all genders." John bit his bottom lip and nodded his head, staring down at his feet.

"Right, well, thanks I guess."

"Of course, darling." John looked up in time to catch Sherlock's smirk before he turned to Lestrade. "Let's go ahead and get this over with. We've still got several more houses." John gave a curt nod, then reached out and grabbed Sherlock's hand, lacing their fingers together. Sherlock showed now outward signs of having noticed this, but John felt the slight squeeze he gave as they walked to the next house.

It wouldn't be until several days later that another lead for the case was uncovered. John had been trying to convince Sherlock not to shoot holes in the walls when Lestrade had called. Sherlock dropped the gun he had been wrestling John over and ran to his phone, holding the phone to his ear and answering with a breathy hello.

John went to hide the gun, though he knew Sherlock would be able to find it in mere minutes when he did decide to shoot the walls again. When John came back into the sitting room Sherlock was waiting for him, already dressed in his coat and scarf.

"They've found another body."

"That's great," John murmured, crossing the room to retrieve his coat and phone. "Same as the rest?"

"No," Sherlock said with a smile. John finished putting his coat on and stared up at him.

"I don't understand."

"The body of a young woman was found, believed to have died several days ago. Strangled, left in a ditch of all places. Absolutely nothing like the rest of the victims in any way."

"Alright," John said, because he could see the way Sherlock was practically buzzing with excitement. "What's so special about her then?"

"She just happens to be the girlfriend of a Mister Rodney Douglas."

___________________________________________________________

Okay let me just say how sorry I am for not updating last week. I'm in my final month of school before graduating and things are pretty hectic right now, plus I'm still getting some university stuff settled and I've had some serious writer's block lately. Still, I'll try to have something out next week because you guys are so amazing and you deserve new chapters on time. Sorry again!

(Also sorry for any mistakes you found. I kinda rushed through with the editing cause I just wanted to get this posted.)