This Relationship is Built of Breakfast.
Summary: The story of John, Mary and the most important meal of the day. John/Mary. Slight Greg/Molly.
A/N: after not being able to get The Waitress Song by Seth Sentry out of my head for two days, this is what happened. (Seriously, if you haven't heard it, youtube it, it's pretty funky). Please remember that this is set over a few years. A few tame naughty bits, I hope that I have put it in the right rating.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the idea.
ONE
Since the death of Sherlock Holmes, John Watson had become a creature of habit. This routine kept him going. The idea that knowing exactly what he had to do each day stopped him from thinking too much.
Wake up, Breakfast at Speedy's, check in with Mrs Hudson, go to the clinic, pick up a take away on the way home, eat in front of telly, call Harry, go to bed, repeat again tomorrow.
Unless it was Friday, which had the added event of meeting Greg and Molly for a pint.
So it was no real surprise that on one unremarkable Thursday morning, he entered Speedy's, smiled to the fry cook, and took his usual spot in the back booth. The newspaper that was there was a few days old, but he flipped it open anyway to have something to do before his usual order arrived.
He didn't even look up when the waitress approached. He could see out of the corner of his eye the red dress that all of the girls at Speedy's wore.
"The usual, thank you"
"Umm" there was a tone of nervous hesitation which made him look up. The woman before him in the Speedy's uniform tapped her pencil on her notepad gently. He didn't recognise her. "I am new here, so I don't actually know what your usual is…sorry"
"Oh, no, don't be sorry" John grinned at the attractive blonde. She had the brightest blue eyes that he had ever seen which complimented her blonde hair nicely. Younger than him, he was sure, but not by enough for it to matter. She was short, but fit and filled out her uniform nicely. "First day?"
"Yeah" she leant in conspiratorially "and I have already stuffed up one order. Not doing too well"
"Well…" John glanced at her name badge that was pinned to the front of her uniform dress, smiling as he read it "Mary… my order is pretty easy. Bacon, eggs, one piece of toast and black coffee."
Mary scribbled down the order "and how do you like your eggs?"
"Scrambled please"
With a smile, Mary turned to give the order to the cook (who had, of course, already started cooking). John watched her retreat; his eyes following her every move as she wiped down a counter and filled one of the salt dispensers.
Mary was sure she was being watched. That cute blonde man in the corner booth, who had ordered his usual, was watching her out of the corner of his eye sometimes. Other times, he was full on staring.
Mary looked up and their eyes locked. Mary blushed and looked away, tucking the end of her fringe behind her ear. John blushed as well, smiling brightly at his paper.
Mary continued her busy work until the kitchen dinged that the order was ready. She took a deep breath and turned, approaching the man in the booth.
"There you are" she smiled, placing the plate in front of him. He smiled his lady- killer smile at her that made her insides melt just a little and her hands shake. So much so, that she fumbled with his cutlery. "I will… I'll just grab your coffee."
She returned very quickly. "Everything is great here Mary" John smiled up at her. "A very successful first mission"
Mary smiled again and turned to take the order of the new couple that had entered. She paused however, turning back and tucking her hair behind her ear again. Nervously, John deduced. "So, if you're a regular, what name should I attach to this order?"
"I am John" John replied, holding out his hand. Mary shook it quickly. "John Watson."
TWO
It had taken a month before John had built up enough courage to ask Mary out on a date. He needn't have worried, since as soon as the words were out his mouth, Mary replied with a very enthusiastic "Yes!"
He had taken her to the cinema, a safe first date, but at the conclusion of the film, neither of them wanted the night to end. It had resulted in them walking around the town, hand in hand.
They had spoken about all matters of things: how Mary was only working at Speedy's during the day to support her night school culinary classes, she had worked at multiple other jobs for years before realising she should turn her love of cooking into a career, how John had been in the military and his tours, how beautiful London was in the winter and how they both wanted to learn how to snowboard.
"Oh, I've got it" Mary grinned, stopping them beside the river and turning to John. They had switched to asking each other questions to get to know one another. "What is your all-time favourite pickup line?"
John laughed, smiling at her. He was so glad that this date was going well. He really liked Mary. Seeing her every morning at the Café had become the highlight of his days. For the first time in a long time, he felt he had a reason to get out of bed, even if it was just at share a smile with the woman who served him coffee. "I don't need pickup lines"
Mary laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. Flirting, that was a good sign.
"I don't" John confirmed. "I just use this…" John straightened up, leaning against the guard rail of the river, changing his persona. He smiled charismatically, stroked Mary's arm and said "John Watson…Doctor"
Mary laughed again, a deep, real laugh that lit up her whole face. It made John's heartbeat quicken.
"Well then, what's yours?" John asked.
"Well I can't exactly say 'Mary Morstan, Waitress'" she smiled, pretending to be considering. "It's not as impressive. So I usually just use 'How do you like your eggs?'"
Mary grinned, turned and walked away. John stood, mouth agape, before composing himself and catching up.
THREE
The noises Mary was making were incredible.
"Oh my god" she mumbled softly. John couldn't help but grin a little. "Fantastic"
"You like that?" John asked carefully.
"Oh my god, it's…it's…" she was soon rendered speechless as she spooned another bite of the pancakes before her.
They were in a small café on the other side of town which came highly recommended by Greg and Molly for their breakfasts. It was a one of Mary's rare Sunday's off, and he had picked her up early for their third date. He planned on spending the day with her, doing all sorts of things but first off, breakfast.
Still a creature of habit, his bacon, eggs and toast sat before him, getting increasingly colder, as he watched Mary eat. She cut a slice more of her pancakes, coated liberally in berry compote.
"Something wrong?" she asked, realising that he had stopped eating.
"Oh, no" he smiled, returning to his food. "Just got distracted by a beautiful woman, that's all."
Mary turned and scanned the café, then looked back at him. "Oh, you mean me?"
John laughed and reached across the table to take her hand in his. She blushed a little but twined her fingers into his. "I really like spending time with you Mary."
"I love spending time with you too John" she replied. "Especially when you keep me so well fed!"
FOUR
The noises Mary was making were incredible.
"Oh my god" she mumbled softly. John couldn't help but grin a little. "Fantastic"
"You like that?" John asked carefully.
"Oh my god" she moaned softly, rendered speechless by John's talented tongue on her skin.
It was the third time they had made love. The third time in about twelve hours. They had finally reached the physical part of their relationship. John had been sure that Mary was the one to set the pace, but in true male fashion, had been relieved when the evening before, after they had cooked a dinner and rented a movie, Mary had asked him if they could move it to his room.
Their first time together had been about exploration, their second growing in passion, and this, the third time, was about lust.
Everything they had grown to want from each other over the last two months was taken that morning, rough kisses and caresses that slowly turned harder as their need grew. Hands gripping and bodies pressed together in the depth of passion.
They fell apart together, Mary muffling a loud cry against John's chest, his hand wrapped in her hair, biting his lip at he shook gently in her arms.
They collapsed back into his bed after that, hands still exploring each other as their panting breaths steadied.
Mary turned to her side, running her hand down his chest. John smiled peacefully, eyes closed at he regained himself.
Three words were on the tip of her tongue. Three words that summed up exactly what she was feeling, had been for at least the last week. I love you. Words that she had never said to a partner before in her life. But she knew she meant it. John Watson was the man that she had waited almost 30 years for and now that she had found him, she didn't want to stuff it up. Using the 'L' word to early would be stuffing it up. Men had a tendency to freak out if a woman came on too strong.
She ran her hand down over his shoulder, tracing the scar tissue from the bullet that had gone through his shoulder in the war. The words where threatening to leave her without her permission. She needed to do something, so say something else to stop them.
"Are you hungry?" she whispered. John opened his eyes, a dazed, relaxed look on his face and smiled dreamily at her. She guessed that was a yes. Mary kissed him gently and stood, pulling his t-shirt over her head to cover her body.
Busy boiling water for the eggs she was about to poach, she didn't hear him enter the room behind her. Mary jumped as she felt him behind her, wrapping his arms around her hips.
John pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck and whispered "I think I love you, Mary"
Not getting caught up by the word 'think' Mary sunk back into his arms and whispered "I love you too John"
Turns out it wasn't too soon.
FIVE
"Are you nervous about me meeting your friends?" Mary asked. John, who had been lost in his own thoughts looked at her and considered it.
"Would you be offended if I said a little?" John asked, and Mary shook her head. "I know that they will love you as much as I do, I just… I've never done it like this. A brunch. Usually if they meet someone I care about it is a big event, like a party. I don't want to overwhelm you"
Mary patted him on the arm; he was so caring, always thinking about her and keeping her comfortable. "I am not overwhelmed. Do I have anything to be nervous about?"
John shook his head. No, she didn't. Only one person in his life would have made her nervous, but sadly, Mary would never meet him. John couldn't help but wonder if Sherlock would have liked Mary.
They entered the restaurant and were met by a waitress. "We are part of the Lestrade Party."
"Of course, after me" the woman led them to the middle of the restaurant where Greg and Molly were already seated.
"John!" Molly grinned, jumping to her feet as she saw her friend. She greeted John with a kiss on the cheek, and then smiled at Mary.
"Mary Morstan" John began the introduction. "Dr Molly Hooper"
Molly shook hands with the other woman before turning to the well-dressed older man that sat beside them. He stood and offered his own hand "and this is my husband Greg."
They sat and began perusing the menu, talking about their weeks. Mary was interested to find out that Greg was a Detective inspector and that Molly was a pathologist. When she revealed she was a third year student at London Culinary College, both their eyes lit up.
"Gorgeous, and she can cook, I see what John sees in you" Greg laughed. "Does he still burn almost everything he touches?"
They all laughed before Molly launched into an anecdote about John trying to make instant mac and cheese and forgetting to put water in it. Mary laughed, holding John's hand under the table to stop him from being embarrassed.
"Oh, that's nothing. Remember that time Sherlock tried to bake a cake when the kitchen was filled with lab specimens?" Greg began, and he, Molly and John erupted into laughter.
"Sorry? Sherlock?" Mary asked gently. Was this another friend that they were waiting on?
Greg and Molly looked awkwardly at John. It was rare to meet someone who didn't know about Sherlock Holmes, and it was obviously that John had not really spoken of the other man to Mary.
"Sherlock was my best friend" John began carefully, choosing his words and staring at a bead of condensation as it ran down the water jug. "And he passed away a few years ago. Suicide."
Mary was instantly sorry she had asked who Sherlock was. Her hand, wrapped around his under the table gave a tight squeeze, and John smiled sadly at her.
"I thought everyone knew about Sherlock Holmes!" Greg began, obviously not seeing the 'drop it' looks that his wife was shooting him. "It was all over the papers"
"I travelled and studied abroad for a while. It is possible it happened when I was in Spain" Mary suggested.
"You've been to Spain?" Molly said excitedly, secretly happy for the subject change. "That must have been wonderful. I am trying to convince Greg to take me to Spain, since I am still waiting on my honeymoon." She shot Greg a look, and he laughed. "Tell me more about it; you must make amazing paella!"
SIX
Mary hummed a tune as she flipped the omelette in the skillet. Beside her on the stove, the kettle whistled, so she moved onto the task of making their tea.
It was Wednesday, the only day of the week that she didn't have the breakfast shift, instead starting at around lunch time. It was also the day that John had negotiated at his day off. Wednesday was by far the best day of the week, allowing them to have a lie in and then cook breakfast together.
John was suffering a cold on this particular morning, and Mary had decided that doctors sure did make the worst patients. He had cuddled up to her this morning, making pitiful noises and sniffling like he was the only person on the planet who had ever been sick. Mary had laughed, playfully told him to grow up and pushed him off towards the shower while she made brekky.
The front door opened and closed and Mary stopped humming "Is that you, Mrs Hudson?"
There was no reply, so she assumed it must have been John, finished in the shower and going to retrieve the paper. Footfalls suggested whoever was there was coming towards the kitchen, so as Mary turned to dish up, she asked "Anything interesting in the news?"
No reply met her, so she looked up. What she saw made her scream, drop the frypan of food to the floor and step back, pulling her night shirt down to cover her legs from this intruder.
"Who are you?" the deep, calm voice asked.
"Who am I? Who the bloody hell are you!" Mary asked, one hand on her rapidly beating chest, the other still holding her nightshirt down.
"Mary?" John called concern evident in her voice. "Mary, what's wrong?"
John stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his mouth opening and closing but with no sound coming out. Before him, standing between him and Mary, was a dead man.
"John" Sherlock nodded in greeting and entered the kitchen, looking down at the mess of breakfast that sat by Mary's feet. "That looked good. You must be getting close to the conclusion of your culinary studies."
Mary looked from Sherlock, who was now sitting at the table, his foot resting against its edge, to John, who was holding himself up on the banister.
"Sherlock?" John whispered. "Sherlock?"
"Yes John, what is it?" Sherlock asked, "You know I hate it when you can't articulate!"
John stumbled, and Mary ran to his side, holding him up. He was weak enough from being sick, and now obviously was in shock. Then it all hit her "Sherlock? Sherlock Holmes?"
John and Sherlock both nodded. Sherlock Holmes, dead and disgraced detective, John's best friend.
Mary sat John down opposite Sherlock and set to work cleaning the mess that had been made. Neither of the men said anything – just stared. It was beginning to make her feel uneasy.
To relieve the tension, she made a second omelette, enough for three, and put it on the table. Still no one had spoken.
Baker St had been taken by a heavy silence, and Mary was actually extremely pleased when the time came to leave it to go to work.
SEVEN
The sound of her shoes on the tiles was the only thing louder than her heartbeat in her ears. It was four in the morning, and she had woken up to an empty bed. Not a rarity since Sherlock had been back. Often she wake to the cold and quiet bed, and a note or message on her phone saying that he was off working a case with Sherlock.
It had taken a while, but soon enough the relationship between the two men had been mended. In fact, it was just after Sherlock's first case back that they had entered the apparent laughing like old times.
Mary had gotten out of bed that morning, thinking nothing of it. She showered and readied herself for work, pulling on her chef's uniform and pinning her hair back neatly. She had finally done it, finished her training and moved on from Speedy's, now she worked at a trendy restaurant in the fine dining district of London. As a beginner she mainly had breakfast and preparation shifts, but it was her dream job, so she was happy.
Exiting Baker Street, however, her phone had rang. Answering it quickly, she was surprised to hear Greg's voice. "Come to St. Bart's, there's been an accident"
After an amazingly long cab ride, she was finally running through the halls of Barts, looking for John's room.
"Mary!" Molly's voice caught her attention and she made her way into a small waiting room. Sherlock sat against one wall, pale and stricken. Greg was there also. Molly pulled Mary into her arms as soon as she was close enough.
"Where is he? Is he ok? What happened? Can I see him?" the questions shot rapid fire out of her mouth.
"He was working a case and he was shot." Molly began, holding Mary's shoulders as she tried to turn away from her friend. "He is fine, honestly."
"How can you say that? John's been shot!" Mary replied, pulling away.
"Don't get hysterical Mary" Sherlock began casually, standing from his spot.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" Mary replied. "You are the reason he is here, aren't you? Aren't you Sherlock? He got shot on one of your cases…" she hesitated before stating. "He took the bullet for you, didn't he?"
"I didn't ask him to!" Sherlock bellowed. Greg moved to Sherlock's side, he had never seen Sherlock lose control like that before. "I didn't ask him to Mary, I swear!"
Mary looked up at Sherlock and for the first time saw what John usually saw. A brilliant man who, when it all boiled down, couldn't look after himself. John had tried to explain that Sherlock needed him, that there was a reason why he was so loyal to his best friend. Sherlock could identify a murderer for the aftershave he used, but he didn't understand people. John had explained to her that while he was never going to leave her, for as long as Sherlock was alive, he was never going to leave his friend either.
And no matter how angry he was with Sherlock Holmes, Mary realised that she felt the same way. They had gotten to know one another over the last few weeks. He was a smart guy, obnoxious at times yes, but he honestly reminded her of a younger brother.
Mary took a breath and stepped towards Sherlock. It was a shock to all when she hugged him.
"We both care about him" Mary whispered, Sherlock nodded awkwardly. "Let's not fight. It's no one's fault. I am sorry."
Sherlock nodded into her hair, and when the nurse came to tell them they could visit John, they entered the room together.
EIGHT
Mary entered the kitchen to the smell of bacon. That was funny; she had just left John upstairs in bed, which meant…
"Sherlock?"
"Ahh, good morning" Sherlock grinned, turning around to place the bacon he had cooked on the three plates that were on the table. He had also made eggs, heated up beans, brought some pastries and had a selection of juices and coffee. In the centre of the table was a chilled bottle of champagne and three glasses.
"Sherlock?"
"I thought, since celebrations were in order, I would do something nice for you two."
"Celebrations?" Mary asked, sitting down at the table. She would be the first to admit that often times when she was talking to Sherlock she was confused, but this was the worst confusion of all. "What celebrations?"
"Your upcoming nuptials!"
Mary spluttered the Orange juice that she had just sipped. She managed not to make too much of a mess. "What?"
"Oh, don't hide it. You know I know!"
Mary stared at him. What did he mean? He knew what? There was nothing for him to know.
"Sherlock?"
"Stop saying my name like that" Sherlock smiled. "And stop playing coy, it is all very obvious. For days John has been on edge about something. It is not a case because we don't have one. He went and got a haircut two days ago, even though he didn't really need it, for days he has been tapping his pockets. Something he always does, usually tapping his wallet, phone and keys, but this time, he tapped a fourth time, checking for something else. Last night, a date night that you've had on the calendar for three weeks. Usually if you have a night off, it is a spontaneous date like a movie, but last night, it was planned. He took you out with the intention of proposing to you, and considering you came home from said date and made love two…no, three times, I suggest that his endeavour was successful." Sherlock popped the cork on the champagne and poured her a glass, and in a very uncharacteristic tone stated "So go on, show me the ring."
But Mary's face had sunk. "John didn't propose to me last night Sherlock."
"Are you sure?' he asked.
Mary took the offered champagne and downed it in one go. "I am certain"
Sherlock then slipped into his own little world, muttering about being wrong and all the variables that he had taken into account. Mary cut that out and retreated into her own mind. She poured another glass, this time sipping the alcohol.
Sherlock was very rarely wrong about things. Had John intended on proposing to her the night before? He had taken her to a nice restaurant. Nicer then they had gone to in a while. When she had questioned him, John had just said 'you deserve it'. They had then gone for a walk around London and braved the crowds of the London Eye. The evening had finished with coffee at their favourite little coffee shop. Each location as romantic as the last. Any of them a potential proposal spot. But John had not asked?
She had never been ashamed of anything in front of John before, but when he entered the room, she wanted the floor to swallow her up. "What's all this then?"
Sherlock looked up at him and asked the question that was on the tip of Mary's tongue. "Why didn't you propose to Mary last night?"
John looked shocked. "How did you know I was going to…?"
Mary did sink into the chair. He was going to, but he didn't? What on earth was going on?
"I deduced." Sherlock replied. "This was to be a celebration. But you went and stuffed it up"
"Stuffed it up?" John replied. "Says you, you've never even had a girlfriend!"
Mary cleared her throat. John looked at her and then realised what had just been said in front of her. "Mary!"
"As fascinating as this conversation is, I'd like an explanation" Mary mumbled.
"Me too!" Sherlock began.
"Shut up Sherlock" Mary and John said together. Sherlock shrugged and left the kitchen, moving to the living room where he could still hear the conversation.
There was an awkward air between them. "You were going to propose?"
John nodded.
"But you didn't?" Mary confirmed.
John nodded a second time.
"Can I ask why?"
"I chickened out" John said weakly. He knelt down in front of her so that he was eye level. "I reached for the ring box five times. And each time, this little voice in my head kept asking me why? Why a girl like you would want a man like me?"
"John, we've been together for two years. If I didn't want you…"
"I know" he muttered. "But I just…at the restaurant, it all seemed so corny and unoriginal, and I thought that you wouldn't want a man who proposed to you in a restaurant. And when we were walking I thought it was the ideal location, but then there was this terrible smell coming of the river, and I pictured you calling Molly and telling her all about it, and It wouldn't have been perfect if you mentioned the smell. Then, when we went up in the eye… well, that was the only time I questioned whether or not you'd say yes. If you had of said no while we were locked in a class cabin that far above the ground, well, that would be awkward."
Mary was relaxing slowly as she realised it was his own hang ups, not her that had changed his plans. Gosh she loved this silly man!
"At the café I was just…" Mary cut him off, her lips crashing onto hers.
"So you were nervous?"
"So nervous" he admitted.
"You do realise no matter how you do it, I will think it is perfect" Mary replied, kissing him again "regardless of cliché, or smell, or enclosed spaces"
John responded by shifting his position and reaching into the pocket of his dressing gown. "Well, in that case…"
Mary's hand went to her mouth, not to hide shock but to hide the massive smile that was now there. John took her hand in his, opening the ring box with a flick of his nimble fingers. The ring he presented to her was gorgeous. Not too flashy, but enough to be impressive.
"Mary Morstan" he smiled at her. Mary was already nodding. "Will you marry me?"
"Of course, yes" she laughed, allowing John, her fiancé, to place the engagement ring on her finger. They both stood, holding each other and kissing passionately. When they broke away, the first thing out of Mary's mouth actually made John smile.
"Sherlock!"
"Hey Sherlock" John laughed, moving to the door of the living room. "Come celebrate our engagement!"
NINE
John groaned. His head was pounding and he felt as though he would throw up the entire contents of his stomach at any moment. He groaned again, louder. It was all he could think to do.
Have a bucks night, Greg had said. It will be great, Greg had said.
John wanted nothing more than to punch Greg in the throat.
John groaned a third time, this time he was answered by a lump laying on the floor by the window. Sherlock was under his coat, groaning in pain also.
Both men let out a painful shout as the curtains in the living room were pulled back. "Good morning boys!"
John's arms covered his face. Sherlock made a flailing motion as if to fight the bringer of the light.
"My, my, did we over indulge last night?"
"Shut up, I am dying!" Sherlock yelled. Mary just smiled and made her way to the couch.
"How are you feeling John?"
"I've never been in so much pain in my life, and I've been shot… twice!" John replied.
"Oh, my poor baby" Mary rolled her eyes, running her fingers through his hair. "Do you want breakfast?"
"No, nuh-huh, no thank you!" John muttered, closing his eyes. He didn't think he would be able to stomach food for at least a decade.
"Not even eggs benedict? Your favourite? Creamy, warm hollandaise sauce" she began, describing the meal that on most days John would beg for.
John was starting to look a little green.
"Smothered poached eggs, still runny in the middle" she smiled. John doubled over in pain.
"You're meant to love me" John snapped pitifully. Mary laughed.
"Or, if you don't want eggs benny, I could always make you a nice greasy fry up…nice, streaky bacon, onions…"
"John, make your future wife stop talking!" Sherlock cried.
"Beans, some bangers? Maybe some runny egg in there as well"
In a flurry of movement, john stood from the couch and bolted to the bathroom. She could hear his retching all the way from the living room.
Mary knew it wasn't nice, but she couldn't help but laugh, knowing it was going to be a long time before John got drunk again.
TEN
John smiled, stretching his arms above his head. He sat up, still yawning. After the excitement of the day before, he had slept so well.
Taking in the hotel room before him, he couldn't help the grin that broke his face. His shoes were by the door, his pants crumpled by the chair, his shirt and tie discarded somewhere.
The only clothing item that they had taken care with the evening before had been her dress. He had unlaced her slowly, knowing that he would never have another opportunity to undress his beautiful bride on their wedding night.
He had helped her step out of the gorgeous gown, and together, clad only in his pants and her white lingerie, they had returned it to the dress bag, zipping it up before collapsing onto the bed for the first time as man and wife.
Beside him, Mary stretched, waking up the same way he had, extending her hands above her head.
"Good morning, Mrs Watson"
"Oh, what a cliché" she laughed, pulling him into her arms and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. She humoured him anyway "Good morning, Mr Watson"
"You go start the shower. I'll order us some room service" John smiled, releasing her. Mary nodded, jumping out of bed.
"Mary?"
She paused at the door of the bathroom, looking back over her shoulder. "Hmm?"
"How do you want your eggs?"