When John woke up it was almost a miracle not to hear Hamish's screams. It was Friday, and John had nearly forgotten about Archie's planned visit until he stumbled downstairs, lumbering towards the kitchen counter where Hamish was sitting on a stool, swinging his legs from the chair and watching cartoons from afar.
"Good morning Hamish." John said with a smile, ruffling his son's hair as he ate his cereal.
"I unpacked my whole room, so I'll ask Archie today alright, and then you can plan things with his parents and all that." Hamish decided, as if this were already a done deal. John groaned, leaning against the counter and staring blankly at the fridge, wondering how on earth he was going to host another screaming seven year old.
"Ya, alright, you do that." John agreed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and pouring himself some granola. John sat on the couch and flipped over to the news, much to Hamish's complaint, but if he had to hear SpongeBob laugh one more time he might just scream himself. John knew that Sherlock had to be coming over this morning, and even if he doesn't plan on making John's house his first stop John would see him later in the day, so he had to try to think about what to say. I know it doesn't sound that important, but in a situation like this everything you say can be used against you in a court of love. Obviously he was going to start out with a cup of coffee, black with two sugars, just like Molly said. John didn't know whether or not he should bring up the whole thing on the porch, just in case Sherlock didn't want to talk about it or John had misread his intentions. Even Molly agreed though, John was definitely right here, Sherlock had definitely wanted to kiss him. Why else would he get so close, brush his fingers against John's neck? It was common sense, at least John hoped it was, if not this would get very awkward very quickly.
"Daddy the bus is coming soon!" Hamish exclaimed as John lounged on the couch, his empty bowl sitting on the coffee table right next to his feet.
"Oh ya, you're right, alright then come on, don't want to be late." John agreed, taking his son's hand and leading him outside to the road.
"So I'll tell Archie to be here around six, and then his parents can come get him tomorrow morning." Hamish decided.
"Ya, around ten alright? I don't want your little gremlin friend eating up all of my Saturday." John insisted with a laugh.
"He's not a gremlin!" Hamish insisted with a little frown, but they were both distracted when they heard the sound of an engine coming down the road. John got a little bit excited when he heard it, hoping that it would be Sherlock's truck, but instead there was a big yellow bus chugging along and John frowned a little bit. Oh well, at least that gets Hamish out of the way for the grand reunion.
"Bye daddy!" Hamish called as he scrambled up the stairs, the bus driver smiling rather sadly at Hamish, as if he wanted to come across as nice but hated his life. John just waved when he saw Hamish scramble into his seat, waving until the bus was out of his view before dropping his hand and scanning the road again for any incoming trucks. Unfortunately it was silent, no engines, no trucks, no Sherlock, so John turned around and marched back into his house, taking one last look before shutting the door and walking into the kitchen. He started the coffee maker, just so it would be ready to produce the best coffee Sherlock has ever tasted, and sat back down on the couch, watching the rest of the news. But he couldn't get his mind on whatever local charity event happened yesterday, his mind was elsewhere, wherever Sherlock was hiding out. Was he intentionally skipping so he didn't have to approach John? Was he worried that John would hate him; did he think that since he had tried and failed to make a move that suddenly John would no longer like him? Oh how wrong he was, but then why was he so late? John's foot was tapping uncomfortably and in about five minutes he walked back over to the window, peering out from behind the curtain, scanning the perimeter thoroughly before frowning. Still no Sherlock. He walked back over to the kitchen and tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the counter, trying to make up reasonable reasons that Sherlock might not be attending work. He could be sick, that's a possibility, or maybe he needed to get fertilizer and had to get it freshly made because they ran out. Or maybe he was waiting on some more hydrangeas that weren't properly potted in to go containers. Either way made John nervous, as long as he wasn't with some girl, or guy...Maybe he had rushed home because he knew someone was waiting for him there, and he had a wild night or drinking and partying and was still passed out on his couch? The idea made john's stomach twist and he shook his head rapidly, of course that wasn't it. Sherlock didn't seem like the type to party, in fact it would be a miracle if he even drank at all. He seemed like such a nice and sophisticated person, yes maybe he had scotch or wine or something, but the idea of Sherlock getting drunk was almost a laughable idea. He was probably really fun to be around in college. When the coffee machine was done and there were two cups of black coffee John went back over to the window, peering nervously out with a frown on his face. Finally he was able to see a white truck in the driveway, its lights still on so he must've just arrived. Thank God. So John shuffled out the door, balancing two cups of coffee the best he could, walking down the sidewalk and trying to catch Sherlock before he walked away again. The gardener was now pulling things out of the back of his truck, carefully edging down what looked like a weed whacker from the depths while Redbeard ran around his heels. John approached cautiously, making sure not to spill any of the coffee over the rims of the cups. Sherlock still hadn't noticed him, so this was definitely going to be a surprise.
"Good morning neighbor." John said with a friendly smile. Sherlock jumped, dropping a water can onto the pavement with a plastic clatter.
"John! Oh dear you scared me!" Sherlock admitted, holding his hand to his chest as if trying to prevent himself from having a heart attack.
"Sorry about that, I didn't mean to scare you." John admitted. Sherlock just smiled at him, and just then did John remember exactly what had been going on between them. He felt his cheeks go red and he immediately looked down at the cups of coffee, as if pretending to be interested in the little grains of sugar floating around.
"Why'd you call me neighbor? I'm not technically your neighbor." Sherlock pointed out, picking up the watering can and setting it down gently on the driveway.
"I don't know, I just did, it's better than saying good morning neighbor's gardener. That just doesn't flow." John decided. Sherlock nodded in agreement, and John thought he might have seen just a little bit of blush in his cheeks. He didn't know what it might be, maybe just the slight wind in the air, or the fact that he had been spooked, but his face seemed to have just a little bit more color than it usually did.
"I made coffee." John said rather obviously, holding out Sherlock's coffee mug with a bit of an apologetic smile on his face.
"Coffee? What's the occasion?" Sherlock wondered, thanking John as he took the cup from his hands. Of course John noticed every single brush of their fingers as the cup was handed off, every time their skin brushed a spark rushed up his hands, making him very glad he wasn't holding the cup anymore. If Sherlock's hand had brushed up against John's while he was holding the coffee it would end up in shards on the floor, his entire hand would just go limp and numb.
"There's no occasion, I just...I guess this was going to be my apology, and since you already apologized I couldn't see why I couldn't just bring it out anyway." John decided with a shrug, just now realizing how needy he must appear. "Sorry." He muttered very quickly. Sherlock just laughed above him, as if something John had said had been amusing.
"No need to apologize Mr. Watson, I see you made my favorite." Sherlock assured. "Let's sit in the back of my truck." Sherlock walked over and hopped into the back, his long legs just barely touching the ground from that height. John smiled rather timidly, nodding and setting his coffee down on the truck before hopping up as well, much less gracefully as Sherlock had.
"Who told you I liked black coffee?" Sherlock wondered with a little smile, taking a sip and sighing in satisfaction.
"Oh, a little birdy." John muttered, sniffing at his coffee nervously. He had never enjoyed black coffee, but since he had made a whole pot for Sherlock he decided that he might as well just suffer through it.
"Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock guessed, taking another sip and peering at John over the top of his mug.
"Molly, actually. I went to her for advice on how to apologize." John admitted.
"You did, did you? What did she say?" Sherlock wondered with a tone of amusement.
"Oh you know, how you like your coffee, how you're defensive of your masculinity, just the norm I guess." John shrugged.
"Defensive of my...masculinity?" Sherlock asked with a laugh, taking another sip of coffee and eyeing John curiously. John groaned, wondering why on earth he would tell Sherlock any of that.
"She said that the reason you were mad at me was because I had insulted gardening." John pointed out, hoping that Molly had her facts straight. But Sherlock just laughed, shaking his head as if that were somehow amusing to him.
"Mr. Watson I wasn't mad at you for calling gardening feminine; in fact I don't know why I was even mad at you at all. Sometimes I just get a bit dramatic, that's all. I'm not insulted by my job; in fact I love it with an undying passion. I don't care what others might think about my profession as long as I'm happy with it." Sherlock assured.
"Well still, you seemed a little bit angry so I just...took precautions. Hence the coffee." John admitted.
"IT wasn't your fault, yesterday, it was mine." Sherlock assured.
"That's why you felt the need to come over last night?" John guessed. Sherlock took another sip of his coffee rather quickly, as if looking for something to do other than answer that question right away.
"Yes, to apologize, of course." Sherlock agreed rather forcefully.
"What happened last night?" John wondered, feeling rather brave. For once he felt like he was in control of this conversation, for once Sherlock was the one that was uncomfortable. It was power that he wanted to take advantage of.
"Last night? Nothing happened last night. I apologized, I brought you flowers, we sat and talked a little bit and then I left. Nothing happened." Sherlock assured.
"I felt like something might've happened." John admitted. Sherlock sighed heavily, frowning into his coffee before taking another sip, his cheeks completely flustered.
"But it didn't, and I suppose that's all that matters." He muttered, sounding just a bit disappointed. John was silent, not really sure how to respond to that, so he just nodded.
"Yes, I suppose it is. But maybe it's not what happened, it's what could happen. In the future." John decided, looking up at Sherlock hopefully. For once they didn't make eye contact, for once Sherlock kept his eyes on the ground, as if too embarrassed to look up.
"The future, Mr. Watson, is still very far away." Sherlock decided, his voice sounding very sad, as if he hated to think of how impossible the future might be.
"It doesn't have to be." John assured, and he could almost feel Sherlock tremble. John almost felt bad for putting him in such an awkward position, but he felt like there was nothing else he could do. Somehow he had to tell Sherlock that it was alright, somehow he had to tell him that he was loved as well.
"Sherlock dear, what are you doing out there?" called a voice from the house. Sherlock turned so quickly that what remained of his coffee spilled all over the bed of truck, making John yelp and quickly jump back onto the driveway, just to protect his pants from any black coffee catastrophe. Mrs. Hudson was standing in the sidewalk in a pink bathrobe, looking very sorry for having ruined their little moment of solitude.
"It's alright Mrs. Hudson, I'll be right out." Sherlock assured, getting to his feet as well and brushing the coffee from the bed of the truck rather apologetically.
"I'm sorry dear, if I had known you had a guest I wouldn't kept my mouth shut." Mrs. Hudson muttered, pulling her robe around herself and walking down to the driveway where Sherlock was picking the watering can back up.
"If you don't mind Mr. Watson, I was going to add some sprinklers into your yard; I think it's looking a bit dry." Sherlock decided, eying John's lawn with a big of a disapproving look. John looked over at it as well but didn't see anything wrong, other than being a bit overgrown it didn't seem like it was dry.
"Alright, I guess you know best." John muttered, looking over at Mrs. Hudson to see if she knew what was going on. However she just shrugged with a little twinkle in her eyes, walking over and peering into the back of Sherlock's truck.
"Oh you made a mess didn't you?" she asked with a laugh.
"It'll clean it out later, but I've got work to do." Sherlock decided with a shrug, turning towards John with a bit of a soft smile. "Thank you for the coffee Mr. Watson, it always makes my day a little bit brighter."
"It's just coffee." Joh muttered rather shyly, but he appreciated the complement anyway, feeling his cheeks get a bit red when he remembered that Mrs. Hudson was watching them with a knowing smile.
"I'll see you later today I suppose; I need to install those sprinklers." Sherlock decided with a sigh.
"Ya, I don't know, I'm planning on running to the hospital again, turn in my application and all of that." John decided.
"You still don't have a job?" Mrs. Hudson asked in a tone of surprise. John just shrugged rather embarrassedly, not liking to admit he was unemployed. It made him sound like a real free loader to be honest.
"It's been hard you know, with Hamish's school and all of that, it's been hard to get it in." John admitted.
"Well you better get on that, you've got a mortgage to pay now." Mrs. Hudson pointed out. John just laughed, shaking his head and covering his ears.
"No, I don't want to hear anything about that!" Joh insisted with a teasing smile.
"Oh the joys of renting." Sherlock muttered with a smile.

"Oh shush Sherlock, you've still got to pay rent." Mrs. Hudson pointed out, and Sherlock's smile faded a little bit.
"Oh ya. I should probably do that." Sherlock decided with a shrug, and with that he picked up his watering can once more and gave one last smile to John. "I should be off then, lots to do."
"Bye Sherlock, and sorry, if I haven't already expressed that." John decided.
"All is forgiven Mr. Watson; we look ahead, not backwards." Sherlock assured, smiling one last time before disappearing around the side of the house. This left John and Mrs. Hudson standing rather awkwardly in the driveway, watching the spot where Sherlock had disappeared as if he would suddenly reappear and say something else. But alas it was silent, and eventually John decided he had to do something other than standing around with two coffee cups in his hands.