Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

A Happy Valentine's Day to those of you who celebrate it. And to the rest of you, a very happy (early) Half-Price Chocolate Day!


The first time John Watson meets Mary Morstan, he accidentally bumps into her and spills his take-away curry straight onto her short crop of fair curls.

"God, I'm sorry," he says, eyes widening in horror. "I should have been watching where I was going. Are you alright?"

The woman gets to her feet and John notes absently that she's really quite pretty despite the curry in her hair; wide grey eyes, high cheekbones, well-shaped b–

"I'm fine," she says, abruptly cutting his musings short. "Just a bit, erm, turmeric-y. It's my fault, really; shouldn't have stopped to tie my shoe in the middle of the pavement."

"No, no, I should have looked where I was walking," John insists. "Look… this is going to sound like a line, but – d'you want to come into my flat to freshen up a bit? I only live a few doors down."

"I couldn't," she demurs.

"Really, it's no imposition," John assures her. "I feel terrible. Allow me to make it up to you somehow." He pauses, then adds, "I'm trustworthy, I promise. I'm a doctor, got my ID somewhere around here…"

He's rummaging through his coat pockets when the woman says, "Sorry, but I don't even know your name."

"Oh, right. Right," John says, offering her his hand. "Sorry. John Watson."

Reaching out her own hand and giving his a firm shake, she replies, "Mary Morstan."

"Pleased to meet you, Mary Morstan, though I'm sorry it happened this way," John says.

Mary laughs and says, "Pleased to meet you too, John Watson. And don't worry; my hair needed a good wash anyway."

He smiles at her, and it's one of the more genuine ones he's given since Sherlock – well. Since that day.

"Now that we're properly introduced, I don't suppose the offer to use your shower is still open?" she asks, eyebrow cocked invitingly.

"Of course," John says hastily, and promptly ushers her back to the flat.

-–- -–- -–- -–- -–-

The third time Mary meets John Watson, he drops his take-away curry onto her head.

What he doesn't know is that she's already met him before – twice, in fact. They hadn't met face-to-face, but Mary still counts those encounters.

You see, the first two times Mary Sebastia Mor(st)an met John Watson, it was through the scope of a sniper rifle.

And this third meeting? John Watson doesn't know it yet, but it's going to be their last.

Sherlock Holmes is still alive. The deal is off.


A/N: I leave the outcome of the John/Mary fight up to your fertile imaginations.