John's new flat was in a beautiful building in a beautiful neighbourhood. He supposed it was Mycrofts way of trying to apologise to John. But it wasn't John who deserved an apology, it was never John. Perhaps he was trying to look after him for Sherlock's sake. John was grateful either way. He would not have been able to afford it without him.

John had finally gotten a new job, almost five months since the death of his best and closest friend in the world. In fact he was even planning to start his own practice. Baby steps though. Moving on from all that had happened was hard, but he was getting there. He could now say Sherlock's name without faltering on the first syllable. His nightmares were still there, they may never go away. But he had so many happy memories of Sherlock to make up for the bad.

Any time he found himself feeling sad, he just imagined the first adventure they ever embarked upon and their run around London. The laughter they shared upon returning to Baker Street. In fact any memory of Sherlock smiling or laughing was one that cheered him up. It also reminded him of how much he'd lost and how little others knew him. Some people saw him as a cold machine, incapable of emotion. Others saw that spark that John did. But he was one of the privileged few that saw the smiles, shared the laughter, could talk to him without ever saying a word.

So even though all those happy memories cheered him up, they would always contain that hint of sadness. They would always remind him of the brilliant soul the world had lost and will never see the likes again. But at least now he could stand to think of him without his heart aching too much or waking only to remember his friend wasn't in the next room, without crying into his pillow at night. He would never forget Sherlock but he felt like he was finally beginning to move on from his death.

John was so absorbed by his thoughts he didn't even notice the other person in the hallway until it was too late and her groceries were scattered along the floor, a carton of milk spilling his contents between the both of them. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry! Here let me help you" John immediately lifted himself from the ground and started to clean up the groceries.

"Oh no! It's ok really, I can manage"

"No, this was my fault, sorry, mind was elsewhere"

He used one of his hankies to begin to mop up the milk. "Look.. I'll buy you a new carton of...milk.." Those words, once so familiar, might have sparked a memory in him, had he not been absorbed by the woman in front of him. She was without a doubt the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. Her hair, honey blonde, her eyes as blue as the sky. As corny as it sounded, it was indeed love at first sight.

"Sorry.. sorry, should be paying attention" He gave a nervous chuckle, handing her some of the groceries and helping her lug them into her apartment. She smiled shyly. "It's ok. Besides, this has given me a chance to meet a new neighbour." John grinned, placing the groceries on her counter. "Oh you just moved in?" She nodded. "Yeah, just moved in. Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Mary. Mary Morstan" She held out a hand, John took it eagerly. "John, John Watson. I live across the hall"

"It's nice to meet you John"

"Likewise...oh..I should probably leave you, don't want your husband getting ideas" This will tell me if she's available, least thats what he hoped. "Oh.. I'm not married, Im single" She flashed her hand and John felt his spirit soar. He hadn't felt like this with a woman for a long time. Normally he went on dates for a chance at a relationship but he had never felt about them they way he did her and he couldn't even explain it.

"Listen... do you want to go get a coffee sometime? Sorry.. that was way to blunt of me. Should really keep my mouth shut"

"No..I'd like that"

"Really?"

She giggled, he was adorable when he was flustered. "Really"

"Tomorrow, 12 o'clock?"

"Tomorrow, John."

He said his goodbye and closed her door, virtually skipping to his own. This was something different, this was something special. Back again was the spark and adventure in his heart.

"So what sort of things are you interested in?..Sorry I'm really bad at this"

"That makes two of us then. Well, I love stories. Adventure, mysteries and detective stories."

John raised his eyebrows at the last one. "Detective stories?"

"Yeah, though I doubt there could ever be as easy to solve as those. Looking at someone and knowing everything, bit fairytale. Still, they always sound exciting and are wonderfully written"

"Well, some people can solve mysteries just that quick you know."

"Oh, an expert on detectives are we?" She teased, not noticing the split second of sadness in his eyes."

"Yeah I know a guy"

"Do tell."

"First time we met, he took one look at me and knew my whole life story"

"John, don't tease" Mary laughed, the light catching her hair and transfixing him.

"I'm not, I'm one hundred percent serious" Her eyes widened, delight and surprise spreading across her features. "You aren't lying?..Please tell me more, John."

So he told her. About this amazing man he had as a friend and the things he could do, the adventures they went on. And she loved them, here was someone who was like him. Who thrived on adventure and the trill of danger. The only thing he didn't tell her was that his friend was dead. Because while he was with her, telling her these stories, he could pretend, just for awhile, that Sherlock wasn't really dead.

Mary was wonderful. She was a school teacher, she adored detective and mystery stories. Adventure stories, fantasy stories. She was very smart, in John's opinion and extremely beautiful. She was never afraid to speak her mind and although she had been initially shy, now he saw her true self. Cheeky, stubborn, full of adventure and love. And best of all, she adored John.

They'd been only dating for about two weeks but it felt like two years. John could see himself spending the rest of his life with her. The two of them had so much in common and he couldn't help wondering if a certain detective had a hand in sending her here. Sherlock. He knew one day he would have to tell her the truth but he didn't have the heart just yet. One day, he'd take her to meet him.

He was certain he would have liked her.