Here we are at the end. This chapter is mostly the smexy bits so if you want to avoid those, I'd stop after Mycroft leaves the flat. Otherwise, there be Pirate play ahead, batten down the hatches!

A/N notes at the end.

These characters are the brilliant creation of the one and only Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (and the more updated 'Sherlock' comes from Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss) I've just had a fiddle with them.

Chapter 20

Sherlock and John left the hospital not long after the incident with Seb Moran. They were under extra surveillance from Mycroft, of course, as well as strict orders from the doctor. John's injuries continued to heal, but he still had a slight limp, his shoulder was in need of therapy and he needed to wear the eye patch for at least another week. The injury that would take the longest to heal and caused the greatest concern was the injury inflicted by the Judas device; it would be at least another month or two for that to be completely healed. The doctor told John that under no circumstances could he 'bottom' anytime soon. That hadn't been a problem. Although John had been affectionate, there had been no real advances made, on either's part, for sex. Sherlock was too worried about John's injuries, and John had just seemed disinterested. This didn't matter to Sherlock though. Sex wasn't the reason he'd entered into a relationship with John to begin with, and it wouldn't be a reason to quit having one.

A few weeks after John and Sherlock's return, Mycroft stopped by 221B. He'd wanted all the details of what had happened at Baskerville straight away, but Sherlock ignored his requests making it necessary for Mycroft to visit Baker Street and get the details in person.

"We could have done all of this over the phone, Mycroft", said Sherlock plucking the strings on his Stradivarius none too softly.

"And give you the chance to continue to ignore me?" Mycroft tilted his head to the side in that annoying way Sherlock hated. "I think not little brother."

"Don't call me that," Sherlock huffed.

"What? Little brother?" Mycroft seemed to be paying little attention to the conversation, instead opting to look around the flat.

"Yes," Sherlock replied. "It's condescending and you know it. So if you want any details about the case you'll refrain."

"Very well, Sherlock." Mycroft brought his attention back to the conversation. "Shall we begin?" Mycroft sat down across from Sherlock in the chair that was typically occupied by John.

Before Sherlock could begin, there was a fumbling at the front door and moments later it swung open wide. John walked into the room, his arms full of shopping bags.

"No, I've got it", he said sarcastically. "Why break tradition, it's not like I died or anything." John set the bags on the table in the kitchen with a dramatic huff.

"John, I do wish you'd stop saying that," Sherlock said uneasily. "It's not the least bit funny and as you are well aware, it won't garner the results you desire." In the time since they'd returned to Baker Street John had uttered the same phrase, or a variant thereof, 28 times. Sherlock had taken note of each one and disliked each and every utterance.

This was the first time Sherlock had said anything back after John made one of his 'dying' quips, so John opened his mouth to retort with another snide remark, but glancing up he saw the look in Sherlock's eyes. It was as if his words had physically hurt him. "I'm sorry Sherlock," John said plainly. "I won't do it again." John nodded to Sherlock as if to say, "I promise."

Sherlock nodded in return and then turned his attention back to Mycroft, who had been watching the whole exchange with rapt attention.

"There were quite a few obvious clues regarding what they were really up to at the facility." John, you remember." Sherlock called over to the kitchen where John was putting the shopping away.

John turned and stared back blankly, "Clues?"

Sherlock placed his violin back in its case, "Oh really John. I would have thought after all this time your observation skills were at least marginally better."

John said nothing but gave Sherlock his 'Stop fucking with me Sherlock' look, and went back to putting away the shopping.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and returned to his summation. "During our first foray into Baskerville, when John asked Corporal Lyons what it was they did at the facility, the Corporal said everything from stem cell research to trying to cure the common cold, but it was something else the Corporal said that struck me as odd. He said they worked on biological and chemical weapons and when one war ends another begins, which meant they had to have known about Doctor Frankland's work on the HOUND formula. When I saw the articles in the newspaper about Uganda and the Prime Minister I knew it couldn't all be coincidence. There was a sign in the lab at Baskerville that read, 'Keep Out If You Don't Want a Cold', a clear indication that they were mixing the formula to put into cold caps for distribution. It was Moriarty and Frankland that stole the formula and had it shipped to Uganda to start the uprising. The facility knew nothing of the affair; they were just producing the formula for future use, a contingency plan for the next war, so to speak."

"Incredible." John was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, all of his attention on Sherlock. "You're simply incredible," he said smiling. John was looking at Sherlock with pure adoration and love.

It still warmed Sherlock how much John praised him. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of it, and he decided to return the favour.

"Nonsense John, it was you that alerted me. Once we returned from Baskerville, I was content to move on to another case. If you hadn't thought something was still amiss we'd have never gone back and found that Moriarty was involved." Sherlock smiled a proud smile at John.

"Yes, well…" John looked down at the ground, a bit overcome by the praise from his partner. "It was that line you said regarding 'Seeing a man about a dog' that set me to thinking."

Mycroft and Sherlock exchanged a look that went unnoticed by John.

"So what will become of the facility? Are they going to keep it open?" John asked as he walked over to stand beside Sherlock, placing his hand on the back of the chair.

"That is a matter for the British government and none of your concern now." Mycroft said, straightening in the chair ever so slightly.

"You are the British government, Mycroft," said Sherlock. "If you can't say, then say so. Don't try to be all mysterious, it doesn't work."

"Fine," said Mycroft. "I can't say. Is that better?"

"No, because it means that the facility will remain open." Sherlock knew he had retained the upper hand in the conversation and that now was the perfect time to dismiss his brother. "John and I have a lot of things to do, Mycroft. Please be sure to see yourself out." Sherlock rose from the chair and motioned for his brother to leave.

"Very well, I suppose I have all the information I need." Mycroft rose from the chair. "Do let me know if you need anything."

"I doubt it," Sherlock said as he closed the door behind his brother.

XXX

The rest of the afternoon passed in relative silence. Sherlock was busy running some sort of experiment with fingernails, and John was reading the paper catching up on the news.

Sherlock strode from the kitchen to his chair and plopped down in it letting out a breath of frustrated air as he rested his head on the back, looking up to the ceiling.

John looked up from the newspaper. Sherlock must have either finished his experiment, not garnering the result he'd hoped, or it had to sit for further examination at a later time and Sherlock was now bored. John had been meaning to have a discussion with Sherlock since the hospital and now seemed the perfect opportunity- he would have Sherlock's full attention.

"She was wrong you know," said John.

"Who?" Sherlock pulled his head up off the back of the chair to look at John.

"Harry," said John, staring at Sherlock like he was looking straight into his soul. "What she said at the hospital. I heard her. In fact, I think the entire hospital must have heard her." John set his newspaper down and rose from the chair, moving to stand above Sherlock. "You're not the worst thing that's ever happened to me." John knelt between Sherlock's legs, wincing as the muscle in the calf of his bad leg protested. He took Sherlock's hands in his own and said, "You are without a doubt the very best thing that has ever happened to me." John quoted Whitman, "For you the flag has flung. For you the bugle trills."

Sherlock's mouth made a thin line, as it generally did when he became emotional, and he moved forward in the chair. He ran his hand through John's hair and down the side of his face while simultaneously bringing the other hand up to cup the other side of John's face. "So, my Captain, what shall we do now 'that the voyage is close and done'," a Whitman paraphrase that was not lost on John, this being a familiar dance between the blogger and his detective.

"Well, mister mysterious cheekbones," John sat up and mirrored Sherlock's touches from the moment before, "Thought we might play pirate before they remove the eye patch."

Sherlock's eyes grew wide. "John, are you sure that's wise? I didn't think you were interested in that right now. Remember what the doctor said."

"Well, I'm a doctor too, have you forgotten? Plus, it all depends on you matey," John said in his best 'Pirate' voice. "How do you feel about walking the plank?" John gave Sherlock a wink from the un-patched eye.

"John," said Sherlock, a grin creeping onto his face, "are you winking or blinking at me?"

John leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. Sherlock leaned into the kiss and opened his mouth to allow John's tongue access. Tenderness gave way to passion as Sherlock and John vied for control of each other's mouth. Finally they parted, each breathing heavily.

"That is unless you're disinclined to acquiesce to my request." John smiled wickedly.

Sherlock leaned back into the chair bringing John with him. "My good man, I'm inclined to acquiesce to your every request. Sherlock's hand found its way to bare skin on John's back.

John's position in the chair was ideal for the shorter of the two. Sitting on Sherlock's lap as he was gave John the advantage of looking down into his lover's eyes as he possessed his mouth once more. John fisted Sherlock's hair pulling his head back to give John access to Sherlock's alabaster neck.

"Oh, god…John," moaned Sherlock as John kissed and sucked on his neck, marking him. Sherlock gripped John tighter than he thought possible, pressing his growing erection into John as he sat astride.

"Mm… that feels good, Sherlock," John hummed as he moved to suck and nibble on Sherlock's ear. Between nibbles John whispered "I love you", causing Sherlock to immediately flash back to that day not so long ago on the moor.

John felt Sherlock tense beneath him. "What is it Sherlock, what's wrong? John moved back to look at him.

"I almost lost you, John." Sherlock's eyes were welling with tears. "That can never happen, and I will do anything and everything to make sure that doesn't happen. You mean so much to me." Sherlock reached up and caressed John's face. "Before you, my life had no meaning, no purpose. I was just going through the motions. You are my balance, with you I'm at an even keel." Sherlock's crystalline blue eyes were searching John's face. "When I saw you lying on the moor, I just…" Sherlock's voice trailed off.

John could feel Sherlock shaking beneath him. Gently, John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair, calming the great detective. Sherlock's eyes closed as he let himself be soothed. John leaned down and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "I'm right here. You saved me you wonderful man, and I will always and forever be yours."

John leaned in for another kiss. Sherlock relaxed under John, granting his tongue access as the kiss became all consuming.

Sherlock's hands worked their way under John's jumper and up his back.

The pressure of John's erection was making his current position in Sherlock's lap impossible to maintain, so with one fluid movement he grabbed Sherlock's hands and stepped back out of the chair pulling Sherlock up and out with him as he did.

Sherlock's hands immediately went to John's trousers unbuttoning and undoing the zip. He then slid his hands in and under the waistband of John's pants pushing both trouser and pants down to pool at John's ankles. Pulling John closer with one hand, Sherlock took the other and stroked John's cock. Pumping it, thumbing the slit and spreading the wetness over the head.

"Sherlock, oh god, yes…fuck…don't stop", John moaned as his head lolled backward.

Sherlock took advantage of John's exposed neck, leaning in to kiss and suck an area under John's right ear. "John", Sherlock whispered. "My Captain," he said; his voice was low and rumbling like a jaguar in a cello.

"Mm, yes…yours," John breathed.

Still focused on John's neck and earlobe, Sherlock released John's member and took a step forward bringing John with him as he did. John stepped out of the clothes that were gathered at his feet and began moving backwards with Sherlock towards the bedroom.

John pulled Sherlock's shirt free from his trousers and began unbuttoning it. By the time they'd reached the bedroom, Sherlock's chest was bared completely and John was lapping a nipple.

"Ungh," Sherlock grunted. "John. Fuck. There. Yes." Sherlock backed John up to the bed and leaned forward so that John was now on his back lying on the bed.

John licked his lips, his cock twitching in anticipation as he watched Sherlock divest himself of the rest of his clothes.

"God, you are so beautiful," said John staring at the naked man in front of him. Unable to contain himself any longer, he sat up from the bed and grabbed Sherlock by the waist. Using his tongue, John licked the underside of Sherlock's cock from base to head darting his tongue into the slit as he reached the tip.

"Christ!" Sherlock yelled, alarmed at the sudden contact.

"Hmmm," John hummed, still mouthing back and forth on Sherlock's cock. Reaching up, John cupped Sherlock's balls, giving them a light squeeze.

Sherlock's head began to swim. He needed to lie down before he fell down.

Having made it onto the bed Sherlock found John determined as ever. John licked Sherlock's pelvic crevice sending a shiver up Sherlock's spine, making his cock leak more fluid.

This did not go unnoticed by John. "Wet. So. Wet." He said moving to suck Sherlock off once more.

Sherlock's hips bucked upward with want. "Mouth…so…huh…oh…fuck…yes…" was all he could say as he fisted his hand in John's hair.

John looked up and met Sherlock's eyes, each seeing the fire burning within the other. John moved up the bed kissing every part of Sherlock as he went, hesitating on each nipple to give them a nibble. Reaching Sherlock's mouth, John immediately parted his lips and sent his tongue probing.

Sherlock could taste himself on John's lips and it made his cock throb even harder.

"Inside. I need you. Inside, please John." Sherlock begged.

There was a rustling as John reached over into the nightstand and then he moved back down the bed to begin licking and sucking Sherlock again. This time, John lifted Sherlock's leg up and pulled apart his arse cheeks. John had perfect access now and he moved in to lick Sherlock's hole, pushing his tongue through sphincter muscle making Sherlock writhe and moan.

"Mm… Juh…oh ..guh. Yes! Now, John…I need…inside…fuck me…"

The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air as John lathered his fingers and cock with lube.

Gently pushing a finger inside Sherlock, John leaned forward and sucked on his balls, then moved once again to his lover's cock. Carefully, John inserted another finger, moving them around to massage Sherlock's prostate.

Sherlock bit his lip at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body. "Now, John…now…please!" he said desperately.

John removed his fingers and immediately replaced them with his cock, slamming into Sherlock, feeling the muscles close around him. "Fuck!" John cried.

Letting the initial wave of pleasure and pain die down, John began to move again. "God, Sherlock. You feel amazing. So amazing," he said thrusting forward slowly.

"Ungh, harder….John…faster…go…need … more," said Sherlock looking straight into and through John hovering above him.

John picked up his pace. He wasn't going to last much longer. "Sher…can't …going to…," he said still managing to keep the pace up. John grabbed the headboard for added leverage and gave a few more powerful thrusts finally sending him over the edge. "SHERLOCK!" he screamed as the climax overtook him.

"Juh, Joh, JAWN!" cried Sherlock soon after - pitching forward and hitting his head on John's chest.

John eased out of Sherlock and moved to nestle under his arm. A mix of sweat and semen glistened off both men.

Sherlock's eyes were closed. John thought he might already be asleep, but he pulled John to him and kissed the top of his head.

Sherlock opened his eyes as a tear streaked down his face, "I love you John Watson; like I've never loved anything else."

John looked up and replied, "And love you Sherlock Holmes, until all my days are done and then some."

THE END

A/N: So I guess that's really it then. Mark this one complete!

Many, many, MANY thanks to everyone that has taken the time to read my story. It means a lot, and has given me great encouragement to continue writing. There are a few bits and pieces throughout the story that I've put in intentionally to connect with another story that's in development right now so I hope you'll come back and read that one once it's finished.

Super-duper hugs and thanks to my beta(s) for RTB - Especially you Texty for being so patient and giving me the tools (read cheat sheet) to put a proper fic together. Love you, there and back again, my friend. xx