My first attempt at Sherlock fanfiction. Hope you like it. :)

"What about you then? Where are you actually going now?"

He knew he was staring. Drinking in the sight of his dear blogger in a way that he hadn't dared to since his return. He tried to ignore the pain that shot up from his heart into his limbs, almost paralysing.

He could liken it to a bullet ripping through his flesh, only the bullet was far less painful, far less fatal.

He had said that the game was never over, but perhaps he was wrong. For how could he continue to battle dragons now? Where would he get the courage to hold on and ride out the storm that was to come for him in the east?

Would the knowledge that John Watson was safe be enough? Would it help him last all of 182 days? Would it give him peace – in the end?

He hoped so, that was the plan anyway. To sear John Watson's imagine into his memory and with the whisper of "John Watson is safe" breath out for the last time.

"Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe."

He kept his voice light, corners of his mouth forcibly turned up. He knew his acting skills were not serving him very well in conveying his calmness and anticipation of his new "adventure" but he had to try. For John.

"For how long?"

"Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong."

For John!

"And then what?"

Only John wasn't fooled. Of course he wasn't. How could he have been when this situation was eerily similar to the one on the rooftop of Bart's.

"Who knows?"

Isn't this what people do? Leave a note…

Only now, John Watson was safe. He would be fine. In a few months he would be happier than ever.

But Sherlock wanted at least one more smile, just one more only for him.

John Watson is safe.

"John, there is something I should say, I've meant to say. Always meant and never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now. Sherlock is actually a girl's name."

John Watson is safe.

I'll miss you, John Watson. I love you, John Watson.

"No, it's not."

"It was worth a try."

You were worth it, John Watson.

"We're not naming our daughter after you."

"I think it could work."

It was time to say good bye. The final good bye. The memory of how John's eyes sparkled with amusement and fondness would have to be enough.

It would be enough.

"To the very best times, John."

Sherlock's hands were suddenly icy cold as another spike of pain clenched his heart, there was not nearly enough time for John's brief handshake to warm them up.

Good bye, John Watson.

182 days to go.

John Watson is safe.