Sherlock was surprisingly nervous about meeting Mary. She was one of the few people from Jo's past that his friend really cared about; other than Mary, the only other person she had even mentioned was her paternal grandfather, and Sherlock wasn't even sure if he was still living or not. Jo looked a little nervous as well, but he was fairly certain that that was just because she wanted them to get along. They had decided to walk to Angelo's because it wasn't that far and they were both feeling a bit restless. Jo led them to a tall brunette in a dress that was just a little bit too short, her small smile breaking into a grin.

"Have you been waiting long?" Jo asked after hugging her friend.

Mary shook her head. "No, I've only been here a few minutes; although, I'm expecting a call from the shop, so I'll have to duck out for a few minutes. Sorry."

"No problem," she answered happily, grabbing hold of Sherlock's arm and pulling him forward. "Mary, I want you to meet Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, Mary Morstan."

They shook hands and Mary looked him up and down before grinning. "She could have done much worse. You're very pretty." Sherlock blushed and spluttered, not really sure what he was supposed to say to that.

Jo rolled her eyes, somehow managing to look stern and fond at the same time (an expression that Sherlock was more than familiar with; although usually it was directed at him). "Don't be awful Mary; you promised to be nice. And we don't want anyone to know, so you have to keep this to yourself."

"Oh, of course," she answered, looking chastened. "Mum's the word. You can count on me."

She smiled brightly. "We should go inside before Angelo gives the good table away."

"I called him earlier to make a reservation," Sherlock said, feeling as if he should contribute something to the conversation. "And I'm fairly certain that he would give us any table we asked for at this point."

Jo gave him that same stern/fond look as they stepped inside. "True, but that would be taking advantage, which is a bit not good." Sherlock's heart stuttered; it had been ages since he had heard those words, and the knowledge that Jo was still willing to act like it was completely normal for someone's moral compass to be another person released a ball of tension that he hadn't known he was carrying until it was gone.

Dinner was much the same as it always was, except that now there were three of them in a booth, so Sherlock and Jo were sitting just a bit too close together on the bench. Sherlock spent most of his time watching the two women interact. He had known that they had been friends since they were young, Jo had told him that much, but he hadn't quite managed to anticipate just what that meant. They finished each other's sentences and moved seamlessly from one story to another, sometimes even mirroring the other's posture and mannerisms. He was able to recognize which phrases and speech patterns they had traded and wondered which ones dated back to the beginning of their friendship. It was simultaneously fascinating and frustrating because, while there was a lot about their relationship that he was able to deduce, there was more that he was completely unable to see.

When Mary excused herself about twenty minutes into dinner to answer her phone, Jo turned to Sherlock with a hesitant smile. "We're not excluding you, are we? You've been very quiet."

"Why didn't things work out between you two?" He asked, ignoring her question. "You two seem very compatible; I can't imagine the sexual component was unsatisfactory."

Jo sighed. "For the record, I was going to tell you about my relationship with Mary; I just wanted to wait until you had met her so that you would have the necessary context."

"Okay," he answered since she looked like she needed the reassurance that he believed her; he didn't say anything else though, waiting for her to answer his question.

She sighed again, shaking her head. "We just wanted different things. We were always friends first, and we started sleeping together while we were in uni because we were young and bored and we needed stress relief that you didn't have to smoke. Mary's not the monogamous type, and I've always been far too good at compartmentalization. We'd break it off if I found someone I wanted to date seriously, but it never hurt our friendship. We continued on and off until she moved back to the States during my last tour. She came back to London about six months after I met you, but we didn't start shagging again until after you jumped. I broke it off when I found out you were alive because I knew that I wanted to give this a try and I couldn't do it if I was still sleeping with her."

"Okay," he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I was just wondering; I wasn't accusing you of anything."

Jo grinned, looking incredibly relieved. "Good. It's just that there aren't many people who are willing to even try and understand this; I know that it's unconventional at best."

"A lot of what we do is unconventional at best," he replied fondly. "I don't expect your past to be anything else."

The rest of the meal went far better than Sherlock had expected it to. He made it a point to engage in the conversation more: partly because he knew that it would make Jo happy, but mostly because he found Mary to be interesting (although why he expected Jo's best friend to be anything other than interesting was a mystery even to him). He had always found tattoos to be fascinating and finding a conversational partner who was knowledgeable on the subject was a treat, and that was besides the obvious overlap of interest that came from her career as a barrister. Jo held her own in the conversation, of course, but she did pull back a bit, letting them get to know each other. Sherlock kept stealing glances at his partner (Life-mate? Other-half? He really needed to discus titles with her at some point) and found her looking completely content. They were in the middle of dessert when Jo excused herself to used the bathroom, leaving Mary and Sherlock by themselves.

"I'm not a threat to you, you know," Mary said, breaking the silence that had fallen as soon as Jo had left.

Sherlock blinked at her. "Excuse me."

"If you're half as brilliant as Jo says you are, then you've already figured out that Jo and I used to shag," she answered pleasantly. "And I'm telling you that I'm not a threat to you.

"I've never been a til death do us part kind of girl, and Jo's fun in bed, but she's always wanted someone to commit to. I want her to be happy, so I'm not going to sabotage her shot at monogamy. And Jo's always been able to make a clean break, so don't be weird about this because there's no need for you to worry."

He nodded, a bit taken aback at her blunt honesty. "Thank you, I suppose. I wasn't worried, though."

"Good," she replied, smiling brightly. "I'm glad we've had this chat. I find that things work a lot smoother when you're up front about them." Sherlock agreed and moved the conversation back onto more comfortable, and less emotional, ground.