The day merged into the night.

Sherlock and Elizabeth had avoided each other for the entirety of the day, both afraid of how to confront each other. Should they be forward, or delicate? Should they speak today or perhaps tomorrow?

John was annoyed by their tiptoeing around each other.

He felt like the two of them were ghosts: he barely heard from Sherlock after their short conversation that morning and then hardly heard anything from Elizabeth at all. He understood that he and Elizabeth weren't close but he would always be willing to offer a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on.

With a sigh, John stood up from his seat, which drew Sherlock's attention away from the book he had been reading.

"I'm leaving for bed now." John announced.

Sherlock nodded, "This seems important to announce because...?"

"Because when I leave, I want you two to talk. I want you to go and talk to Elizabeth and sort this out."

"She's probably sleep - "

"No. Stop. It's only 9pm. You're procrastinating." John headed to the door of the apartment, "Talk to her!" He hissed before shutting the door behind him and headed upstairs.

Sherlock sat in silence for a moment, listening to the gentle crackle of the wood in the fireplace, unsure of what to do. Well, he knew what he had to do. John hadn't hesitated on telling him what. But it was that feeling of needing to work himself up to it.

Yet he didn't have much time at all.

Elizabeth floated from out of his room, and headed to the kitchen, all the while without acknowledging Sherlock as they had both done the whole day. She didn't mean to disregard his existence but it had been a mutual disregarding of each other's existence because of the tense atmosphere.

John was right though (as always). They couldn't go on like this.

"Elizabeth?" Sherlock called to her from the safety of his armchair.

The thief turned around, a small, shy smile on her face, "Yeah?"

"Can we...talk?"

She exhaled. Elizabeth wanted to talk. She really did. But she was worried about what Sherlock would say. However, if they didn't talk, then they would never know what either of them thought.

"Uh...sure." She nodded, walking out of the kitchen and moving to stand by John's chair.

Sherlock stood too, now uncomfortable being lower than her. He thought it rude of him to be sat so casually while she stood.

"So..."

"So." Elizabeth swayed on the balls of her feet.

"Last night - "

"I didn't mean to say it meant nothing. The kiss." Elizabeth blurted and then backtracked, "Not to say it meant anything major either. I was just - we were under pressure. It was an impulsive decision and then you weren't doing anything so I said something that I thought would get your attention and snap you back to the present. And I - I don't really know what the kiss was. It was a distraction but - I don't know." She shrugged, lost for a better explanation.

Sherlock gave a single nod, "Okay..."

He just wasn't quite expecting her to just come out with it like that.

"I don't know how I felt about it either." He continued.

It was Elizabeth's turn to nod, "Did you... feel anything? When I kissed you?"

Sherlock nodded, "Did you?"

Elizabeth nodded, "But if you still don't know and I still don't know what it was then we are back at square one."

"What was square one?"

"I don't know that either."

They chuckled, looking down at the floor and then back up to each other.

"I guess there's only one way to find out then." Elizabeth said this very quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear.

"What's that?"

"We could...kiss again? Only if you wanted to, of course, seeing as you didn't get much of a say last time."

Again they laughed, the smiles lingering on their faces.

"I would - I would like that." Sherlock nodded, swallowing, his throat dry from nervousness.

"Okay." Elizabeth nodded, fiddling with the ring on her one finger again as she so often did when she was nervous.

Sherlock almost hesitated, "For clarity?"

"For clarity."

Both took a step towards each other so that they were mere inches from each others faces. Her two blue pools stared into his chameleon-like eyes. Sherlock noted that her pupils were blown - a notable sign of attraction. He guessed that his probably would be too. Shadows danced on the side of Sherlock's face, courtesy of the fire, defining his stunning features even more. Elizabeth thought he looked edgy with the shifting shade but he still looked beautiful.

Again, both their gazes lingered on each other's lips for a moment, before they let their eyes close and leaned forwards.

They met in the middle with a kiss that seemed to make their surroundings fall away until it was just them, alone, in that moment.

This time, the kiss was soft and slow, full of clarity in a way that words could never be. Sherlock was once again stunned by this feeling, the chemicals in his brain being set alight with oxytocin. He found his hands resting on her hips once again, as the thief's one hand caressed his curls while the other lay on his chest. Elizabeth never wanted the moment to end. Never had an intimate moment such as this felt so electric to her before.

They pulled away, breathing a little more heavily as they let their foreheads touch. Nervous smiles brushed their lips. They laughed through their noses.

"Do you know what I think?" Elizabeth asked quietly, still looking Sherlock in the eyes.

"What?"

"That kiss was a lot better without the moustache."

*  *  *  *  *  *

"Look at them, Seb. Look at how they just melted in each other's arms...it's sickening." Jim grimaced at their intimate moment, "How could he love her? A thief. A criminal's confidante. The pinnacle of what our dearest detective is trying to eradicate."

Seb would argue that she wasn't the pinnacle. Maybe more so an after thought, being a thief and all, rather than a serial killer or terrorist. Of course, he would never argue this aloud. Sebastian simply stayed silent as the they watched them from the rooftop opposite.

"You know, I won't lie though. It is fun to watch the detective dance. First with Dr Watson, then with Ms Adler, and now with my Lizzie." He scoffed, "First he tries to take away my fun and then he takes my thief - the cheek! Oh, but he'll regret it. Elizabeth will come straight back to me and he will be left alone."

Seb closed his eyes for a moment. As loyal as he was to Jim, he had to question him sometimes. He saw Elizabeth as a dead weight - she wouldn't come back. How could Jim be so sure? Jim had mentioned a back up plan in case she didn't come back but even he didn't know what it was. And he was Jim's right-hand man!

"Jim?"

"Yes, Seb?"

"I know you've known Elizabeth for a long time but - how can you really be sure that she's going to come running back to you? She's already mixed up with that lot," He nodded to the window of 221B, "And she thinks you want to kill her. How can you be so sure she will come back?"

Jim was quiet for a moment. His dark, beady eyes watched the thief and detective, who were still holding each other in their arms, with an eerie stillness. Seb could see the anger was there but that was the thing with Jim - while he could be unnerving when he let his anger show through his shouting, nothing was scarier than seeing that dead, controlled look of fury in his eyes.

Very quietly, the psychopath answered, "If she betrays me again, then I will break her. I will ruin her and everything she thinks she is building because if I can't have her, then no one can."