Mary was pleased to hear John news, although he left out the part about his old friend Moran. He didn't want her to worry anymore than she should. She was so oddly and hugely relieved that John found himself confused and concerned. But she refused to tell him anything. Complained that Mycroft had sworn her to secrecy to keep the men and herself, safe. The doctor was suspicious but didn't press the matter. She was safe and happy and thats all he really cared about.
"I'm sorry John." I wish I could tell you. I really, really do.
"Right, right, it's alright Mary."
"You seem, rattled John. Is everything ok?"
"Yes, just a bit stressed thats all. Sorry love. I've just been so worried about you." He leaned down and pressed his lips against her cheek and tightly held her hand.
"Well I'm alright dear."
"I know. That's brilliant, just focus on getting better. It's your turn to make spaghetti remember?" His eyes lit up as he teased her.
"Cheeky bastard."
When Sherlock awoke the next morning, he found that his room was once again filled with hideous flowers, get well cards and a large plush otter. God why? Of all things..an otter? He supposed he ought to put up with it this time. They meant "well". Whatever that meant. And for some reason the otter was growing on him.
"I see you are back with us then, Charlie." Mycroft's crisp, elegant voice sounded from the hallway located to his left. Wonderful. Wait Charlie? Oh, alias. Of course.
"Yes, of course...oh! Mary is?" I'm not worried, merely curious.
"Fine. Just fine. Happy to see John again."
"John?" Yes I am sure she would be. They're very close. Too close.
"He plans to ask her to marry him." WHAT? No. No, no, no, no, a huge pile of negatives. He can't get married! The two of them could never go on cases again or adventures. He'd want to spend time with her. Have an ordinary life, an ordinary job with a...well ok she wasn't ordinary. But John wasn't supposed to fall in love and get married! What was Sherlock supposed to do without him?
Oh but John you are anything but ordinary. Please don't do this, don't go and settle for an average life. But...maybe you should. Maybe you'd be happier. Safer. Sherlock sighed.
"Finished your internal musings, dear brother?"
"What? No, I mean yes. I mean, good for him." Not.
"I'm sure if he knew, he'd be thrilled to have your blessing." Mycroft's brow furrowed at Sherlock's seemingly quiet acceptance and moved to sit down next to him, picking up the plush otter as he went past. It brought a smile to his other wise sour expression.
"From Molly. She said it reminded her of you."
"I remind her of an otter?" That silly girl.
"Well I believe Miss Adler may have slightly influenced her." Statistically more likely, thought Sherlock.
"I see and the flowers? Are they necessary?"
"I think they brighten up the place, personally. I am not removing them, Sherlock. They make this room smell wonderful."
Sherlock fought the urge to roll his eyes or pretend to gag like he might have once upon a time. Fine they could stay. They did brighten up an other wise bland and sterile room.
"Well I better go, I should check on Miss Mary and John. So much legwork these days Sherlock. I must have lost even more weight by now." He expected or hoped for some sort of witty remark or comment but received nothing.
"Good for you Mycroft." Not bloody likely.
Mycroft frowned again, wishing for more or another answer. Still nothing. A flash of disappoint crossed his face when he didn't receive it.
"Yes, quite. Well, see you soon. Get better quickly Sherlock." No thanks Mycroft.
"Breathe, just breathe."
"Don't you bloody tell me to breath, Greg Lestrade! You aren't the one in labour!" Greg paled.
"Strictly speaking neither are you. It was a false alarm so please calm down and breathe. People are staring."
"What, they've never seen a pregnant woman before? It's a hospital Greg! Say that again, I dare you." He shouldn't have said that. Bad idea. Very, very bad.
"No, no. I'm sorry. Very sorry." Very, very sorry. Oh God am I sorry. Please don't kill me.
"Good, now help me up." Greg did as he was told, but as soon as she was up, his phone began to ring. He didn't pick it up right away, preferring to hum absentmindedly to his football anthem until his wife slapped him over the head. Boy was she in a bad mood. And she weighed a - don't go there Greg. Do not go there. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and quickly answered the call.
"Hel-lo?"
"Greg? It's Mycroft Holmes." Of course it's you. It's always you isn't.
"Oh! Right. How's Mary and John?"
"Reunited. That is in fact why I wish to speak to you. They have been reunited, but at a cost."
"Shit."
"Mary is alright but currently in the same hospital as you and your wife. She'll recover fairly quickly however. Not to worry. Thought you ought to know."
"Wait how did you know- never mind. Anna and I will go and see them now. False alarm."
"I know." Of course you do.
"Thanks anyway. For the heads up. Glad they're back together."
"As am I. I dread to think what lengths John would have gone to if they weren't." Lestrade laughed.
"He's a stubborn, resourceful sort of bloke."
"Indeed. See you soon Inspector. Very soon." Crap.
"Look forward to it!" Not really. No offence.
They both hung up at the same time and Greg turned to look at his confused and worried wife.
"There's something I need to tell you."