I haven't seen or heard from Sherlock all week long. Heh, I'm starting to think that maybe he thinks he doesn't have to make so much zedding effort now we're engaged. If he thinks that he's gonna find out how wrong he can be.

Where the zed is he? Every time my phone rings I hope it's him - even though I've given him his own special ring tone - and I wish he'd hurry up and call. Zed! How hard can it be?

When Watson proposed to Chelsea, he didn't disappear afterwards like he'd caught her and didn't have to worry any more. They'd go out almost every night - they still do! - why the zed am I stuck here, staring at my zedding phone?

I'm just starting to pace when I hear a car door slam. I can't get to the window fast enough. Yes! It's his car! About zedding time Holmes! You're gonna get both zedding barrels now.

I get away from the window and put the kettle on. He'll sure as zed want a cup of tea. I'm not gonna shout at him the second he gets in through the door. I'm not completely heartless.

I've just poured the hot water into our cups when two strong but skinny arms wrap themselves around me. I'd say he's lucky as zed I didn't have the kettle in my hand, but I know him better than that - he was watching me and waited for me to put it down.

"Good evening Beth," the most annoying man I ever met whispers in my ear. "Did you miss me?"

I elbow him roughly.

"Ow!"

"Is that a trick question?" I snap at him as I spin on the spot to face him. "I've been worried sick! Where the zed've you been?"

He's holding his side where I poked him. "I would have called had it been possible."

"What's wrong? I didn't jab you that hard, did I?"

Holmes grimaces and slowly lowers his hand to his side. He's hurt! "No. You simply surprised me; I anticipated a kiss, not a poke to the stomach."

"I'm not a zedding idiot Sherlock - I can see you're hurt. Has John or Watson had a look at you?"

He raises an eyebrow at me. "You are as observant as ever I see. Yes, I have permitted John to tend to me and I can assure you that it is nothing serious."

"Uh-huh. I've heard that before. You'd pass zedding pneumonia off as a 'sniffle' if you thought you could get away with it. What's wrong, huh? No, it's OK; I'll just ask John - I know he'll tell the truth."

He sniffs. "I do not lie."

I snort. "Well, when it comes to your health you sure as zed don't tell the truth. What d'you call that? 'Fibbing'?"

He glares back at me but doesn't answer. I'll chalk that up as a point to Team Lestrade then.

"Well? Gonna tell me, or do I have to call John? Don't think I won't Holmes," I pull my phone out of my pocket to make sure he knows I mean it. "I'll call him now, if you want."

"It is nothing really," he assures me quickly, in his smooth, reassuring way and a smile that's meant to say that he's either fine or going to be. "A mere trifle as a result of my own clumsiness."

Uh-huh. I'm used to this track as well. I just fold my arms, tap my foot and quirk an eyebrow at the guy. "Holmes..."

"I fell off of a roof - a low roof - onto another roof. It could have been much worse."

"Zed! That's a no-brainer! What were you doing on a zedding roof, low or not?"

He rubs at his side again - it must be sore. "Chasing a criminal - an agent of Moriarty's."

"And?"

"Oh," he flashes me one of his dazzling smiles that can nearly - but only nearly - make me forgive anything. "We caught him. He is being held at New Scotland Yard. Would you like to visit him?"

"That's good, but it isn't what I meant. What happened after you fell off the roof?"

"Hum. Your ancestor was tenacious as well," he mutters, tutting. "He would not have made such a fuss though; as long as we caught our criminal..."

I could slap him - I really could! "My ancestor wasn't engaged to be married to you - there's a difference. Now what happened?"

He shrugs and sniffs again. "It was raining and the roof was slippery - my shoes could not grip the tiles."

"And I'm guessing you didn't even think about using a rope. No, o' course not. You're Sherlock zedding Holmes, why would you need a rope? Zed! You know, sometimes I think I'm gonna be your widow before I get to be your wife! Why can't you just be careful?"

He shrugs. "In my day, there was no such thing as Health and Safety; it is difficult for me to remember such things."

I really could punch him! If he wasn't already hurt I might not be able to help myself. Zed! He drives me crazy!

"I am sorry Beth. I did not realise that I had done anything wrong," he gives me another little smile.

I can't keep it up. I just can't stay mad at him. Still, I'd better see that he knows why I'm so mad while I still am. "You haven't called - or even emailed or texted me - all week. D'you realise how worried I've been? Zed Sherlock! How can you stand there and say you didn't know you'd done anything wrong?"

Ha! That's wiped that smile off his face. He's holding up his hands now and he looks sorry. "My sincerest apologies my dear, but it was unavoidable. When one is up against Moriarty, one must be on one's guard; I did not dare contact you for fear of putting you in danger..."

"Zed! I've never heard such crap! I'm a Yardie Sherlock - I face danger every single zedding day!"

He blushes and looks at his feet. "You are also my fiancée. I cannot help it Beth - I love you and wish to keep you as safe as is possible."

So that's it. I sigh and pull him in close to me, being careful of his hurt side. "Yeah, OK, I get it. It's just... I love you too and I wanna know that you're OK and stuff. You could at least send a text now 'n' again, to let me know how you are."

He nods quietly and sniffs again.

"Got a cold Holmes?"

"No." He wouldn't admit it if he did.

"Good; you won't mind giving me a kiss then."

He doesn't either, so he's definitely not feeling bad. I smile and hug him when we're done.

"I am sorry that I frightened you," he whispers. "It was not my intention."

'Course it wasn't! He's not malicious. He just doesn't always think about how other people feel - especially when he's trying to protect them.

"Am I forgiven?"

I shrug. "Guess so." Why should I give in too easy?

"I cannot help being the way that I am Beth. And you did know me quite well enough before I proposed to you. Why are you angry now?"

I shove him away. "Because you also know me you idiot! We've worked together enough - you know I can handle myself!"

"I am truly sorry. Very sorry."

I wish he wouldn't use that tone with me! He knows it always makes me feel like a zed head just for shouting at him.

"Just... Just think a bit more about how I feel, OK? That's all I want."

He nods with his eyes down. They're a little shiny.

"What is it Sherlock?"

He swallows awkwardly. "I do think of you, you know. It is just that..." he stuffs his hands in his pockets and tilts his head back, closing his eyes. "Moriarty... Moriarty might have killed Watson while we were in Switzerland together. I knew it well enough and tried to send him away but my words upset him and I could not bring myself to insist. I could have lost him Beth! It could have been so very different..."

"Holmes," I touch his shoulder and squeeze it gently. "You can't keep torturing yourself over what might've happened, OK? It never does anyone any good."

He nods and shrugs his shoulders. "I know. I cannot help it. I do not - I could not lose either one of you Beth. I..." he shakes his head and looks away. "I do not believe that my heart could bear it."

So that's it! I wrap my arms around him and hold him close. "If you let us work with you, you won't lose us. Now, let me make us a fresh cup o' tea; I'll bet the ones I started are stewed as zed."

He really does drive me crazy, but at least we understand each other now. I always thought that Holmes is a lot softer behind that cold mask of his than most people'd ever suspect, but he's even surprised me!

We sit down together, drink our tea and talk about other things. At least we both know how the other one feels now.