John Watson entered his flat and threw his jacket on the floor. He walked into the kitchen and returned to the sitting room, taking a long draught from a bottle of beer. From the sofa, Mary glanced up from the book in her hands.
"You okay?"
John toed off his shoes and kicked them against the wall.
"Not okay, then."
John shot a glare at his wife and sat down on the far end of the sofa. "Can't be too bad. At least, I still have a place to sit."
Rolling her eyes, Mary placed her book on the coffee table. "So, is Sherlock recovering?"
"Sherlock? You mean 'Shezza'? Or are you asking about 'Sherl'? Because, trust me, Sherl is fine."
"Sherl?"
"Yup." John took another drink from the bottle.
"You obviously need to get something off your chest," Mary ventured in an encouraging tone.
"Nope."
"John." Now Mary's tone matched the brusqueness of her husband's.
John put down his half-empty bottle of beer on the table and ran his hands over his face. "Sherlock is obsessing over some creepy blackmailer. Shezza is indulging in old habits. Sherl has redecorated the flat and is fucking your chief bridesmaid. He's doing just fine."
Mary burst into giggles. "Sherlock is not having sex with Janine."
"She walked out of his room wearing only one of his shirts and shared the bathroom with him." John was almost yelling in his exasperation.
Mary still smiled as she softly asked, "So?"
"And then she curled up on his lap and … cuddled… him." The disbelief in John's voice made his statement sound like a question.
Mary nodded. "Well, that does seem like over-selling it a bit."
"You are not taking this seriously."
"Should I?"
"They even kissed good-bye. Several times, I might add." Now John's voice was tinged with something he hoped did not sound like bitterness.
As she curled her legs underneath her on the sofa, Mary laughed. "Was it convincing?"
"Mary!"
She rested her head against the sofa cushions and stared keenly at her husband. "Why does this bother you so much?"
"It doesn't bother me." John grabbed the bottle from the table and emptied it in one go.
"You're drinking beer before 11 am."
John looked around him, thinking back to when his weeping neighbor sat where he was now. He rubbed his eyes. "God, it seems so much later than that."
"Did you sleep alright?"
John hesitated. He had a flicker of memory of chasing Sherlock across London and feeling so very alive. He had not seen his best friend since the wedding, hesitating to make contact once he returned from the honeymoon. John figured Sherlock would have texted him if he was needed for a case. There were several unsent texts in John's phone, variations of "why did you leave the reception so quickly?" he was afraid to send. But Sherlock remained in his thoughts, always, promising excitement his married life could not give him. Glancing at Mary, John felt vaguely guilty for the number of times he lay next to his wife dreaming of Sherlock.
Of course, his clever Mary probably already knew.
"From your silence, I'll assume you slept poorly and that's part of the reason you're being a bastard today."
John glared at Mary. "I did just find my best friend in a drug den."
"Oh, so you actually are upset about that. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten in your fuss over Janine."
"Look, it was unexpected."
"I'll say," Mary smirked.
"Why are you reacting like this is a joke?"
"Why are you reacting like Sherlock being in a relationship is the end of the world?"
"Because he doesn't feel that way about people!"
Mary gave John a look he was used to seeing on Sherlock's face, the "you are an idiot"-look. "How can you say that about him?"
"Because…" John trailed off.
Mary leaned towards him and pointed a finger in John's direction. "You don't want to think about Sherlock caring about people, John. You know you don't. You don't want to face just how much that man can care for someone."
"Not really my place."
"Sounds like you want it to be." She settled back against the cushions.
The silence stretched between them.
Eventually, John muttered, "One month, one month is all it took."
"For him to go on drugs or for him to find someone to ease his loneliness?"
John sighed. "I'm upset about the drugs."
"Right." Mary appeared thoughtful. "Did he use while he was gone?"
John shook his head. "No, not according to Mycroft."
Mary laughed harshly. "So what you're really saying is it only took one month of John Watson's marriage to drive Sherlock Holmes back to his previous addiction."
Hearing the implication of the word previous, John sucked in a sharp breath as Mary continued. "You have a very high opinion of your role in his life." In a sing-song voice, she said, "John Watson, the one man Sherlock Holmes would risk everything for, the one man he can't live without, the one he loves above all others."
"Stop it."
"So you're not jealous about being replaced by Janine and cocaine? That wasn't what this fit is all about?"
John closed his eyes. "I just want him to be alright."
Mary replied, "And so do I."
"If Janine can make him happy, of course I'd want that for him."
"I want him to be well and happy, too." Mary scooted across the sofa and squeezed John's knee. "You know I adore Sherlock."
John looked gratefully at his wife and placed his hand over hers. "That's one of the many things I love about you." It was the truth. When Sherlock had made his unexpected return into John's life, Mary had helped to reforge their friendship and genuinely cared for Sherlock. John was so thankful he had never been forced to choose between the two most important people in his life.
"But you have to know this thing with Janine must be some big misunderstanding. Sherlock would never enter a relationship with…" Mary paused, and John waited for her to complete her thoughts. Mary gazed around the room and gnawed on her lower lip. "Unless it's for a…"
To John's surprise, a bleak expression crossed Mary's lovely face, before she grinned at him. "I just don't think Janine's his type, that's all."
Her forced lightness reminded John that Janine was also her friend and Mary would not want to see her hurt. John suddenly felt the urge to reassure the woman at his side. He squeezed her hand and said, "They want to do dinner. They would have asked before, apparently, but they wanted their relationship to be a surprise for us."
Mary's smile dimmed. "Really."
"Yeah. Guess they got their wish."
"Indeed." Mary murmured. She removed her hand from John's and toyed with her hair, still wet from a recent bath.
John stood up, stretching his arms high above him. "By the way, I'm going on a case with Sherlock tonight. I think it would be good to spend some time together. Maybe I'll get a better understanding of what is actually going on with him. That okay with you?"
"Of course."
"God, I need to take a shower." John leaned over to kiss Mary on the top of the head. "I'll text you tonight if I'm going to be very late."
Mary smiled brightly up at her husband. "Don't worry, I'll keep busy. I have an errand I've been meaning to get around to since the wedding."