Joan finished walking up the stairs to stand in front of him.

"So it wasn't a question?" she asked in surprise "It was a proposal?"

"For practical reasons, Watson. For practical reasons. So, not a proposal, more like a... proposed course of action" he explained. "That way everything I own will be yours when I die and, in the most than probable case that one of us end in a hospital, the other will have visitation rights..."

But she walked past him and inside the house and was already at the bottom of the stairs when he caught up with her and tried to block her path.

"You are upset" he tried, and she went around him without stopping on her way upstairs.

"And you're nuts" she replied without looking at him.

He hurried to keep up with her, but she didn't slow down. At the end he had to resort to passing in front of her and getting in her way for the second time, effectively making her stop.

"You have to admit that, statistically, I'm much more prone to die before you. Not only do I have more enemies than you, but I'm also a male, and older. So everything is against me, Watson. It's very clear that you will be the survivor in this partnership" he said, but she dodged him again and kept going up the stairs.

"You're being pessimistic" she said, hurrying the last steps to her bedroom.

"Watson, you wouldn't have to worry about money for the rest of your life."

"And now you're being insulting" she said, just before slamming the door in his face.

He leaned on the doorframe, trying to continue the conversation.

"And after my little experiment in the restaurant, I thought you would be open to the idea!" he shouted to the door.

That did it. She opened the door again, causing him to stand straight, and stared at him with an unreadable expression.

"It was an experiment" she said. "You took my hand just to see how I would react."

"Well, yes... " he started "you see, I wanted to..."

The door slammed again, leaving him no choice but to keep shouting to make himself heard.

"I wanted to confirm that you wouldn't be repulsed by my touch. My experiment showed that you feel a certain attraction to me and, consequently, a marriage between the two of us would be a success!" he shouted to the door.

Suddenly the door opened again, startling him, and he was forced to back off quickly when Joan made a beeline for him. She had taken off her coat, her necktie and her shoes but somehow, clad only in a blouse and a skirt, and barefoot, she seemed more menacing than ever.

"You want to talk about attraction? Good, let's talk about it. Let's talk about this 'experiment' that you did in the restaurant, Sherlock, and how you're lying to me right now."

"I'm not lying!" he said.

"You are!" she shouted. "I know that your 'little experiment' is a load of crap! You never do an experiment when you already have the answer for it, so let's talk about how you're lying about what it was really for" she got in his face to shout at him "and how it doesn't prove anything because I told you myself months ago that I was attracted to you, you idiot!" she ended her reply hitting him in the arm.

"You didn't!" he said indignantly, trying to get out of her reach.

"Do the words 'I fell into your orbit' ring a bell, Einstein?"

"You were talking about my work!" he argued.

"I was talking about you! Why couldn't you see that?" she demanded.

He blinked in confusion.

"It didn't occur to me because our partnership is not based upon such criteria" he explained.

"And now you're talking about marriage, and it turns out that loving each other is a key factor in a successful marriage. Love, Sherlock, not attraction."

"Not always. Think, for example...".

But she was having none of that.

"I think you know me well enough to imagine me entering into a marriage for money. I want something more than that."

"You want a romantic proposal?" he said, almost in accusation.

"No!" she said. "Well, yes, maybe! Sherlock, I know I'm not the girly type, but when I dreamt about my marriage proposal I never imagined it would come as a project report with its own budget item!" she shouted at him.

"We have to make practical decisions, Watson!" he shouted back. "We have a criminal organization after us, and while we've been handed a reprieve because of my father's actions, I'm sure that it will be a short one. We have time to prepare ourselves, and one of the most logical courses of action is to protect. Each other. Legally!" he shouted.

"I'm not, absolutely not, going to marry you just to grab your money, Sherlock!" she shouted back.

"You are not grabbing anything, Watson! I am the one offering it to you!" he said theatrically, using a lot of gestures.

Joan went quiet and folded her arms.

"What for?" she said in a normal tone.

"Excuse me?" he replied, confused by the sudden change of pace.

"When you give money to someone it is either charity or you are buying something. What exactly are you buying?" she explained.

"I'm afraid I don't follow you" Sherlock said.

"Let me simplify it for you: you have been very convincing about the benefits I would get from this, but what about yours?"

"Mine?"

"Yes, Sherlock, yours. What would you get out of a marriage with me?" she asked while getting closer and closer to him, making him dizzy at the thought of what would happen when she would be close enough. Then his back bumped against the opposite wall, and he realized that while she had been getting near, his body, on its own, had been retreating. Not surprising at all, he thought, given her expression. Her eyes were looking not just at his face, but his whole body, which was disconcerting and...well... Sherlock had to swallow before he could say the word in his mind... exciting. Her smile was dangerous, something that he seldom saw in his partner, and her movements, while slow, were somewhat...

...predatory.

Sherlock swallowed again, throat suddenly dry. Was she trying to intimidate him? She was too short for that, surely she was aware that someone with her height couldn't possibly intend to... except that he was already sweating, and trembling at the thought of her body so close to him, and she was still a good meter away.

And he had forgotten what they had been talking about.