Sherlock's POV

I yawned and slid between the sheets of my bed. I didn't much care for sleeping; it was dull and boring, a waste of time. But the last case was long and exhausting, so it felt good to be wrapped up in my soft warm bed. I felt the familiar wave of sleep wash over me, my thoughts made less and less sense, I felt like I was floating . . . then, it started to slip away. Not completely, just enough for me to be aware of my surroundings. I growled to myself; it couldn't possibly be morning already!

I started when I felt a strong arm snake around my waste and heard a sleepy chuckle. "'Morning, Sherlock."

" . . . J-John?" He chuckled again.

"Well who else would be in your bed?" He kissed me delicately on the cheek. " You haven't been fooling around, have you?"

" . . . I'm confused . . ."

"You're just sleepy. I'll get some coffee in you." John climbed out of bed, wearing nothing but his bright red pants, and exited the room. I immediately grabbed my phone from the nightstand. The calender read March 25, 2014.

"Impossible!" I said aloud. Yesterday had been March 25th! I calculated the different possibilities. It was the same year, so I hadn't just forgotten a year. I could remember everything about last night, and John hadn't come into my room, I was sure of it. So . . . I was dreaming. "A lucid dream . . . a completely lucid dream!"

I smiled to myself: I could do anything in a lucid dream, and I intended to take full advantage of it. There was only one thing I wanted to do, and luckily it seemed as though John was more than willing to participate. But before I wrapped him in my arms and breathed him in and savored him until I had to wake up, I decided to test it, just in case.

I pulled my sheet around me, also in nothing but my pants, and descended the stairs slowly. I noticed that there was still a slight haze around me, but my muscles weren't sore or tired: more confirmation that I was asleep. The smell of hot coffee greeted me in the kitchen, as well as the pleasant sight of John wearing my robe. I carefully walked up behind him, close enough to feel his warmth.

Much to my delight, John leaned back into me. "Trust the promise of coffee to get you out of bed," he commented.

"I'm more interested in the promise of you," I said, trying to be flirtatious. John turned around to encircle my waist with his arms.

"You're terrible at flirting," he said, pecking me on the lips, "but I love you anyway."

I felt like the world melted into pure bliss when he said he loved me. For a moment I was stunned, staring at him and letting everything else in existence slip away, because nothing was important enough to exist outside of John. After a moment I leaned down and captured his lips in a longing kiss.

"Mmm, the coffee!" John whined around my lips.

"Leave it," I begged, but he just smiled and got it anyway. I took my mug and followed him to the couch and sat down next to him, practically laying on him, while he turned on the telly.

"You're very affectionate today," John observed. "Another nightmare?"

"You've no idea."

"What was it about?"

"It was about . . . a case. But, you didn't love me. We were just friends." John chuckled and stroked my arm.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore, do you?" My heart sank a little, knowing that eventually I would wake up and it would all be over. I briefly wondered if I was just torturing myself, letting this continue, but I couldn't bear the thought of rejecting him now, so I snuggled closer to him. I even put my coffee down so I could hold him better.

Later, Lestrade called us to continue the case, which I solved quickly, because I had already solved it when I was awake. Everything was different, though. John sent me little smiles when no one was looking, and no one appeared to know that we were together. That was just the way I liked it. Our own little secret. Besides that, everyone was . . . nice to me. Donovan didn't call me 'Freak', Anderson was actually helpful, and Lestrade complimented me. I rather liked this other world.

We didn't get back to the flat until late, because Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan invited us out for drinks. John rubbed his eyes tiredly as I pulled off my coat and scarf. "I'm exhausted," he muttered.

"I feel excellent! This was the best day of my life!" I said, hugging him from behind.

"What made today so special?"

"I had you today, John."

"Sherlock . . . we've been together for months." I nodded into his neck sadly, knowing that I'd be waking up soon. "Come on, Sherlock, I'm falling asleep standing here." He pulled me into his room and started stripping down to his pants. I pulled off my shirt and collapsed on his bed. "You wanna sleep in here?" he asked, seeming surprised.

"I don't care where we sleep, I just want to cuddle you," I answered. John turned the light off and slid in next to me. I had the feeling again; the wave of sleep wash over me before subsiding. I stirred, feeling John's arm around my waist suddenly become a pillow. I sat up and looked around, groggy as though I had been asleep all night.

"John?" I said. I went back over last night in my mind again. We solved the case, went out for drinks, and I fell asleep in John's bed with his arm around me. "John!"

John opened my door and put his head in. "Hmm?"

"Where-what's happening? How did I get in my bed?"

"You . . . you fell asleep in it, last night. Remember?"

" . . . where are you going?"

"To work. I actually have a job. Just have some coffee and you'll be fine," he sighed affectionately and shut the door.

" . . . It was just a dream," I told myself quietly. "It's over now."