I figure since I wrote it, I might as well post it.

Who needs sleep anyhow!

"So you figured it out then?" John asked, stepping off the lift.

"Of course she did John, she may not be our Mary but she's still just as smart." Sherlock whispered to him, "I'll be over there." He gave John a sad but hopefully reassuring smile and headed over to where River, Amy and Rory were standing.

"Look, Mary... You should know..." John started.

"I know you're not my John." She said, "I figured out that much from what Rose told me... I just... I wanted to talk to you is all." She looked down, "Rose... Told me your wife died before she gave birth... Was your wife an alternate..."

"Version of you? Yeah... She had shorter blonde hair, and was a liar... She never told me about her past when we first got together. I'm assuming that's different here?"

"Yeah. I got involved with Torchwood right out of med school, which is where I met John. It was an instant connection, I've never experienced anything like it. When he enlisted, we got married... I got pregnant shortly after the wedding and he deployed around my fifth month."

"Then he got shot?"

"Trying to save his team." She smiled sadly.

"And did he save them?"

"Yeah... Got every last one of them to the helicopter, that's when they got him. Shot him in the back, it went right through his heart. They said he hesitated for just a moment, looking for this..." A tear fell as she pulled the black book out of her pocket.

"You know... Death is a part of war, it's not your fault, Mary." John softened his brow and placed his hand on her face, cupping her cheek and wiping away a tear that escaped. Sherlock winced looking at the sight from the other side of the hall. The action made the three companions pay closer attention to what was happening.

"Yeah, but had I not sent him this picture of Johanna..." She opened the cover of the book to show the picture taped to the inside, "He didn't want to lose it."

"Well yeah, she's gorgeous." John smiled softly, "I'd have gone back for it too."

"You should have it." Mary held the book to him.

"No, I couldn't possibly..." John said, holding his hands up, stepping back.

"No, really. I want you to. It gave me strength when he died... And while I know I'm not the same Mary... I'd like to think you two would have had a little girl."

"Yeah, but we probably would have named her Sherlock." John joked.

"Sherlock's not a girls name..." Amy said, eavesdropping on the conversation.

"It could be, you don't know." Sherlock replied, staring helplessly at his flatmate and Mary.

"He's not going to stay, don't worry about that." River said.

"How can you possibly know that?" Sherlock said.

"Yeah, the Doctor said Rose's mum stayed here with the alternate version of her dead husband." Rory said, and Amy slapped his arm.

"Shut. Up." She said, "Don't worry Sherlock, that won't happen.

"If you'll just excuse me... I think I'd like to be alone." Sherlock walked around the corner, and John watched him leave.

"But all I'm saying is... John, it will get easier." Mary said, her eyes lightening as an idea crossed her mind.

"I know." John said, his heart picking up its pace as he wondered what Sherlock must be thinking.

"Sometimes it's easier when you have someone to help you cope too..."

"I'm sorry?" He asked, averting his eyes from the now empty wall space where Sherlock was.

"I'm just saying... Maybe it's a good thing you guys were brought here. Maybe you and I could go out sometime?" She nudged him.

"I'm..." He looked into Mary's eyes, seeing the hope spark, "I'm sorry, Mary. I am. But my wife died... You may look like her... But you're not the same, and that Mary was important to me, she really was. But the only other important person in my life... The one who helped me cope, just walked around that corner, and I have to go tell him what he means to me before I lose all my nerve."

"But... J-John, I-" She stammered.

"No... I'm sorry." He pushed the book back into her hands, "Goodbye Mary."

John left the wide eyed nurse standing by the lift as he ran after Sherlock. He rounded the corner and found the curly headed detective leaning against a wall.

"Sherlock."

"John." He looked at the shorter man, a far off look in his eyes.

"I have something that I need to say." John said, gathering what little nerve he had.

"So say it." Sherlock put his head against the wall, closing his eyes, preparing for the speech about how he was staying with Mary.

"Ok... here it goes..." He took a deep breath before continuing.

"You are with out a doubt, the biggest arse I have ever met. You're rude, cold, and don't know when to stop dissecting a person's every move. You came into my life and flipped it upside down. You've nearly gotten me killed, and I have killed for you. Somewhere along the way everyone decided we were the most important people to each other and I've made it very clear that I am not gay. Which I'm not... But you, Sherlock... You have made my life worth living.

"My wife died. And you picked me up and helped me continue. For some reason I seem to be the only exception to your 'caring is not an advantage' rule and I really couldn't be happier. I am honored to be your best friend, really I am. It is a privilege to work along side you. It makes me feel like I have a purpose in life. But amidst all the death and danger and murder... Somewhere in all the fighting and running and science experiments, and apparently travel through time and space... I managed to fall in love with you.

"With you! Sherlock bloody Holmes. The sociopath. The man who's married to his work! And I can't go back home until I've told you this or I'll go mad. So there... And do try to say something. Don't just think it. Say it out loud." John stopped his confession and took a deep breath, balling his hands into fists.

Sherlock stepped away from the wall, taking a deep breath himself, processing the information he'd just received. John waited in silence for the man to answer.

Finally, a small smile formed on the detective's face as he formulated his response.

WHAT! I'm gonna pass out now!