Author's Note: This chapter is a little more fluffy than usual...but for Watson/Mary rather than Holmes/Irene. Apologies to the Sherene fans and also to the ones who favour a bit
of Holmes/Watson slash! Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter...I've been trying to focus on characterisation, and I'd love to know what you guys think! Enjoy! =)

The Grande was one of Holmes' favourite places to eat on an evening. When he was in the mood to be civilised, he would book a table and they would serve him his favourite entrecote steak with asparagus and red wine sauce. The atmosphere was calm, the people were friendly, and although Holmes did not care for the quality of the violin music, the pretty face of the first cellist was more than enough for him to put up with it.

Directly underneath one of the ornate carved arches that made up the ceiling of the restaurant and dance hall, Watson and Mary sat at their usual table. A waiter with a quite obvious limp showed Holmes to the table, and Watson stood up to greet him.

"Holmes! So glad you could make it, old chap."

Holmes shook Watson by the hand and stole a look around his companion to where Mary was seated at the table. The first time Holmes had met her -in this same restaurant and at the very same table- she had been nervous and cordial; always aware of the fact that she was meeting her fiancée's very closest friend and desperate to make a good impression. Now as Holmes looked at her, it was clear the tables had turned. Mary was no longer anxious, but rather comfortable, and safe in the knowledge that she was happily married and there was no longer any need to worm her way into Holmes' affections.

Watson saw Holmes watching Mary, and leaned in close to hiss into his friend's ear. "Remember...Be nice!"

"If the good lady sees fit also..." Holmes switched on a charming smile he felt sure Mary saw straight through. "A pleasure, Mary dear. How aggrieved I am to learn that your daughters are not yet sleeping through the night."

Watson's gaze leapt suspiciously to Holmes' face. Mary appeared puzzled.

"Why...What do you mean, Mr Holmes?"

"Only that the young ladies are awake for a large portion of the night," Holmes said as he took his seat, "And how sorry I am that you are getting so little sleep."

Mary looked worriedly from Holmes to her husband, and then back again once she saw that Watson too had no idea where his friend was leading.

"I am sorry to correct you," Mary said slowly, "But both Rose and Tilly sleep comfortably. Neither John nor myself have any trouble sleeping at night."

"I'm afraid the dark circles under your eyes say otherwise." Holmes unfolded his napkin and tucked it into his collar, helping himself to a slice of bread. "Barely noticeable, but even so, your fair colouring and the current lighting makes it painfully obvious you are sleep-deprived."

If not for the public position of their table, Watson would have buried his face in his hands out of despair. He compromised by shooting a final warning glare at Holmes, and then taking an extraordinarily large gulp of wine.

"You are...incorrect in your deductions, Mr Holmes," Mary said, visibly counting to ten in order to calm herself down. "John is a light sleeper, and he can vouch for the fact that I do not leave bed at night to go to the nursery." She looked over at Watson. "Isn't that the case, darling?"

"She's right, Holmes," Watson said, praying that this final blow would bring an end to his friend's ridiculous games for the evening. He doubted very much that it would.

"You employ a nanny, do you not?"

"Yes, we do," said Mary.

"And she is the one who attends to the girls at night?"

"That is correct."

"Then is it not your maternal bond to your daughters that causes you to wake every time one of them cries? The same bond that will keep you lying awake in bed for hours at a time because the presence of a nanny means there is no need for you to leave the bedroom yourself and see to them?"

"If that is the case, then why would John not wake as well?" Mary almost snapped.

"A mother's instinct is perhaps the one thing my worthy colleague does not possess," Holmes answered. The smile he gave Mary was one not lacking in its complacency. "Luckily for you, dear, they will grow out of it. In the meantime, perhaps a more strict method of parenting would be beneficial. Crying is a child's way of seeking attention, and if ignored, the child will soon stop." Holmes glanced at Watson. "Basic parenting techniques, Watson. You should learn how to apply them."

"How many children do you have, Mr Holmes?" Mary asked icily.

"None," Holmes answered. "But I'm sure you already know that...which leads me to wonder why you are asking...?"

"I was just interested to know where your expertise in childcare came from..."

"I had a younger brother," Holmes said indifferently. "And to be brutally honest, my dear, I'm surprised you don't already know that the best way to raise a child is with a firm hand and a lot of love. Regulation and love go hand in hand." He broke off a chunk of bread, chewed and swallowed, then went back for more. "For example, who is the disciplinarian in your marriage?"

Watson and Mary looked blankly at each other

"Disciplinarian?" Mary asked.

"Yes." Holmes looked back and forth between the couple before him. "Disciplinarian. Who is the one that hands out punishments and harsh words? Who controls the daily routine of the family? Who keeps the other on the shortest leash?"

"Holmes..." Watson made an effort to interrupt, but Holmes ignored him.

"When the girls are in bed and you get a few hours to yourselves on an evening? Who decides what you do?"

"Holmes, please..."

"When you go up to bed together, who wants to take it slowly, and who throws the other down on the bed and..."

"OH look, the food is here!" Watson jumped to his feet, looking as though he might kiss the waiter who had arrived just in time with covered silver trays of food. He smiled widely at Mary. "Look, sweetheart, the food is here!"

"So it is..." Mary cleared her throat and managed to smile at the waiter as he laid a plate of braised lamb and vegetables in front of her.

Watson received his seared sea bass and began to eat, sending up prayers of thanks to God that the appearance of steak and asparagus had distracted Holmes from his analysis of his and Mary's love-life. But it was not to last long. When his steak was only half-finished, Holmes set down his cutlery.

"Mary, have you ever considered plugging your ears before bed?"

"What on Earth for?" Mary was caught halfway between confusion at the subject and dread of what was to come.

"So that you are no longer awoken by the cries of your daughters during the night."

"Holmes, please let's move on and discuss a new subject!" Watson was watching Mary, and could see the wrath gathering on her face. The last thing he needed was an angry wife at dinner.

"No." Mary's voice was sharp, and trembling with concealed anger. "No, I have not."

"I would recommend it." Holmes took up his knife again. "Or if you prefer, I have recently perfected a strong sedative which I would be happy to..."

"Holmes!"

Watson's voice finally got through to Holmes, and he stopped talking; if only for a minute to finish his steak. When he was done, he looked between Watson and Mary with an amused smile on his face.

"We never did decide which of you was the disciplinarian..." He examined the furious glare that Mary was shooting him across the table, and met her eye for perhaps the first time. "Then again, it seems silly to ask when the answer is right before one's eyes..."

Mary stood up abruptly and turned to her husband. "If you'll excuse me," she said hotly, "I must powder my nose. Which way to the lavatory, darling?"

Watson pointed the direction, and Mary stalked off to the lavatory.

"Holmes," Watson said, surprised at how remarkably calm his voice sounded. "Please tell me you did not just offer to sedate my daughters with a drug you tested out on my dog..?"

"It was merely a proposal for you to consider."

"And I suppose this would be the same drug that has been shown to cause moderately permanent paralysis and a slowed heart-rate to the point where the tested party is thought to be dead?"

"The very same." Holmes swallowed the last mouthful of his asparagus. "In fact, I would be interested to see the effect the drug has on humans if you would be willing to let me use young Tilly and Rose as examples..."

"You are...You are unbelievable!" Watson exploded.

"Actually, that was a joke," Holmes told him. "You know as well as I do that I would never use your daughters as test-objects."

Watson took a deep, calming breath. "I know that," he said. "I know that because I have known you, lived with you and worked with you for years. But Mary hasn't that level of experience. She doesn't know when you are 'joking' or when you are actually offering to test a dangerous and not to mention illegal drug on our daughters!"

"I doubt it would have made much difference, Watson," Holmes said shortly. "Your wife seems to have taken an avid dislike to me..."

"You offered to anesthetise our children..."

"To help you sleep at night."

"You called her a tyrant..."

"I called her a disciplinarian."

"You pried impertinently into our personal lives..."

"Only to examine you as a couple."

"You instructed her as to how to raise our own children..."

"I merely offered advice."

"And you told her she has bags under her eyes!" Watson laughed sardonically. "Do you know what, Holmes? I can't imagine why Mary seems not to like you!" He sighed and gulped again at his glass of wine. "Besides, Mary is...emotional at present..."

"Why so?"

"Look, Holmes, I think it might be best if you go home..." Watson acted as if he had not heard Holmes' last question.

"I haven't yet paid for my portion of the meal..."

"I'll pay for you," Watson said wildly, "Please, Holmes, just go before Mary gets back from the lavatory." He smiled wryly at his old friend. "I need time to change Mary's opinion of you before putting to her that I plan to head off to India with you at the end of this week."

"If it will cause problems with your wife, I would be more than happy to go alone," Holmes informed him. "Besides, there is no guarantee I'll be able to get you a ticket."

"If that's the case, then I will return home," Watson said. "But as I've already told you, I am not prepared to bear the consequences should I allow you and Irene to head off to India by yourselves."

"Neither of us require a chaperone."

"Not individually," said Watson. "But I was here the last time you and Adler got together and I well remember what happened." He raised an eyebrow, keeping one eye on the lavatory door for the reappearance of his wife. "At least let me come as a foreign liaison officer...I can ensure you and Adler are aware of the laws of the province and that you stick to them."

Holmes got to his feet. "If you are willing to explain to Irene why I have brought you along, then I will be only too happy to have you by my side."

"That shall not be a problem." Watson smiled. "I have dealt with bigger challenges than Irene Adler!"

"Then I'm sure we'll spend an enjoyable time together." Holmes shook Watson's hand. "Good evening, Watson. Do tell your dear wife that I said goodbye..."

Almost as soon as Holmes had left the restaurant, Mary reappeared back from the lavatory. She sat down at the table and looked around with a puzzled expression. "Where has Holmes gone?" she asked Watson. "I didn't see him get up..."

"Holmes thought it best to leave for the evening," Watson told her with a smile. "He has a client to meet early tomorrow morning."

"I see." Mary smiled, suddenly relaxed. "More wine, darling?"

"Yes please." Watson sipped at his glass. He decided there was no need to beat about the bush. "Mary, there is something I've been meaning to ask you...A proposition, if you will. If involves Holmes and myself, and..."

Before he could finish, the waiter came up to the table with a bottle of expensive-looking champagne.

"Champagne?" Mary's eyes gleamed as she looked at her husband. "Oh, John, did you?"

"I..." Watson blinked. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I don't believe we ordered champagne..."

"I realise that, sir, but this was sent as a gift from the member of your party who has just left," the waiter said, laying down the bottle on the table. "He asked me to inform you that he has taken care of the bill himself, and also to pass on a message of congratulations for the imminent addition to your family."

Mary and Watson gulped simultaneously.

"He said what?" Watson asked, but the waiter was already long gone.

Mary looked across at her husband, totally shocked by what she had just heard.

"How...How could he possibly have known?" she gasped. "He didn't even look at me when I got up from the table..." Watson noticed that her hands had flown absent-mindedly to rest on the slight bulge of her stomach.

"Holmes' methods of deduction are second to none," Watson answered, shaking his head and smiling privately to himself.

"But the bill...the champagne..."

"He is a generous man..." He took Mary's hand and stroked the diamond ring that nestled on her finger. "Surely your ring is proof of that..." Watson picked up the bottle of champagne, shaking his head again. "Of course, it would never occur to Holmes to make the link between champagne and the dangerous effects excess alcohol can have on a developing foetus..."

"Take it to him," Mary said, sliding the bottle across the table towards her husband. "Take it and give it to Holmes as a way of thanks." There was a twinkle in her eye as she looked at Watson. "And when you two get back from your forthcoming trip to goodness knows where, I will meet with him again and thank him in person."

Watson gave her a look. "How did you know I was going to ask about going away with Holmes?"

"Your friend is not the only one with amazing powers of deduction," Mary giggled. "I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep the pair of you apart for long. And I am fine with that." She straightened her face, suddenly serious. "Just please be careful, John," she said quietly. "I remember what happened the last time...And if I'm honest, I am not sure if I trust Holmes to look after you properly."

"You are amazing," Watson said, genuinely awestruck. He leaned over to kiss her. "I never thought you would be happy about letting me go off with him...particularly after that little show at dinner."

"It is true that Holmes is not my favourite person at present," Mary said. "He never has been. He is rude, and uncouth, and self-satisfied, but we have one thing in common...We both care very deeply about you."

Watson raised an eyebrow. "I am hoping in different ways...?"

"In entirely different ways," Mary laughed. "But if being married to you means that I have to put up with Holmes, then put up with Holmes I shall!" She accepted another kiss from her husband, returning his ready smile. "So where are you off to this time?"

"India."

Mary swallowed. "India?" She laughed nervously. "I was hoping for something a little closer to home, but I suppose it can't be helped. When do you leave?"

"From Victoria station on the 21st."

"Will you be back in time for the girls' birthday?"

"I very much hope so." Watson sneaked a hand under the table and rubbed the bulge of her belly. "And if not, I shall certainly be back in time to welcome this little one into the world..."

Mary smiled and put her own hand under the table on top of Watson's. They stayed where they were for a few seconds, and then Watson got to his feet.

"Perhaps we should go now...Unless there is anything else you want..? It's on Holmes..."

"I'm fine, thank you, darling." Mary slipped her arm through her husband's and let me lead her towards the exit. It was getting late, and both of the Watsons were longing for firelight and the familiar sounds of their two little daughters back at the family home.

"When the baby is born," Watson began, "Would you consider letting Holmes attend the christening this time?"

"Perhaps..." Mary considered. "Do you think he will behave himself?"

"Very unlikely."

"Then it is equally unlikely he will receive an invitation." Mary looked over at Watson as he hailed a cab on the street outside the restaurant. "He is a funny man, isn't he? Has he ever been married?"

"Never." Watson helped Mary to climb into the cab and then jumped in after her, closing the door. "Trust me when I say that Holmes is most definitely not the marrying type!"

"But then has he never had a love interest?" Mary shook her head. "He is a peculiar man, but surely he is not incapable of love..."

Watson smiled knowingly and lowered his voice so that the cab driver could not listen in to their conversation.

"It is funny you should mention it," he whispered. "Let me tell you about a certain woman named Irene Adler..."