A/N: Canon sucks so I fixed it. My heart was broken after the episode ended. My first attempt at Marylock. The title of this fic is inspired by the musical "Hamilton" (as you all know I'm a big fan).
THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH
Mary knew there was a very good reason why Sherlock had asked her to come to the abandoned church. It meant there was something seriously wrong. Possible danger. She had gone there before, it was her bolthole. She hated going out in this stormy weather, worried about Rosie and how she would react to it. Would she cry? Would she enjoy hearing the rain sounds?
Sherlock was sitting on the bed and stood up when he saw her.
"Mary."
He said her name always in a special kind of way, a way he only used for Mary. The way he said her name made her feel warm inside.
"I have to talk to you," He said, "I have found something."
"I need to tell you something, "she said.
"Please, tell."
"John's cheating on me." She suddenly felt very defeated. Sadness and anger rose within her.
"What?" Sherlock looked seriously hurt. He pulled her to him and hugged her. She cried.
"He's been texting with a woman, E. I found the paper with her number on the kitchen table a couple of days ago, he's been texting her non-stop. He's coming home late after work, telling me he's been with you," she made a hand gesture, "but I know he isn't. I am an intelligence agent, I know when someone is lying to me."
"I am so, so sorry, Mary," Sherlock said, holding Mary even tighter.
"Don't be. I knew this day would come. I have married a womanizer, I knew that from the beginning."
"That is not an excuse to cheat on you."
"No, I know. I just feel like my past has destroyed everything we ever had."
"What happened to 'the problems of your future are my privilege'?"
She looked up. "He told you that? I shouldn't be surprised, really."
Sherlock looked at the blonde woman in his arms. "What can I do for you, Mary?"
"Hold me just a little longer" she whispered.
He gave in to her request. She rested her head on his chest; he could smell her perfume, her rosy scent. He hadn't held a woman like this in a very long time and he was surprised how good it actually felt.
After what felt like an eternity, she looked up. Her gaze locked his, they looked at each other intensely. He lowered his head, she leaned in. Then, their lips touched.
Sherlock was surprised by this sudden act but gave in completely. She kissed him so tenderly, he felt complete. Time had frozen, the world had stopped spinning. It was just the two of them, in their own bubble. Sherlock remembered how much he missed having a woman in his life.
She broke the kiss. "Sherlock," she whispered.
"I know," he whispered back, "I know it's bad. You're married to my best friend. This is not right." His heart felt something different and he was still holding the blonde nurse.
"He told me he wants a divorce," she whispered, "I will never be Mary Watson again."
"I can help you be Mary Holmes instead," he offered.
She chuckled. "John would kill you."
Sherlock looked at his shoes. "I have something to tell you." He let go of her and held up the A.G.R.A. memory stick.
"How did you get that?" She said surprised.
Sherlock explained everything. She sighed. "I thought I had found peace."
"Look around, we're lucky to be alive," Sherlock answered.
"We need to go," she said, "If Ajay's truly after me, we need to leave."
"John stays here. I talked about this. We're going to a safe house."
"Wait, what?" Mary said surprised.
"Mycroft," Sherlock answered.
A car had arrived outside in the meantime. Rosie was sound asleep in her seat. They drove to Paris, where they got on a plane to Denmark, then to Belarus, and from Belarus to Trondheim, Norway.
"I used to come here," Mary told Sherlock, "One of my boltholes, actually."
"We're not staying in Trondheim. We're going to Hell."
Mary raised her eyebrows.
Sherlock opened the door of the safe house. It was a nice cottage, with a sea view.
"Look, Rosie, it's the sea," Mary was holding Rosie, pointing at the sea. Rosie had her eyes open, not fully awake yet.
"Hello, Watson," Sherlock said to Rosie, "Welcome to Norway." He opened the door of the house, "Here we are."
The house was small but big enough for four people. There were a small kitchen and a living room with a television. There were two bedrooms, one was completely equipped for a baby.
"Seems like we have to share," Mary said, "I don't mind."
"Me neither."
They went to bed shortly after that. Rosie was asleep in the other room, exhausted from traveling. Sherlock wore a pair of blue silk pajamas with a matching dressing gown. John had packed Mary's bags, he had basically packed her entire wardrobe. She sighed when she saw the five suitcases. "How am I going to find something to wear?"
"John labeled all suitcases," he pointed at a green one, "that's underwear and pj's."
"Thanks," she said, picked a pair and went to the bathroom. He heard the shower turning on when Rosie suddenly started crying. He got up.
"Goddad is coming, Rosie," he mumbled. The little girl reached her arms out to Sherlock, immediately silent when she saw her godfather. Sherlock consoled her. "Ssh, sweetheart. Mummy's showering, she'll be back soon. Why are you crying?" He looked at the baby. "Do you miss your father?" Sherlock shrugged. "You cannot talk and I fear the day you will. I wonder if you're going to sound like your mother or father." He kept talking to the baby, about the different types of tobacco ash and Redbeard and why he loved dogs so much. Mary stood in the doorway for a while, watching Sherlock and her newborn daughter. He already showed so much more love than John had ever done. Every night, she was the one who had to console Rosie whilst he was texting that damned woman of him. Rosie fell asleep; Sherlock put her back in bed. He smiled at Mary.
They went back to bed and fell asleep in each other's arms.
They woke up around 9 am the next morning. Mary had settled for Sherlock's arms and never wanted to get out of bed. She smiled.
"You're the only one who can see right through me," he told her.
"We only think alike."
"Mycroft texted me, he told me that they caught Ajay. He only told them that there was an English woman on the phone who told him the word 'ammo'."
"English woman," Mary repeated.
"I texted Mycroft to tell him to interrogate Lady Smallwood."
"Her codename is 'love', right? And 'ammo' could be 'amo', I love, in Latin."
Sherlock smiled. "That's my girl."
"What's the problem now?" Mary asked.
"Lady Smallwood didn't know what Mycroft was talking about, and I can assure you, Mycroft was thorough. Now we are left with the following question: who is the English woman?"
Mary and Sherlock looked at each other a couple of seconds before they blurted "the secretary" out.
Sherlock kissed her forehead. "Perfect."
Rosie was crying, so Mary got up. "I'm actually surprised she slept the entire night."
"She feels safe," Sherlock answered.
Mary smiled.
Twenty minutes later, Mary had finished making breakfast. Sherlock fed Rosie, Mary set the table.
"Thank you," Sherlock said when Mary put the plate in front of him, keeping his eyes on his goddaughter, "Have you slept well, little Watson?"
Mary watched the two, wondered where Sherlock's protective-father side suddenly came from. She'd never seen him this gentle. She took Rosie over.
"How long do we need to stay here?" Mary asked.
Sherlock gave her his phone. "Call Mycroft, he will explain. Do tell him that the secretary did it."
Mary chuckled. "He already knows I'm an A.G.R.A. agent. I don't have to prove my intelligence to him, unlike you."
She dialed Mycroft. "Hello, Mycroft. Yes, it's Mary. We have found out who the English woman is. The secretary of Lady Smallwood, Vivian Norbury." She sighed. "Sherlock will speak to you in a moment, he will explain everything, just arrest her. That woman is dangerous."
She handed the phone to Sherlock who kept talking to him for about fifteen minutes, while Mary dressed Rosie. She wore a mini-suit, complete with jacket and trousers with a pink t-shirt. Sherlock had spent three days looking for a suit for Rosie. Mary picked usually more practical clothing for Rosie, onesies or dresses, but she had seen the look on the godfather's face when he came with the gift to the Christening. She had seen his determination to get Rosie a suit. He tried to get her a magnifying glass, but John had forbidden that.
"She's wearing my suit," he said, surprised, "You are beautiful," he told Rosie.
Rosie stared at him. "She likes it," Mary said, "What did Mycroft say?"
"We can return to England if we want, it's safe."
Mary kissed Sherlock briefly. "I want to stay here, with you."
"That can be arranged." Sherlock looked at Mary and Rosie, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"We saved each other," she answered simply, "That will be enough."