Chapter Warning: This chapter contains mature/sexual content

That day was nothing but agony for Sherlock. It was hard enough when Sherlock had to entertain himself all day long while John and Mary worked, trying to keep the dullness at bay without a case. But being alone all day with his worries and obsessions about Mary was intolerable. He'd thought that boredom was the worst but it didn't hold a candle to worry.

After obsessing about it for hours, Sherlock had come to the conclusion that the best thing that could come of all of this was that Mary would simply say they had to forget it. It was obvious, despite the interest that she had showed in the kiss, that she regretted it. She had to for the way she fled from him last night without so much as a word. This morning, she'd been silent as well and seemed reluctant to even look at him. So, the best he could hope for was that she would either never mention it again or tell him that it couldn't happen again. It wasn't a very appealing offer but it was all he supposed that he could have. No matter what, the easy climate they had between each other was likely gone and Sherlock regretted his lack of self-control; it was so unlike him and now he saw just why he held himself in such high standards of self-control.

But the worst that could happen….there were much more bad possibilities, ranging in levels of severity. What if Mary told John what had happened? Sure, she would implicate herself in doing that but that didn't mean that she wouldn't still tell him. Even though they were equally guilty in this, that is not the way that John would see it. He would be angrier at Sherlock than Mary, no doubt. John was just starting to get past the whole 'being angry at Sherlock for faking his death' thing and if he added 'kissing my wife' to it, he would probably never speak to Sherlock again. Sherlock wasn't sure that was a pain he could bear; it had been hard enough staying away from him for two years. But at least that had been for his safety; if John voluntarily wanted nothing to with him, Sherlock would be devastated. After all, it'd been John that had really gotten Sherlock upset in the first place. For a moment, Sherlock had the terror of wondering what would happen if Mary told John about Sherlock's feelings for him but he quickly dismissed it. Sherlock was reasonably sure that even if angry, Mary wouldn't do that do him.

And what if they decided to leave now? Sherlock wondered as he paced a circle into the rug that afternoon. Worrying just wasn't something that he did a whole lot of and he didn't care for it all. What if he'd overstepped his bounds completely and they left him? Obviously they had only moved in with him to help him past his drug issues but he knew better than to believe that Mary has any intention of leaving any time soon. What if he had just completely ruined that? It was all enough to make Sherlock twitch with need to shoot up again. He wanted to be calm and didn't know how to do it. He'd even made it to the front door with the intention of trying to find drugs, even though it was probably impossible. It was, ironically, thoughts of Mary that made him stop. He could use and probably get it past John's notice. But Mary would notice no matter what and it would hurt her. Sherlock found that the desire to keep from hurting Mary was enough to keep him from his own desires. Another interesting deduction….

Sherlock was hiding in his bedroom when John and Mary finally got home. He could hear their voices through the door but it was a long time before he gained the courage to leave and face them.

Mary was on the couch, curled with her feet up eating some take away and watching telly. Sherlock did a panicked glance around the room and realized that John wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Where's…..uh…..John?" Sherlock asked uncomfortably. He was already sweating in several places and his heart was beating fast. He was getting out of control if even his body was helping to betray him.

"He went out to the pub with Stamford and Greg" Mary said, setting her dinner aside and patting the couch beside her. "Come sit down. We can have a chat."

Sherlock hesitated. He put his hands in his pockets and looked around for an excuse but he couldn't think of one fast enough.

"Sherlock, you're obsessing" Mary said with a grin, looking at him knowingly. "We have to talk about this, you know. Best to do it when John's out, don't you think?"

So, that least meant that John didn't know yet; Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. He slowly walked over to the couch, sitting as far from Mary on the other end as he could. She noticed his space but didn't comment on it. Sherlock didn't trust himself; already he was thinking Mary looked pretty and comfortable and he wanted to kiss her again. He'd never been particularly interested in kissing; he didn't feel much in the way of attraction. He'd felt next to nothing of it before he met John. All of his experience really came from simply curiosity. He found it was easy enough to find a willing partner if you didn't care about the ramifications. But kissing Mary was completely different; he felt things he hadn't felt before.

But more than anything he wanted Mary to put her arm around him and play with his hair like she always did, so warm and comforting. As if she could read his mind, Mary grabbed his arm at that moment and pulled him toward her, laying his head on her shoulder in a caring way. "Don't worry, I'm not going to bite" Mary said with a small laugh. "Well, not again anyway."

Sherlock felt warm as he recalled that sore bruise on his neck. "Yeah, thanks for that. Vampire" he said in mock irritation. He was trying to lighten the mood and he was glad when Mary laughed, telling him she still had humor about it too.

"Oh, you liked it and you know it" Mary said, her hand brushing back his curls from his forehead repeatedly. Sherlock closed his eyes and focused on the touch as if could lose track of the words he was about to say.

"Are you going to move back home?" he asked, holding his breath slightly and glad that Mary couldn't see his face.

"We're not leaving Sherlock. Did you really think we would?" Mary asked, slight disbelief in her voice.

"I thought maybe…if John knew…"Sherlock trailed off. When he was alone it had been easy to believe that she would spill their dirty secret but now he felt ridiculous for believing that. Of course Mary wasn't going to tell John.

"I didn't tell John and I'm not going to." Mary said firmly. Somehow, it felt wrong that John didn't know but Sherlock was thankful she felt that way.

"Well, I have to admit that I did think you might have. Him being your husband and all" Sherlock said.

"What happened last night was as much my fault as your fault" Mary said reasonably. "I'm not going to tell John based on the assumption that we're not going to let that happen again. We can't do anything like that without John."

Sherlock felt the loss of something that he had not even known before. He'd never known he wanted to kiss Mary but now that he knew they couldn't ever again he felt its loss. But just as his concern was overtaking him, his mind caught up to the most important part of that sentence.

"What do you mean, not without John?" Sherlock asked, so startled that he shrugged out of Mary's touch to turn around and stare at her. The sly smile that she had on her face when he turned around made Sherlock tingle a bit in anticipation; she was definitely up to something.

"Well, it's obvious that anything physical happening between us would be very wrong to John" Mary said, "But…..if John were a part of it, then there's no reason we couldn't…do more."

Sherlock felt something inside his brain go haywire; all the delicate connections seemed to fry at the notion that there could be a reality where Sherlock was in an actual relationship with Mary and John.

"But…John would never allow that" Sherlock said. As soon as his excitement began to blossom, it fizzled away just as quickly. John had always been very firm, painfully so sometimes, that they were not a couple. He would not want anything to do with Sherlock and he doubted he would want to share Mary.

"John would probably be resistant" Mary agreed. "But…..if it were presented in the right way, slowly, as if it were his idea, then I believe that he would eventually come around to the idea."

"What exactly are you saying? What would this even be?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"It's what we all secretly want" Mary said, "John and I would still be married and you would be our companion. I like you, Sherlock. I would like to have you both; I think that could be a lot of fun. I think it's safe to say you have some feelings for me as well and we all know you and John need each other desperately. Given the right circumstances I don't see why you couldn't be both our companions."

Companion….it was such an old fashioned, normal term but the way that Mary said it made him flush and sweat even further. "This…..this is insane" Sherlock said, in amazement and astonishment. Out of all his calculations of what he imagined Mary might say to him about their kiss, he hadn't even considered this option. And he'd thought that he had considered everything…..

"Oh, just try and get me to believe that you don't want to do this" Mary dared him with a sly grin. "I'll never believe that."

"I wasn't suggesting that" Sherlock said, knowing that he couldn't fool Mary the way he could fool other people. "I just…."

Sherlock's eyes met Mary's and he suddenly felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Mary was amazing, utterly amazing; for thinking of this, for considering it. But it would never work and he wasn't sure he could even dream about this happening because it was so far away.

"Mary, there is no way that John would ever consider doing this" Sherlock said, as reasonably as he could when he felt like he was going to be sick. "If there's one thing that John has always been very certain of is that he never has and never will consider us a couple. That was even before I left for two years; he's further away now than he ever was. I don't want to upset things between you and I don't want to ruin what progress I've made with him. John just doesn't care for me like that."

Surprisingly, Mary just smiled back. She put her hand on Sherlock's cheek softly and looked into his eyes. "Sherlock, John loves you. Just believe that" Mary said with feeling. "He's stubborn and he's proud but trust me when I say that he loves you. He would give you anything you asked for, including himself."

Mary ran her finger along Sherlock's cheek soothingly. Sherlock leaned into the touch, surprising a sigh. It was surprising to him how pleasant this touch was; it was just as pleasant as kissing Mary had been but in an entirely different way.

"I'll never forget the way you looked last night, Sherlock" Mary said, a note of sadness in her voice. "I don't want you to feel that way. I want us all to be happy together. Be patient with me and I will do my best to make that happen"

Sherlock smiled, despite the sweetly sore feeling in his heart. "You are really something, Mary. You know that?" he said in slight awed disbelief. When he opened his eyes again, Mary was smiling at him.

"I'll take that as a compliment" Mary said with a grin.

"You should" Sherlock agreed.

Mary paused, seemingly debating on speaking before she said, "You know you're a bloody good kisser."

Sherlock couldn't help but smile as his cheeks colored; it wasn't a compliment he had ever received before. "You're not bad yourself" he said, trying to keep his characteristic smugness out of his voice. "I don't suppose there's any chance we could do it once more? You know…just to keep us while we wait?" It never hurt to ask, after all…

Mary laughed at Sherlock's boldness. She leaned over, giving him a whisper of a kiss on his forehead. It was sweet and gentle and was enough in its own way. "That'll do" Sherlock said with a satisfied sigh.

….

A few days later John was woken from a pleasantly undisturbed sleep by the sound of banging and crashing in the flat. When his sleep addled brain woke up and his opened his saw his old room in 221B it didn't surprise him in the least; this was familiar even if he sometimes forgot upon waking that he was back here.

The sound of thumping persisted but next to John, Mary slept soundly. Looking at the clock saw only fifteen minutes left until the alarm would wake her if Sherlock didn't first and John decided to let her sleep. Running a hand through his hair and sliding out of bed, John made his way downstairs to see what Sherlock was damaging, blowing up or experimenting on to make so much noise.

John was surprised when he came into the sitting room to see Sherlock racing around like a whirlwind. He was fully dressed and looking like his old, impeccable self; he found his coat and threw it on, completing what the world knew as 'his look'. Well, expect for the deerstalker.

"Planning on tearing the flat down in your process to get dressed?" John teased as he took in Sherlock's dramatic movements. He was halfway to the stairs when he turned around at the sound of John's voice.

Sherlock looked like a new man. John had been distracted and off key himself after Mary had made the decision to move them back to 221B and it was obvious in the change that John didn't notice in Sherlock. Now seeing Sherlock, dressed in his fine, clean, fancy clothes, freshly showered and his hair styled, with a wild look of excitement in his eye and a smile on his face, it was easy to see that he had not been himself. If John had really been paying attention, he would have really seen that before now Sherlock was not alright. He'd known that Sherlock was ill; the idea of his overdose still scared him. But now, instead of looking like a tired, sick, defeated person like he had for the past couple of weeks, he looked like….well, he just looked like Sherlock.

"I was in a hurry" Sherlock said in a rushed tone, his words flowing together like they could at his most excited. "Lestrade finally called!"

"He did? That's great" John said enthusiastically. "I know you've probably been bored to death without a case or anything to do."

"I knew it was only a matter of time they could go without me" Sherlock said with proud smugness. "But I am relieved none the less. A serial killer by the looks of it! Takes an item off every person he kills and places it on his next victim. I whole heartily understand the psychology behind murder trophies but this will be his downfall! Oh, yes…London will not be dull today!"

It was rare to see Sherlock is such high spirits; only really good cases could truly bring it on. John never got tired of seeing it. "I'm sure that will prove to be most interesting" John said.

"Yes, I am sure" Sherlock said wildly before he dashing out the door with a hurried, "Tell Mary not to wait around!"

Sherlock was out the door before John could say anything else and John was left in the quiet sitting room by himself. John sank back into his armchair, looking over at Sherlock's empty one. John was really glad that Sherlock had gotten a case to work on; he was going a bit crazy without one. But something nagged John in the back of his mind.

A few minutes later, John was still staring drowsily off into space trying to figure out why he felt so strange when Mary came down stairs, in her pyjamas, her hair tousled. She smiled at him as she sunk down, taking a seat in his lap.

"You woke up before the alarm. That must be some sort of record" Mary teased him, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.

"Sherlock sounded like he was blowing up the place" John said, a little more bitterly than he meant to. "I'm surprised you didn't wake up too."

"Where is Sherlock?" Mary asked, looking around the flat.

"He's got a case" John said.

"That's good. He's really felt a bit hopeless without a case I think" Mary said.

It sounded so knowing; Mary did seem to know Sherlock so well. Well, at least on the things that seemed to matter. John almost thought that Sherlock talked about his feelings with Mary, something he didn't think Sherlock capable of. Maybe it was because he considered Mary smart where as he sometimes acted as if John was about as intelligent as a two year old. With a touch of bitterness John recalled Sherlock's words, 'Tell Mary not to wait around'. Why should she anyway?

"Yeah, I guess. He'll be out of our hair at any rate for a few days" John said. He was surprised when Mary put her hands on his cheeks and turned his face toward her. She was grinning ear to ear.

"John Watson, you feel left out, don't you?" she asked, smiling too much for John's liking.

"What? No, of course I don't" John said quickly.

"Yes you do!" Mary said triumphantly. "Sherlock left and he didn't ask you to come with him and you're upset, aren't you?"

"No" John said flatly. It was weak at best; he did feel a bit put off. Cases with Sherlock were the highest in adventure and hated the thought that he was missing out.

"John….." Mary prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine" John relented, knowing that Mary had a knack for really pulling out information when she wanted to. "But you don't have to sound so happy about it"

Mary pulled herself close to John, giving him a crushing hug. "Oh, I'm not happy you're upset" she said, "I just like seeing you two admit you care."

"I don't care about him. He's a git" John said resentfully even though they both knew he was lying.

"Sherlock's just excited" Mary said reasonably. "He's been so long without a case I'm sure he was too excited to get out there. After this he'll remember they are no fun without you and take you along on the next one."

"Yeah, I bet he will when he sees that there is no one there to insult" John said grudgingly.

Mary captured his lips in a long kiss, melting away some of his anger before she pulled back and looked meaningful into his eyes. "You know, the good thing about having the flat to ourselves is that we can take an extra-long shower" she gave him a wink. "If you want to, that is"

John smiled, already feeling a rush. "Oh, I definitely want to."

….

Over the next week, John saw little of Sherlock. Sherlock was in the element that John so often saw of being completely enthralled and consumed with his problem. Sherlock was a man of extremes; when he wasn't working he could sit around for days and refuse to lay a finger on anything important but when he had a case, he could work for days, running on little to no food and sleep. He and Mary saw him only in snippets, where he would occasionally burst into the flat, muttering about axes or pocketknives, only to change his clothes or nap for no more than an hour before leaving again. Mary seemed to glow whenever he would grace them with his presence; she'd smile and encourage him about whatever nonsense remark he happened to make before he was gone. John mostly pretended that he didn't hear or see Sherlock when he was there.

John wasn't bitter about not being included; well, not very. No matter what he said to Mary, John missed the thrill of the chase and resented that he was stuck in his normal job while Sherlock was off doing God knows what else. John enjoyed being a doctor but being a general practitioner, fixing minor illness and injuries wasn't what he had always hoped for in a career of medicine. Being an army doctor had been much more his speed but obviously those days were over; he'd thrived on the pure adrenaline and stress that fixing up wound in the midst of battle had given him. Facing dangerous criminals with Sherlock was a close to second to that and as the hours had droned on at work, John found himself all too often thinking about what Sherlock might be doing at that moment. He had, many times, ignored Mary's advice to simply tell Sherlock that he wanted to help him with the case. If Sherlock didn't want him around, then he didn't want to be around him either.

Incidentally, not having Sherlock around meant that John and Mary had a lot more alone time. They were still newlyweds, after all, though they'd had little time alone together aside from the honeymoon. Mary's morning sickness seemed to be subsiding gradually and they were able to go out and do more things. Having evenings free without Mary insisting on babysitting Sherlock, John took advantage of it and they went out several times that week, having dinner, going to cinema and simply cuddling on the couch watching telly.

Though Mary's hormone related sickness was going away, John was glad to see that her high levels of hormones were still at work on other areas. As they sat in the back of a cab on the way home to 221B one night after having gone to see a film, Mary had proceeded to whisper in his ear the entire way home what she planned on doing to him when they got home. Despite the fact that Mary's hand was on his crouch and she didn't even move it, John was already hard by the time that they got home, an impressive feat on Mary's part.

They'd barely had the door closed when John had begun to rip of Mary's clothes and his own in record speed. With determined strength, he lifted Mary up and carried her to her their bedroom.

He'd known in the cab that it wasn't going to take long tonight and he wasn't wrong. Mary, who'd always been pretty good at dirty talk, was on special form tonight. John had never had the pleasure of ever having been talked to like Mary was talking to him and he was thoroughly impressed.

John could feel his release edging up when Mary said, "And what about Sherlock, John?"

Mary was on top of him, looking as beautiful as ever, and though the words gave John pause, Mary continued to move against him. "What?" John asked, trying to sound incredulous but under the circumstances it just sounded breathless.

"I said what about Sherlock" Mary said, getting a wicked glean in her eye that only aroused John more despite what he knew she was about to suggest. "You ever think about Sherlock? I bet you do, don't you? I bet sometimes when you wrap your hand around yourself, you imagine its Sherlock's hand. Those long, skilled fingers…..I bet they could work you just right. Just thinking about it makes you come, doesn't it?"

"Christ, Mary…don't talk about Sherlock right now" John said. Mary was still moving despite his putting his hands on her hips to try and stop her. It was a weak attempt at best but he didn't want start thinking about Sherlock now when he was so close to his release. He couldn't be thinking about him if he did finally come.

"Why not? I'm right, aren't I?" Mary asked wickedly. "You don't want to talk about Sherlock because you know you'll come, don't you? Because you have before…..you close your eyes and imagine he's between your legs, that you're run your fingers through those gorgeous curls while he sucks you off. Admit it…admit it, John"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" John asked, gasping out the words between Mary's hard thrusts. Somehow, he'd began to move again but he hoped that Mary didn't notice. He didn't know where this was coming from.

"There isn't anything wrong with me. I'm just imaging my two favorite men together. Don't even act like you're not enjoying it because I can tell" Mary breathed.

My two favorite men….John knew how Mary meant it and that she didn't mean what it sounded like. So why did it seem like such a loaded statement? Maybe because he'd already thought he'd seen something there? And why, with all of this, could John barely keep from giving into his release? He should be repulsed but like Mary said, he was clearly enjoying it.

Mary stopped abruptly, making John ache. When he tried to keep thrusting, Mary grabbed his face, bringing his attention to her face and not his aching cock. "Would you let me watch? If Sherlock really sucked you off you'd let me watch? Because that would be one of the hottest things that I could imagine."

"T-that….wouldn't…..happen" John said. He tried to push against Mary but she was firmly still. He was torn between wanting to keep from coming simply to keep from admitting any of this was getting to him but his throbbing convinced him that he was committed to seeing this through.

"Please, Mary…" John said, his voice desperate at his tried to get her to move. He could see it was an uphill battle when he saw the pleased smile on her face at his desperation.

"Admit it" Mary said, leaning forward to nip at his lips between words. "Tell me you think about Sherlock sometimes"

John didn't want to admit it but his need to come was pushing out logical thought. The truth was that technically he had thought about Sherlock about that way but he felt it ought not to count. He'd only given himself over to that line of thought after Sherlock's disappearance. John had been insanely lonely and it was only when he was thoroughly drunk. It didn't count, not in the ways that mattered; once he'd met Mary he'd put a stop to that destructive line of thought. He didn't even want to admit it but Mary knew she had him.

"Fine…yes. Yes" John said, his voice sounding desperate. "I do…..sometimes I do."

"Ah, there you go" Mary said, her voice sounding entirely too pleased. She immediately began to thrust against him again and John could tell that he'd come in no time now.

Mary's tongue traced his lip as she breathed against his ear. "Picture it's him now. Picture its him you're fucking, that that brilliant idiot is withering underneath you. He'd love it you know; I can see the way he looks at you. Everyone thinks it's just you that worships him but he adores you."

"Mary…don't" John cautioned slightly but they both knew it was a pointless battle. He could feel the pressure gathering below his belly and he didn't want Sherlock to be in his head when he gave in. Now, with Mary talking like that, he couldn't possibly get him out of his head.

"Oh, but John he does" Mary continued. "He looks at you like you're the brilliant one, like you're something he wants to devour. I bet he would try too; he'd to be on top. He'd criticize you with that voice of his, 'Not that way John, you're doing it wrong'" Mary said in an uncanny Sherlock impersonation, "'Fuck me harder, John, how do you expect me to come like that?'"

John didn't know what came over him. With one swift movement, John had pushed Mary back against the bed so he was on top, one hand against her shoulder holding her down, the other clamping down that filthy mouth of hers until he gave a few of the hardest, deepest thrusts he could manage and came harder than he could recall doing in years. Mary gasped underneath his hand, unable to call out, but he could feel her contracting against him as she came shortly after him.

John was shaking as he fell back against the bed next to Mary. They were both silent for what felt like an eternity but John didn't know what to say. John could see Mary smiling out of the corner of his eye but she wasn't saying anything. Already he could see small fingerprint sized bruises on her shoulder and John winced; had he really been holding her that hard? Mary always wanted him to be more aggressive, had asked for it on several occasions, but John couldn't bear to leave marks on her. His head had felt completely fogged; he felt like he'd been out of control. It was like being drunk but he hadn't drunk anything. Now that Mary's dirty talk high was tapering off, John felt dirty and ashamed. He hoped Mary didn't read too much into what had just happened. He had to admit the evidence was damning; she'd just tried to sound like Sherlock and he'd come in less than a minute. Someone might get the idea that the two were connected but really it had been building up; after all, she'd been talking to him with that filthy mouth since they were in the cab.

"Are you alright?" John asked. He kept his eyes on the ceiling because he couldn't look at her right now. He was afraid he might had been so rough with her that he'd hurt her.

"Are you kidding? I think that was one of the longest orgasms I've ever had" Mary said with a satisfied laugh. "I should be Sherlock more often"

John winced; so she was going to read to more into this. Why did she have to do that? Why did she have to bring Sherlock into the dirty talk? Everyone always assumed they were together and John had thought that would go away once he actually had a wife. Now, was his wife going to be part of it too? John wanted to ask her why she'd done it but really John was beginning to think that the best course of action might be to act like this had never happened and hope it went away.

"You know….all of that didn't mean anything. It was just dirty talk. It doesn't mean anything" John said firmly but evenly so he didn't act like he cared too much.

"Of course it doesn't" Mary said, curling up next to him. Even though she said it, she was grinning and John wasn't convinced she meant what she said.