Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes- the stories or any movie versions. I also don't own the story that inspired this one shot.

Warning: M rating for language and sex references. This story contains references to male/male relationship between Dr. John Watson and Detective Sherlock Holmes. It also mentions gambling habits and drug abuse.

A/N: I've been reading "The Heart Wants" (story id 5770103) by Dollymop (profile id 1341936). I love this fic; it's very creative and enjoyable. I'm anxious to see the next chapter. Her story has inspired this one-shot, specifically Chapter 16 entitled "Those Words". This missing scene takes place between Chap. 16 and 17. I guess you could call it 16 ½. Here's a brief background: Dr. Watson has gotten married to Mary Moriarty but he is still having an affair with Holmes. He has been denying it to her but she finally saw it with her own eyes. In Chap. 16, she comes to confront Holmes. That's all the background you get because you should really read her fic. Holmes's thoughts are in italics, the words in bold come directly from Dollymop's story.

I guess you could read up to Chap. 16, then read this again and rejoin her story at Chap. 17. Yeah that should work. Thanks for letting me borrow a part of your story. 8)

What she doesn't know

Detective Sherlock Holmes sat in the stillness of the room that had taken him hours to clean. He tried his best to rid it of the blood and ugliness of previous events. He should go and rest or maybe bathe first then rest. However, after Mary's visit he was too stunned and angered to move to another room. He relit his pipe and tried to take a few calming puffs.

"I want to speak to you." She said. "I want to speak to you about my husband."

"That damn woman! Some nerve she has. She had the audacity, the audacity to come into my home and in the middle of the night. A proper woman would not be out this time of the night." He complained to the air. The conversation freshly replayed in his mind.

"Oh?" He said nonchalantly. "What about him?"

"I know what crime you have committed."

"What do you mean?" He heard himself ask stupidly.

"Do not toy with me, Mr. Holmes." She said, her eyes sharp. "I mean unnatural acts between members of the same sex. I mean unspeakable offences against God." Her lips thinned. "Sodomy."

"Sodomy, humph." He scoffed. "Is that all she thinks it is? Just sex? What does she know? What does she know of sex and love and us?"

"You believe Watson and I partakers in sodomy?" He asked, forcing himself to keep calm and deflect her accusation until he could be sure of she had even hard proof or was just acting on jealous suspicion.

"I know." She said icily. "I saw it with my own eyes, Mr. Holmes. I could not mistake what I saw."

"Probably jealous that I have felt Watson's dick more than she has. That is my kiss she tastes, if she gets to kiss him at all. Those are my marks on his back. That's my name he whispers in his sleep. My name." He smiled a small evil grin of satisfaction. "And whose fault is that, eh? Certainly not mine. A real woman, who loved her husband who do whatever, absolutely whatever she could to make sure he stayed home."He sprang up from his chair and began pacing the floor. "I know what he likes. I know what gets him going. I know. I know how to kiss him and caress him. I know how to suck him. I bet she never even tired, probably doesn't even know he likes it, how he loves it." Holmes walked in a circle, smirking at his knowledge and pride. "Hell, I even know what it's like to be inside him and control him. I could have given her some bloody pointers on the art of making John Waston come, if she had asked nicely."

Holmes swallowed. "You saw it?"

"Clear as day." She said coolly.

"Preposterous." He said with a weak laugh. "Watson would never-"

"Don't you dare try and tell me I'm wrong." She said poisonously. "That my husband would never do such as thing, my husband would never betray me, never do anything so hurtful and deceitful." She laughed bitterly. "The kindest thing my husband has done since we were married is admit what he had done without lying to me as you have done."

"She said I lied. I was trying to protect my dear Watson. Me, the people will forget about, but not him. He's the great Dr. Watson, a healer, in more ways than one. Not everything he heals requires medicine." Holmes's expression and heart seemed to soften for a moment when he thought of John's tender, gentleness. Not at Mary but at the kind, beautiful man that John Watson is.

"What do you want from me? If you already know it for truth, why do you come here for an admission?"

"I did not come here to question you. I came to appeal to your human decency." She took a shuddery breath. "If you have any."

"Appeal to me to do what?"

"Leave my husband alone." She said simply.

"'Leave my husband alone' she says. She said as if it was as simple as taking out the trash. She's a simpleton. It will not be easy; it is not easy. 'Leave him alone. Leave him alone.' How dare she ask me to leave him alone? How dare she! Leaving him alone leaves me alone." The detective's heart felt heavy with sadness and fear. He leaned against the mantle for support as he felt his legs weaken beneath him.

"What?"

"End it. Do not speak to him. Do not let him come to you. Do not make an attempt to see him. Make him think you have abandoned him."

"Abandon him? I could never. Never..."His voice trailed off as he ran the meaning of the word repeatedly in his mind. Abandon: to give up completely, to desert. "Give him up completely? Cold turkey as they say? After what he has done for me? After what we have meant to each other? He would never believe that I, Sherlock Holmes, would abandon him."

"Why would I do such a thing? I love-"

"Do it because you love him."

"Do it because I love him? Is she insane? She must be. Fucking insane. Mary wants me to leave the only love I have ever known. The only love I could ever think of knowing. I cannot. I simply cannot." Sherlock can feel the tears in the back of his eyes.

"What?"

"You know that what has gone on between you and him has no future. You know that you and him cannot be together. You know that you would damn him to a life as an outcast. You would make him a sinner." She paused. "Leave him and know that you have done what is best for him."

"How can I leave him? She says she can't live without him, yet she expects me to? How can I live without him? He is my balance, my voice of reason. He is my everything." His voice cracks and Holmes can no longer control the tears that he has been holding back. They fall in anger at Mary, they fall in fear of the unknown- not knowing if he will ever find love again, not knowing if he will find his way back to the drugs, not knowing if he can live without seeing and hearing him. They fall in sadness.

Through his tears, he finally found his way to his bed, the one he so lovingly shared with John. He collapses on his back, looking at the ceiling wishing John were there to wipe away those tears. Detective Sherlock Holmes didn't cry often, probably not since childhood. He reached for the pillow that held John's head. He could still smell him- the cologne, the soap his used in practice, sweat, the musk of lovemaking.

As he laid his own head on it, Sherlock pretended that it was John's chest and he could hear his heartbeat. He closed his eyes and swore his could feel the doctor's hand running through his hair. The tears were past uncontrollable. The sobbing, so great that the detective's slim body shook. He tried to hear John's voice comfort him, but all he could hear was Mary saying, so coldly "Leave my husband alone." Fatigue from cleaning, arguing and crying finally took over and he slept.

Sherlock slept longer than he intended to but his body needed it. Mrs. Hudson was both impressed and worried at the cleanliness of the room. Something had to be wrong. She began searching the room for the hidden secret, while trying her best not to move anything from its original place. She could find nothing wrong until she started fluffing the pillows and overturned the one in the chair with the blood. She shook her head.

"I knew there was something. Why didn't he ask me for help in cleaning it? Probably too embarrassed. I guess they assume I don't know what's going on. I just choose not to say anything. As long as the rent is paid and the place is not on fire, their lives belong to them." She carried the pillow out of the room and down to the washroom. She had a special solvent that she used to clean the sex stains from the detective's sheets and clothing. The blood should come out with no problem.

It was well after noon when Holmes woke and began stirring. Mrs. Hudson had prepared lunch for him. Though his stomach was growling, he didn't feel much like eating. There was too much on his mind. He calmly let his mind go back to the conversation- no the demands- of Mary Watson. She said John had admitted to her what they had done. He wondered if he had ever admitted to her what he felt. Did John ever tell her how much Holmes meant to him? Anything of the things they had gone through for each other? He doubted the she knew. And they say ignorance is bliss. Her ignorance was not bliss; it was heartbreaking. Breaking all of their hearts.

I wonder would she change her mind if she knew. Would she allow us to still be who we need to be for each other if she knew? If she understood? Could we exist together, the three of us? Perhaps he could still be her husband, taking care of her with his practice and taking care of their children. I wonder if I would have to help him sleep with her? He shuddered at that thought. A few knocks at the door brought him out of his thought. His heart felt light that it might be John, coming to him for good after leaving Mary. He opened it to find an old friend.

"Ah, Madam Sabrina. What an odd surprise."

"Yes, I know. But I was reading my cards this morning and you came into my mind so I am making a house call."

"Free of charge?"

"Yes."

"By all means, come in." He stepped aside and let the fortuneteller inside. "Please have a seat." He motioned to the chair with the good cushions not knowing what Mrs. Hudson had done. "Now, you said I came to your mind this morning. Does this happen often?"

"You coming to my mind? Never. Other clients, yes."

"So what can I help you with?"

"Actually I've come to help you." His eyebrows rose in interest. "You've got to let him go."

"What? Let who go?" He looked at her startled and then wondered if Mary had been to see her. "Did Mary Watson pay you to come here and put a spell on me to leave her husband?"

"No, I don't know a Mary Watson and I don't do spells. I just read what the palms and cards tell me." Holmes gave her a disturbed look.

"How do I know that?"

"Let me tell you what I saw. This man in your life has two lives. He needs to be with his wife. You have to let him go…" Holmes opened his mouth to say something but she raised her hand that she wasn't finished. "In order to find out if he is for you, you have to let him go. The old adage is true. If you love something, let it go and if it is yours, it will come back to you. It works the same way with people." He sighed and tears began to well up.

"But I can't. I'll be so weak without him."

"My dear Holmes, the best way to show your strength is to let go. By doing this, you make room for that person to either come back or make room for someone new."

"You don't understand. His wife doesn't even know what we mean to each other. Believe me, she could care less."

"Tell her. Let her know and while you do that, you'll remind him. You'll let them both know what it's taking for you make this step." He shook his head in rebellion. "Since he has problems deciding, you be the bigger person and walk away. Make the decision for him. And if it was meant to be, it will be."

"I'm afraid. Afraid of what will happen if it's not to be."

"Then the fates will send you what you need." Holmes sat there, stumped and silent. She knew her words had hit home and things were starting to make sense to him. She rose, kissed his forehead, as she would have a child, and left the apartment.

Holmes thought about what he would say, what he should say. Would it even make any sense? Would either of them care? It didn't matter. Mary didn't know who they were to each other. The one night of pleasure she saw was no comparison to what they really felt for each other. He stood to go into his room and change. He checked "the pillow" from the chair and was shocked to find the stain was gone.

I tried to clean it. And try as I might, I know a wish wouldn't make it go away. Maybe…but if she did, then she knows. Horror and embarrassment struck his heart. How could he face her knowing that she knew? Just then, he heard the rustling of skirts behind him. He turned to face her.

"You should have asked for help cleaning it." She simply stated. He started to blush. "Oh, come now. I am not as daft as you wish me to be. I know what has been going on between you and the doctor. You don't think I see the stains when I do the laundry?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson. I didn't mean to put you in any uncomfortable predicament."

"Hogwash. Sometimes you are an uncomfortable predicament. However, you and the doctor are adults with your own lives. How you live them is your own business."

"So you are not damning us to hell? You won't be turning us in?"

"My dear Mr. Holmes, there are a lot of things in my 'job description' as landlady and housekeeper but sending people to hell and a snitch are not in them."

"You could get someone who pays rent better than I do, if you turned me in."

"True. But I wouldn't make the extra money I do with the washer girls when they make bets on whether or not the stains will come out of your sheets." He laughed at that statement.

"You gamble? What do you do with the extra money?"

"Just on that. I buy the solvent that helps me remove the stains and occasionally new sheets when the stains won't come out. Sometimes I add it to the pot when your rent is late or you have done some kind of stupid damage to something."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." She nodded and left the room.

Sherlock Holmes was so deep in thought that he didn't realize that the cab had arrived at the home of the Watsons. He paid the driver and stood at the front door, scared as to what he might say. A young servant girl answered and let him in. She took him to the sitting room where Mary and John were sitting.

"Detective Holmes is here to see you." The couple looked up in surprise. John most of all. Sherlock was clean and clean-shaven. His clothes were impeccable and wrinkle free. He best guess was that he was trying to impress Mary.

"Good evening." He said, removing his hat.

"Holmes, what are you doing here? I could have come 'round to see you if you needed something."

"I came to speak to your wife. I've done some thinking and I had some advice from an old friend. But before I respond to and honor your request, you need to know something." John looked at Mary.

"You went to see Holmes? When was this? And what is this request business?"

"Late last night. And I asked Mr. Holmes to do something for me."

"I don't understand what's going on." John said sitting back down. Sherlock sat down on a chair opposite of them.

"I will attempt to explain it shortly." He turned to face Mary. "In my thinking about your request, I began to wonder if you know of anything that has gone on between John and I expect what you saw that night. It occurred to me that you have no idea who we are. You know our names but you don't know who we are, together." She looked confused for a moment.

"What do you mean Mr. Holmes?"

"Mary did you know that John used to have a severe gambling problem?" She opened her mouth in shock and looked at her husband. "I helped him get over it. He used to place bad bets, placed worse ones after he had been drinking and didn't know when to quit when he was ahead. Occasionally I would have to get into the ring and box to win the money back. Of course, he would patch me up after the matches were done. But I would have made his money back and then some." Mary gave her husband a shocked stare. "I helped him to better study his bets, to make surer bets and sometimes not to bet at all. I taught him to manage his money better. I taught him how to put some money back into his practice. If I hadn't you two would never have met because he would not have had any money in which to attract you."

"Holmes, how could you…" Sherlock raised a hand in continuance.

"Did you know I used to be addicted to drugs? Opiates were my choice. Then I moved to cocaine. And occasionally morphine that I would so quietly steal from his bag or office. Sometimes I would have some heroin. I would take something and be strung out for days on end. Not eating or sleeping. He has brought me back to life several times." Mary looked at them both in disbelief.

"I could have cared less about my appearance. Wrinkled clothes were just clothes to me. I would wear dirty clothes repeatedly. I could go for days without bathing. And sometimes that wasn't even drug induced."He paused. "At first I thought of John as a father figure, because I didn't really have a father. I thought only a father would care this much about his son's appearance but I soon discovered that this wasn't a father/son love between us.

He would patch me up after cases, confirm medical suspicions for me. He would even accompany me to questions suspects; gather information from the concerned parties. He would listen to me rant about anything and everything. He'd even listen to my awful violin playing when my heart wasn't in it."

"Holmes, where are you going with this?" Watson asked.

"John, I need her to know who we are to each other, before I…"

"Before you what?"

"Grant her request."

"What request? Mary? What is he talking about?" Before Mary could answer, Holmes spoke.

"Last night when she came to see me she asked me to leave you alone."

"You did what? You have no right to-" He boomed at her.

"You are my husband John; not his. I have every right to ask him to get out of our marriage."

"You do not have the right to ask my friend to stay away from me."

"John, please. Mary I have every intention of granting your request but I need you to know exactly how much we mean to each other."

"You do?"She asked.

"Holmes you can't-"

"I can and I will." He took a deep breath. "Mary this is so much deeper than just 'sodomy' as you so sickly put it. I love John and he loves me. What you saw was an expression of our love. I don't know exactly when it happened or why it happened but I for one am glad that it happened. I've never had anyone show me affection. I thought I was incapable of reciprocating because I had never experienced it."

"You mean to tell me that no one ever expressed love to you? Not even your parents?"

"They died when I was young and became the charge of someone who provided the basics- a roof, clothing, food, church and education. Love and nurture were not apart of the will." Mary wanted to feel pity for the detective, but not until she was sure, he was out of their marriage. "I began to see John in a different light. I was attracted his gentleness and his patience. He had compassion for me. His hands may have patched up my body but his heart patched up my life. He helped to heal me and I didn't know I was so broken." Tears welled up in his eyes. John understood him. If there was, anyone he trusted himself to cry in front of it was John. He did not want to cry in front of her.

"The first time we kissed we were a little drunk so neither of us thought anything of it. I tried it again a few days later when we were both stone sober and to my surprise, he kissed me back. At first, the thrill of kissing each other was all that we could wish for; it was more than enough. And one day it went a little further. And further still. He is the only person in this world who has sole possession of my innocence. Not only is he the first man I've ever been with, he is the first person I've ever been with sexually." Mary turned her head in disgust.

"Do you mean to say that he has taken your virginity?" Sherlock nodded. She looked at John and he nodded in agreement.

"He is my rock Mary. When I am confused, he helps me think. When I am lonely, he consoles me. When I crave intimacy, we make love. If it weren't for him, I would have been dead from an overdose long ago, which would be a better situation for you because he would just be mourning a friend. There would be no live person threatening your marriage." She scowled at his words. "You know, sometimes he even reads my mind. Without him, I don't know what will happen to me. I am as dependent on his love as you are. Knowing that he loves me keeps me grounded. I still get myself in trouble but having him in my life keeps the trouble down to a minimum. As long as I have him, I know I don't need the drugs. As long as I have him, I have a clearer thinking mind. I feel better about myself.

Asking me to leave him alone, to abandon him means I will be abandoning myself. I will be deserting myself. However, I will do it. I will deny myself the best thing that has ever happened to me."Sherlock's tears could no longer be contained. They began to flow down his cheeks. His voice cracked as he spoke. "John, I love you and because I love you I will let you go. You can't keep going back and forth between us and be happy. I want you happy. More than anything for myself, I've wanted to make you happy. Therefore, I will step out of the picture. Now your love and concern don't have to be split. You can give it all to Mary and not have to worry about someone dragging your name in the mire."

"Holmes I don't care what people say about me."

"But I do. I do John. Moreover, you care what they say about Mary, which is why you will not divorce her. I can see now that I'm just in the way. If we are meant to be then you will come back and we'll both know it. If not," he paused. "Then fate will hopefully bring someone else into my life."

"That's awfully adult of you Mr. Holmes." Mary said. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out some papers. "What are those?"

"The conditions of granting your request." He handed a set to each of them.

"Conditions? What do you mean Sherlock?" John asked.

"If I'm going to give you up, I have to know that your life will not lack anything." He opened it and began to read. "I, Sherlock Holmes, make a promise to meet the following conditions requested by Mary M. Watson. I will end my relationship with Dr. John Watson, her husband. I will not speak to him. I will not let him come to visit me. I will not make any attempts to see him." His tears flowed even more now, now that he realized the end was really coming. "In exchange for my abandoning Dr. John Watson, Mary M. Watson must promise to meet the following conditions: She will love him with all of her heart. She will listen to the events of his day. She will accompany him to visit patients. She will make sure the doctor receives an adequate amount of food and rest. She will make sure he continues to properly manage his money and provide for his practice and she will perform her wifely duties in the bedroom regularly."

"Holmes, I can't believe you put that in there!" Watson exclaimed. Mary looked it over.

"Where do I sign?"

"Mary you can't possibly sign this, this nonsense."

"I can and I will."

"You will need to sign all three copies. I have more to read before we sign." He took out his handkerchief and wiped his nose, but the tears still streamed. "In exchange of ending our relationship, I Sherlock Holmes, promise to keep the lessons I have learned from Dr. John Watson. I will find another doctor that will assist me in my experiments and patch up my wounds. I promise not to embarrass the memory of our relationship and I promise to stay away from drugs. Dr. John Watson must promise to not let his heart stray from his wife, family and practice. He must promise to stay away from Sherlock Holmes and his place of residence, wherever said residence may be. He must promise to remain a good husband, a good doctor and a proper civilized gentleman.

If any of the three parties violates any of the aforementioned conditions, these agreements are null and void and can be grounds for filing divorce papers concerning the Watsons."

"Now, I know you've gone mad. I'm not signing this."

"John you have to." Holmes said between sobs. "Please, John you have to. All three copies."

"And what will this prove huh?"

"That I should have forced you to go back home to Mary every time you showed up at my door. I should have prepared myself to let you go before you were married. You made a choice to live your life the correct way by getting married and I got in the way. I was selfish and I need you to be a husband. And if we were ever meant to be, then we will. But we have to start the process." He pulled a pen from his pocket and walked over the table. Mary joined him. She signed his copy first. His tears stained both copies as he signed them.

"John," he said quietly as he held out the pen. It was then Mary realized just how serious things really were between them. She just really thought it was all about sex. She had no ideas how much they loved each other. John now had tears in his eyes. He thought Holmes was making a good speech and just talking to please Mary, but this proved that the detective was serious.

"You really want me to sign this?"

"Yes, John you have to." He replied. He slowly walked over to the table, he signed their papers and they signed his. Holmes folded his and placed it back into his jacket pocket. Mary looked at Holmes.

"Thank you Mr. Holmes."

"Please don't flatter yourself and think that I did this for you. I did this for John and his life. I meant every word in it. The rest is up to the two of you." He turned to John. "I love you and I always will. I wouldn't know about the emotions of love if you had not taught me. Thank you John." He gently caressed John's cheek and then kissed him passionately, right in front of Mary. He then turned to her. "Good evening Mrs. Watson. I'll see myself out." He picked up his hat, left the sitting room and the Watson's marriage.

A/N2: Somewhat of a long one-shot, but I had to get it out. Don't forget to review this and to read the inspiration by Dollymop, "The Heart Wants".