24 Hours

Snowflakes fell softly onto the streets around me as my feet lead me up the small set of stairs leading up to 221B Baker street. My hands shook, the carefully wrapped present in my hands shaking as I knocked. After a few moments of no one answering, I turned to walk away, slightly disappointed.

"Andrea?" His unmistakable voice called after me, deep and guttural. It always seemed to ring through me, vibrate through me to my very core.

"Yes, it's me."

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, though he moved aside immediately to let me in, nonetheless, "Has something else happened?"

"No, I came to celebrate with you."

"What?"

"It's New Years eve, Sherlock!" I smiled cheerfully, walking up the staircase to his flat before he could stop me, "I knew you'd be here alone, possibly pouring over something gruesome and I just can't have that. Where is John, then? New girlfriend?"

"Andrea, you can't just - and yes, he is - but you can't...," Sherlock, who almost always seemed so poised and perfect, was at a loss for words in front of me, "It's been three months. I rang you. I rang you so often..."

"You mean the great Sherlock Holmes couldn't find me? I guess you must not have wanted to."

"So, it's true. You did hide from me."

"I didn't hide from you, idiot," I muttered, now sitting on the floor - it had become my preferred place months ago when we were working, "I hid from the feelings. The stupid feelings neither of us could comprehend nor understand despite my top schooling and your, well, ginormous brain."

"I don't have... feelings."

"Shut up!"

"Don't tell me to... Andrea, what are you doing?"

Sherlock stared at me as I walked around him, shutting the door, before taking off my coat to reveal my pajamas underneath.

"I'm staying the night."

"Who decided this? What exactly is going on here? Did John put you up to this?"

"How does the world's favorite detective not know wh-"

"Consulting detective." He muttered.

"Oh, shut it again, you. Remember that night you literally jumped in front of a bullet for me and asked me to stay the night, but I told you I couldn't? You asked me, you begged me... But we both had absolutely no fucking idea what to do, so I disappeared."

"For three months. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" More muttering. I ignored it.

"That's rich, coming from you. I heard what you did a few years ago."

"That was different..."

"How? How, Sherlock? We were both running from things. Things that could kill us."

"You're exaggerating as usual." Sherlock droned in his 'unimpressed' voice, now taking a sit on the chair in front of me. Again, his usual spot.

"Falling in love when you don't understand it can kill you in different ways."

"Dramatic."

"Do you want me to stay or not?"

His eyes darted from me, to the box in my hand, to the door. I could tell he was choosing between a smartass remark and a serious one.

"Stay."

"Good. Progress. I've brought you a present. Do you know what's in it?"

"No." Sherlock answered. I knew he was lying to please me. He'd often do that until I caught onto his deductions, how he could always find me out. I loved to make it so he couldn't and watch it infuriate him, but I wanted him to know this time. And I wanted him to lie for me.

"Go on, open it."

Sherlock took the box from my hands, running his long, pale fingers over the wrapping, before carefully peeling it off. After a moment of staring at it in disbelief, Sherlock took the small, gold object from the box, holding it in his hand.

"Where?"

"Syria."

"What the hell was it doing in Syria?"

"It's moved through a lot of places and people since you lost it. Silly boy Sherlock was."

"I never considered tracking it down. Why did you do this?" Sherlock now had a confused expression on his face.

"Because I love you, Sherlock."

Sherlock paused for a moment, "Andrea, you know I cannot say it bac-"

"I know you can't," I interrupted him hurriedly, "But let's say we could pretend, maybe just for twenty-four hours, that you could love me back? Can't we do that?"

Sherlock looked from the object to me, before doing something I'd never expected. Not in a million years. His strong hands pulled me off the ground, pulling me into a kiss. His hands wrapped around my neck pulling us closer and deeper. It seemed to last hours and seconds at the same time. I never wanted to pull apart.

"Happy new year, Andrea."