“ Sometimes I’m not particularly patient with Sherlock and all the time he takes to think about things. Sometimes, I need his attention, just for a little while, right when I want it. I’m normally the one to make compromise, to allow him another hour or two to himself, to avoid nagging about eating, to make sure that all of his things are left the way he wants them even if they’re a right mess. But there are times when he’s sitting, staring off into space, and I almost feel jealous that he can focus so hard on something other than me for so long. I’ll distract him from his mind palace or his microscope or his files, and demand his attention, and while he used to complain about it and push me away, he now allows it at least for a few minutes. He’ll kiss me, and let me tip him back, or press me backward to the sofa or a counter or our bookshelf, but he always reminds me he’s got work to do. That’s alright. He would’ve ignored anyone else. But he allows me to steal his attention occasionally and that’s all I can ask of him.”