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[Sherlock feels Joan shift closer to him. He doesn't move away from her, even when he can almost feel her breath against his back. Physical closeness. Warmth. Things like this are things he typically avoids, mostly because he's very much aware that letting someone (Joan) get so close to him on a physical level will only create a chemical cocktail in his brain that will make him feel even more compromised and conflicted.

'All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage'

'But sentiment, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.'

'I've always assumed love was a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof.'

Those and about a hundred other warnings coming in the form of various quotes he's either heard or said go through his mind.

Move. Move away.

But, he doesn't. He stays perfectly still, training his breathing. Feigning sleep. But for what? Joan's too tired to notice anything amiss. She's barely awake enough to seek the warmth, isn't she? He's pretending so he can savour this moment. This close almost affection, because it could be the last time. Tomorrow will be dangerous. The next six months could be dangerous.

And, maybe he's missed her more than he's allowed himself to realise.]