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Two smaller chapters in a row again.

Disclaimer: 'Sherlock' belongs to all the important people that you know. Also, credit to Ariane DeVere for her series transcripts that had been extremely helpful.

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The ex-soldier had made him laugh, genuinely laugh, for the second time in a day. It had been years since anyone achieved this feat, and was proof enough that Joan would be a suitable flatmate for him. Her shooting skills and medical expertise were a mere bonus to this. He started to make his way towards the main street, sure that his new mystery would follow. "That's true" he answered her earlier quip, for once quite eager to simply banter with someone. "He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took to get us here!" Watson couldn't repress a giggle at this, a sound Sherlock promptly catalogued as nice, and it was in such contrast with her 'appropriate' exterior that he couldn't suppress an amused snort in return.

"Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene!"

"Don't blame me, you're the one who shot him." While Joan was making fake excuses to the passing Donovan, who wore her usual I'm-too-busy-for-this expression, Sherlock took these seconds to compile an action plan.

Fact: Joan was good company to him.

Fact: Joan seemed to appreciate his company too.

Suggested course of action: keep the flatmate arrangement active. Confirmed.

Identifying possible throwbacks.

Fact: John didn't have time to observe him in his usual setting, without a case.

Estimating negative impact on the relationship. High risk detected, implementing countermeasures.

Assumption A: establishing positive impressions earlier on will prevent the point of non-return.

He glanced quickly at the woman besides him. She was looking at him with a slightly crooked smile and a knowing glint in her eyes. "You were going to take that damn pill, weren't you?"

Fact: he had put himself in immediate danger. Fact: doctors value people's life. Fact: soldiers protect people's life.

Assumption B: John Watson doesn't endorse this particular decision of his.

Suggested course of action: Deny.

"Course not. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."

"No, you didn't." Action failure. Identifying alternative strategies. "It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

"Why would I do that?" he asked on auto-pilot.

Suggested cou…"Because you're an idiot." There was no judgement or disapproval in her voice. She was smiling openly, but not in scorn. It was fond. Of him. He felt his lips stretch in a smile in return. Imminent system overload. Engage safety protocols. Channeling thought process to ancillary paths.

Fact: he was going to keep her. Fact: John hadn't finished her dinner at Angelo's. Fact: People feel better after a meal. Suggested course of action: Feed her. "Dinner?"

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They had almost made it to the other side of the security perimeter, when an already familiar black car pulled over, making them both sigh in tired resignation. Sherlock took off with angry strides to meet his meddling brother, Joan following at a more sedated pace. Mycroft emerged from the back seat with an attitude to match royals.

"So, another case cracked. How very public spirited… though that's never really your motivation, is it?"

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock hissed in response.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you."

"Yes, I've been hearing about your concern." He spat the last word like poison.

"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, no!"

A barely muffled snort interrupted their quarrelling routine. With identical raised eyebrows, Holmes brothers looked at the disturbance, in person of one very amused Joan Watson. She smiled back innocently. "Oh, please continue, I'll just grab some popcorn." Holmeses huffed in unison, affronted, which made Sherlock glare heatedly at his sibling for daring to imitate him. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"My offer still stands, Doctor Watson."

"Are you seriously trying to recruit me to spy on your brother in front of him?" she snapped, still with a pleasant smile frozen on her face.

"I do need all help I can get to watch over him."

Joan nodded silently, not sure if she was agreeing with the oldest brother or just expressing her dismay at the siblings' relationship. Deciding that it didn't matter anyway, she turned to Sherlock. "So, dim sum?"

Sherlock, who was reeling from Mycroft's audacity, happily jumped on the wagon of ignoring his spying relative. "Yes. I can always predict the fortune cookies" he announced, leading Joan away from the black car and in the general direction of Baker Street.

"No, you can't!"

"Almost can" he amended. "You did get shot, though."

Joan didn't expect the sudden subject change. "Sorry?"

"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound."

I won't ask why he's bringing it up now. "Oh yeah. Shoulder."

"Shoulder! I thought so."

She gave him a measuring glance. "No, you didn't."

"The left one."

"Lucky guess."

"I never guess."

"Yes, you do!" she laughed. It's was easy to banter with the man, despite his initial coldness. Even if most people didn't seem to get it, she could live with it.