OPENING AUTHORESSIAL NOTE: Well, hello hello hello my pretties! Obligatory introductory note - call me A3. This will be my first fanfiction for the SH09 movie, though I am writing another fanfic at the moment that has '09 Holmes and Watson in it - but, that's not the point. The point is that the story which you are about to read was initially intended to be only a oneshot. A Mary-bashing oneshot. (While I ordinarily don't have much against Mary, the '09 movie Mary was a bit too smug for my liking.) But then it MUTINIED and became something that could clearly not be dealt with in merely one small chapter. So... here we go!

DISCLAIMER: Own Sherlock Holmes, I do not. Ciao, homies. :D

Miss Mary Morstan swept past him, paused by the door, and looked back over her shoulder at him, making eye contact – his brown gaze fusing with her green.

"He's mine now," she said with a smirk that he would have classified as "positively demonic." "He is well and truly mine, so you had just better keep your distance, Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"He was mine first," he retorted childishly from his chair, plucking at the strings of his violin with perhaps a bit more force than was wise or necessary. Miss Morstan noticed, and her smirk grew wider.

"There's being flatmates, Mr. Holmes, and then there's being engaged to be married. And if I have my way, you won't see him again. Ever." Her gaze narrowed. "You're a bad influence."

"So are you," he snapped, trying to hold back the ragged edge that threatened to attach itself to his voice. "You're a – you're a woman."

"And what are you?" she asked, arching one of her perfect blonde eyebrows, seemingly entirely unfazed by what he had thought was a rather biting comment. "An immature, obsessive child in an adult's body? That sounds about right. John is not your toy, Mr. Holmes."

"Oh, so you're on a first-name basis now," he snarled.

"You cannot keep him forever," she said warmly. "The man is allowed to do as he chooses. And he is choosing to marry me, and live a life apart from you. I would suggest you get used to it."

He was up and out of his chair before he was even aware that he was moving, crossing the room towards her only to stop short as the door to the sitting room swung open and Watson entered.

"Mary, why aren't you down yet? I thought Holmes might have kept you." He darted a quick, suspicious glance at his now ex-flatmate.

"Not at all, John." Mary leaned forward and kissed him possessively on the cheek, her eyes sending a cutting gaze in the direction of the only other man in the room. "Shall we leave?"

The doctor did not seem to notice her slight emphasis on the final word. "We shall. Goodbye, old boy," he called over his shoulder to Holmes, and the engaged couple left the room and made their way out of 221B Baker Street.

If Watson had bothered to turn around, he would have seen the single tear track its way down his friend's face. But he didn't, and anyway the tear did not last for long. Reaching up with an irritated growl, Holmes dashed the offending display of emotion away and then turned on his heel, going for the desk in the corner. It took some rummaging about, but finally he found what he was looking for. Shoving it into his coat pocket, he slammed the drawer shut and swept out of the room, passing the conspicuously empty corner that Gladstone had used to occupy.

The headline of every paper the next morning was the most shocking that London had seen in many years.

A3: You may now all play the most dramatic music you possess in your playlists. Thank you.

Now clearly the thing to be done here is for me to go off and write the next chapter. In the meantime, would any of you mind terribly dropping a review? I do love them so, and every single one is greatly appreciated!