Nerds of a feather{REQUESTS OPEN}

"I dont have friends"

A/N: for all my Sherlock brethren who just need some good old-fashioned johnlock. Although I love Mary so much, she is the best.

John and Sherlock sat across from each other on the train that sped through the green countryside back into London. Having just finished their case at Baskerville both men were ready for a day or so of rest, or in Sherlock's case experiments, before another client came their way.

"You're thinking again" Sherlock murmured to John. His eyes were closed and hands steepled in front of his chest, elbows resting on the armrests, and long fingers perfectly still, despite the movement of the train.

"Yes well... A lot to think about after a case like that."

"What do you mean? There was a man who wanted to keep a secret and he nearly drove another one mad to achieve his goal. Hardly the most stimulating of crimes I must say, although this one did prove to be a bit more interesting because of the tools at our perpetrators disposal."

"It's not the crime that got me thinking Sherlock. It was what you said in the graveyard. 'I don't have friends'. Of course you do! Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Lestrard, even Mycroft if you both would get over yourselves for five minutes. Sherlock, people do care about you, wether you see it or not with your bloody 'powers of observation'."

"You're forgetting what I said after that John" he opened his eyes, "I only have one". He looked directly into his partner's eyes, locking gazes for several seconds before closing his own once more.

John felt an odd sense of giddiness that Sherlock cared for him as someone more than a colleague,as a true friend, well...knowing Sherlock it was most likely that John was the least annoying person to him the majority of the time, but with Sherlock you took what you could get. There was always that possibility that Sherlock was being genuine, and that was what made John have just a bit more hope for himself.It was getting more and more often that John felt an unreasonable sense of happiness from his friend's approval.

"Well... You'd better bloody believe I'm your friend." John grumbled as he crossed his arms and shifted in his seat to find a nice sleeping position. With his eyes closed he didn't see Sherlock crack open one eye and smile slightly at John.

They both were soon lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the train. Both with small smiles on their faces.