A/N: I'm American. Sorry if I get terms/slang wrong. Also, sorry about the short chapter.

I had someone ask about Marianas Trench-I love them.

Chapter 2

Friends

-JW

"John."

The whispered word breaks me from my reverie, sending my train of thought detailing quite completely. Mary looms above me, reading over my shoulder. "A Study in Pink." I can feel her eyeroll like a tick under my skin as she scans the words on my compute screen. "Really, Sweetheart, it's time...time you stopped this. Re-reading old posts will not bring him back."

"I know. I'm very aware of that, actually." She knows I'm irritated and backs away. "You know quite well I've rid of my depression for a long while, Mary, dear." How am I going to say this?

"But..?" She hears the unfinished sentence in my voice.

"But that doesn't mean that I don't still miss him, and that I font loathe every person who caused his death."

Something lights up in Mary's eyes. Sadness, maybe? "John..." she runs her hand over my shoulders as if to calm me. Mary decides to drop the subject, I'm guessing, since she doesn't bring it up again all night

It's later in bed that I start really thinking.

It's been five months. Five, and I still expect to see him in the living area of 221B Baker Street, perched in his chair like he's deep in thought. I've been over his death for a long time, though I cannot understand why his presence still haunts this place.

I'm involved with Mary now. Beautiful, serene, perfect Mary. It's her that's kept me grounded for the two months I've known her. I can remember when I met her in my office that first day. Her waist-length auburn hair was straight as a pin and her green eyes reflected perfectly the light from my desk. They were almost infinite in depth. Her slim figure sat down in front if me and I was hooked. She was just the distraction I needed to get over the death of my flatmate. I was a haunted man, I will not lie.

But since then, I'm new. Happy, even, with Mary. She did this and I love her and she loves me. That is why I will ask her to marry me.

My eyes fly open at this thought. Just then I hear a knock on the door. Who would be calling on me at-what is it?- eleven thirty in the evening?

Yeah, yeah. I put on my dressing gown and trudge to the door. "Just a minute." and turn the knob.

Who is at John's door?

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