Gosh, this is so interesting. I love your Sherlock voice; it's so unusual and weird and vivid.

“Yes, you were.” She went back to typing. “Your prose is almost Victorian at times.”

John set down his tea and picked up the remote. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s not.”

Bweehee!

Everything was tied up, no loose ends, all the pieces fit, each detail integral to a single solution, nothing pointless at all. Especially not John, John wasn’t pointless, John and methodical shuffle sounds: they all tied up; they all meant something; they meant the case being solved and almost dying, and Sherlock almost burned with lye. This made her feel very light, thinking about it.

There's something about this paragraph that I love, but don't know how to articulate. It just seems to encapsulate Sherlock's mental workings, somehow -- how she sees and what she needs; her own peculiar neurology. It's neat.

And the bee paragraphs: gorgeous.

The exchanges with Mycroft add shape as well as hilarity. I like.

You say pre-slash in your header (which is an odd choice of label), which makes me terribly curious about what a romantic and/or sexual relationship between them would look like.