Many thanks to MapleleafCameo for looking this over for me. :-)

Twenty years later

It was a blustery day and John watched the trees sway back and forth, grateful to be inside where it was warm. He stepped away from the window, pausing at the desk he shared with Sherlock. Laying a hand on the other man's left shoulder; he placed a kiss on top of the graying curls. A quiet, "Mmmm," could be heard.

"Almost done updating your journal for the day?" he asked, stepping towards his chair by the fire.

"Yes, just writing down what I've done so far. Need to make sure the bees will ready for winter."

John took up the scarf he had been working on for the past three days. A few months earlier, he had tried to learn how to knit as his Nan years before. Ready to give up, he changed his mind when Mrs. Fitzharding, their neighbor, had stepped in and offered to show him how to knit with a round loom instead. He'd been amazed of all the things she had made, listened to her advice, looked at the websites she had sent him and practiced on the loom she had let him borrow.

John had then purchased a set for himself and made both Lestrade and Molly a scarf for Christmas in colors he knew they liked. Now he was finishing a lovely grey and blue striped one for Sherlock. So caught up in his project he almost missed the sound of the oven timer. Putting his work to the side, John headed to the kitchen, pulled out the apple pie and set it on the table to cool.

As he started another row, Sherlock sat across from him. "All set then?" he asked.

Taking his reading glasses off, Sherlock nodded. "Yes, they have plenty of ventilation and feed. Tomorrow I'll clean all of my spare equipment and store it away until next year."

"Good, good."

Sherlock hummed, closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the back of his chair.

"It's been a while since lunch. We should start thinking about what to do for dinner." John saw Sherlock open his mouth, "And don't tell me you won't be hungry."

The open mouth closed. John smirked, knowing the battle was won. At least for now.

Time slipped by in comfortable silence. The sun was starting to set when John tied his last knot and cut the yarn. He looked up to see Sherlock had dozed off while reading his new Beekeeper's Quarterly. John put his supplies to the side but took the finished scarf. The brush of his leg against his husband's caused Sherlock to wake with a snort and John couldn't help but grin.

"Good evening, sleeping beauty," he teased, tossing the scarf onto Sherlock's lap. "Give this a try while I figure out dinner."

A glance in the nearly empty pantry had him calling out, "Take away?"

Turning, John saw Sherlock just behind, knitted wool wrapped snug around his neck.

"Fine," he answered, reaching up to remove his scarf. His hands froze when his eyes looked towards the kitchen table.

John watched his husband still. "What?"

Instead of answering, Sherlock just grinned as he reached into a drawer and grabbed two forks.

"That's not what I had in mind for dinner," John complained but by the time Sherlock was seated and about to take a bite, he was reaching for the second fork.

Minutes later, and with half the pie nearly gone, both men leaned back in their chairs, content.

"Good," Sherlock sighed as he stood, gathered up the dirty forks and put them in the sink.

"So good," John agreed.

"Apple pie is my favorite."

John smiled fondly. "I know."

"You've always known, haven't you? Even before we first spoke." Sherlock felt arms encircle his waist and leaned into the chest behind him.

The words, "my first day at the new school I saw this curly haired kid tell snotty Seb Wilkes what he'd been doing the night before instead of finishing his homework. Couldn't help but think, he could be interesting," were spoken against his left temple.

Sherlock chuckled, "the first day we spoke I thought, this new kid might be different. He actually saw me."

John stepped away to turn his love around. "I've always seen you."

Closing his eyes, Sherlock whispered, "I know."

John drew the face he had loved for most of his life down, taking his time as he kissed first each eyelid, then a cheek and temple before taking Sherlock's breath away in a passion filled kiss. Even after decades of loving one another, they couldn't get close enough. Finally, when breath was a necessity, John pulled back.

"How about we take this into the bedroom, and then later I'll cook us eggs and toast for dinner."

Sherlock tugged John impatiently towards their room. As the door closed he couldn't help but ask, "Can we finish the apple pie for dessert?"

Their laughter filled the house.

It's been a ridiculously long time since I started this fluffy fic but now it's finished. :-)

The few words about beekeeping mentioned came from the monthly checklist on the Essex Beekeepers' Association. Oh, and there is such a thing as The Beekeeper's Quarterly. I felt Sherlock would get it.