So this is it the last chapter. I'll be posting the second story soon, so please check it out. I still don't have a title for it, and I'm open for suggestions. Please Review.

disclaimer; I own nothing.

Sherlock dug into his chicken and fried rice he ordered. He'd hardly eaten anything all day except for a small breakfast. The two sat in the back of an out-of-the-way chinese. The place had tacky bright-colored chinese themed decoration to make the place seem more authentic. Sherlock thought it just seemed silly, but the food was good. John smirked at him across the table.

"What?" Sherlock frowned.

"Nothing, It's just weird seeing you now all grow up. I still think of you as the tall, lanky kid with the short hair, braces, and a lisp." John smiled.

"You had to remind me." Sherlock groaned.

Sherlock stomped over to the table where John was sitting with his latest girlfriend. He sat down heavily on the bench next to John, and the two both turned looking at him.

"I'm going to put poison in Power'th food, and watch him die." Without another word the girl got up hurrying off. John just sighed turning to his friend.

"You didn't need to scare her off. What did Powers do this time?"

"My oral report in cla'th. He kept mocking me and making fun of my li'thp." Sherlock half growled and John chuckled. Sherlock sent his friend a death glare.

"Oh, come on it's not that bad. Plus I think your lisp's cute." Sherlock's head snapped up so fast that he heard something pop in his neck. John seemed to pause for a minute before he looked at Sherlock and shrugged. "And I'm sure you'll find a girl who thinks the same." John said hurriedly. Right, of course John didn't like him. That'd just be wishful thinking.

"Right, I'd better get to class." Sherlock said standing.

"Do you want me to walk with you?" John asked.

"No, I'll be fine." As long as I'm not thrown into a trash can before I get there, Sherlock thought to himself walking off.

John laughed and Sherlock smiled along with him. They both picked at their food in a comfortable silence. Indistinct murmurs from the few people still there filled the restaurant.

"Oh, right." John broke out setting down his fork and reaching into his pocket. "Here, I thought you might need these. By your lack of a reaction I'm starting to worry getting hit by cars in regular occurence for you." John tossed him a bottle and Sherlock caught it easily out of the air. Sherlock looked at the bottle of Advil in his hand.

"Sort of." Sherlock twisted off the top popping two in his mouth, and tried not to think about the last pill he had almost taken. As tough as Sherlock was he was still fairly shaken for the whole thing. You didn't walk away unmoved from a murderous taxi driver. Sherlock took a long drink of water to wash it down. He looked over at John who was watching him and cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're different." John sighed. "Sherlock you've always been...odd and a bit harsh, but back at the flat that was cold. When DI Lestrade said the daughter was stillborn you didn't even react. Worse you were happy. What honestly happened to make you so hard?" Sherlock didn't move just sat there staring down into his food. Finally Sherlock looked up at John was watching him, his brow creased.

"I grew up John. They were already died anyways so what does it matter. Caring is not an advantage." Sherlock said quoting what Mycroft would say to him when he had a bad day at school. John pursed his lips and sighed. They were silent for a minute, and Sherlock racked his brain for a way to change the subject.

"Here." John sat a fortune cookie on the table in front of Sherlock. He smirked realising what John was on about. He picked it up in his hand running through the statistics in his head. Something vague, but meaningful. "Hmm... something along the line of live life to the fullest." John motioned for him to go ahead and Sherlock cracked open the cookie pulling out the paper strip. "Love comes to those who are patient." Sherlock sighed in defeat and John started giggling. Sherlock just rolled his eyes at him.

"Very impressive Sherlock."

"I did say almost." John rolled his eyes.

"We should get back to the flat. You still need to meet DI Lestrade tomorrow."

"How do you know?" Sherlock asked. The only time John had talked to Lestrade was when Sherlock was there, and he knew that John didn't know about his meeting the DI tomorrow.

"He texted me." John shrugged.

"Since when does he have your number?" Sherlock asked sitting up straighter.

"I talked to him before you came out of the building. We exchange numbers so I could make sure you go in tomorrow." Sherlock wasn't all too comfortable with this whole situation. He just didn't like Lestrade and John getting this close this quick. He had no doubt the two men would get along, but they both were Sherlock's friend or at least close to it. It was odd having them together.

"So you're my superviser now?"

"Someone needs to be." John smirked.

"Fine," Sherlock huffed. "let's go then." They both got up John handed Sherlock his coat as they made their way out. Sherlock stopped by the front taking a few pounds from his wallet to pay.

"You don't need to pay for me, Sherlock." John said holding his wallet, but Sherlock just waved him off.

"It's the least I can do you did save my life after all."

"Well someone needs to keep you safe."

"An ex-army doctor with an illegal service weapon. I feel so safe." Sherlock smirked and John just rolled his eyes.

They stepped outside the London air pressing against them. The temperature had dropped and the weather was fairly cold for early March. The detective tugged his coat tighter around himself. John walked along beside him down the street toward the flat, and Sherlock wondered if this would be a recurring situation. John helping him solve cases. Sherlock never thought he could tolerate let alone enjoy having someone accompany him on a case. John knew just what to say to spark Sherlock's thought, and he knew when not to say anything. He was willing to listen to Sherlock and put up with him when no one else would. The doctor and detective solving crime on the street of London. Sounds like a bad TV show. Sherlock smiled to himself. Only time would tell, and right now all he cared about was getting home and finishing his experiment of the effect of nicotine poisoning in the blood.