A/N – I offer some more undying gratitude to ScopesMonkey. Thank you again!

Before

I have no idea why John was so insistent that I attend this function. I have only met Dr. Stevens on five occasions, why do I care that he's moving to America? I'd like it if you'd attend, John had said. He'd spoken in the tone that suggested it was in my best interests, sexually, if I decided to attend, so here I am.

I sigh and begin to look around for John. He's easy to spot at the far end of the bar sitting with a woman I don't know. His back is to me and I make my way towards him. I keep my eyes on her as I do so.

She has her head tilted slightly to one side and she's blinking frequently. She keeps sticking her tongue out to wet her lips. She is dragging her fingers along the edge of her shirt, which is unbuttoned to the point so that the lace at the top of her bra is visible. A flash of anger plows through me.

I turn my attention to John's back and am able to immediately determine that he isn't interested. He's leaning away from her and is turned towards the bar, not towards her. I am relieved - still angry, but relieved.

John will talk to anyone; it's one of his more annoying character flaws. He should simply tell this woman that he is not interested and cease all communication. It's not as if it is difficult.

I reach them and she looks up at me curiously. I place my fingers on his spine, and drag them up to his neck. I see the barely noticeable shudder that this touch always brings. She doesn't see it because she is still looking at me, questioningly, threateningly.

He turns his head and glances over his shoulder up at me. I turn my attention from her to him. He is smiling the welcoming smile that greets me every day. It begins to fade in the millisecond it takes me to lean down and kiss him. It surprises him. The rules against public displays of affection are mine, not his.

It is a relatively quick kiss as he refuses to let me deepen it and I pull back. I try to offer him a seductive smile but am met with a slight frown. He turns his attention back to her. She's looking shocked and annoyed.

"Linda," he says, "This is Sherlock, my boyfriend. Sher…"

"Fiancé," I correct. And offer her my hand. She shakes it. John's neck muscles tighten under my fingers.

"I, um, I, didn't know that, um, you were… involved." It is obvious that she means, I didn't know that you were gay.

John just shrugs his shoulders good-naturedly. She straightens but doesn't look upset, just surprised. There will be no confrontation over the topic, she means no offense.

"I am," he offers her with a smile, "Now if you'll excuse us. I've got some news to share with my fiancé." He spits the last word out like venom, but she doesn't seem to notice. She just smiles and nods her head, turning back towards the bar.

John stands and pulls away from me in the same movement. He walks towards the back corner of the room and I follow him. His steps are short and forceful. He is annoyed, probably verging on angry.

It isn't my fault that the woman was trying to chat him up.

He turns abruptly when he reaches a space with less people. His eyes rage for a moment but calm before he speaks. He crosses his arm, effectively shutting me out.

"What was that?" he demands in whispered yell.

"Did you see the way that she was… she was, offering herself to you?" I hiss back.

He doesn't look surprised, I expect him to be surprised. "Did I appear to be accepting it?" he snaps. "No, we were actually having a very interesting conversation about some new cancer treatments. But you storm over and practically attack me to lay your claim. It was ridiculous, Sherlock."

"John, I…" I start, but he lets out a sigh and looks away from me.

He looks back and shakes his head. "Let's go home. I've been embarrassed enough here tonight."

He walks past me and quickly says his good-byes. He appears to be normal jovial John. Then he goes to the door and looks back at me. I understand that we are leaving. He steps out of the door and I move to follow, working my way through the crowd.

He is halfway down the block when I make it outside, and I have to jog to catch him.

"John." I reach for his hand and he accepts it. That is a positive sign.

John has a finite amount of anger and I can usually wait it out. When he's calmer he'll insist we discuss the problem which can be tedious, but at least he will no longer be upset.

"I could tell that you weren't interested in her," I say, trying to emphasise that I don't doubt him.

"But you checked me to make sure," he replies. Apparently, that wasn't the right thing to do.

We walk for a long time and he finally lets out a long sigh and shakes his head. It's the sign that his anger has run out. He brings our joined hands to his face and places a kiss into my knuckles. It's a frustrated gesture, but frustrated is better than angry.

"I'm never going to cheat on you Sherlock." he looks up at me. "I am about to vow to spend the rest of my life with you." The thought of that always makes me smile. "I'm going promise that, it is a promise I intend to keep."

I nod my head. I have every intention of doing the same thing. He smiles at me then, still annoyed, still frustrated, but not angry. I squeeze his fingers.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I will not be jealous anymore." At least I will not act on it. That did not go well.

He smiles, "I don't mind that you're jealous Sherlock. Just don't embarrass me anymore. I understand the subtlety isn't your strong suit, but if in doubt do nothing or ask to speak to me quietly." He squeezes my fingers, again, holding tightly. "Who knows, if you're jealous, and don't act like an ass, I might have to spend time reassuring you of my affections."

That is a very promising idea.

After

I make my way back to the pool side cabana where Sherlock has taken up residence. It made of three wooden walls and covered with a giant canvas allowing him "sit" in the sun without burning. It's a happy compromise. I'd certainly enjoyed the two days we've spent in the room, but we came to Corsica, so I'd like to at least see some body of water.

I climb in beside Sherlock and set the drinks onto the small wood table at the head of the cabana.

He reaches for his and takes a long sip and then settles back into the pillow. He crosses his fingers on his stomach, right above the swim trunks he bought for just this occasion. He'd packed them himself and I hadn't bothered to inspect them before we left. I'm glad because it was a very nice surprise when he walked out of the bathroom in them this morning. They are black shorts, and tight, very tight. There is a thin strip of purple trim on the top of the waist band and the drawstring just inside the waist band is also purple. They sit very low on his hips giving an incredible view of the muscular lines where thighs meets obliques and abs.

The whole getup is very nice, very nice indeed.

I sit up and look out over the pool watching the people get in and out and settling on the poolside chairs. The temperature is hot, but not uncomfortably so. There is a path down the rocks to the beach just past the pool area. The sound of the surf reaching us from there is very relaxing. There's even a nice breeze bringing the smell of saltwater up to us.

I lean my head back against the headboard and close my eyes.

"Does the cabana boy have a name?" Sherlock asks, "Or is the correct term 'waiter' or 'bartender'?"

I open my eyes but he hasn't moved. He had apparently been watching me while I got our drinks.

"His name is Paolo," I say and reach a hand over and set it on Sherlock's chest. He brings one of his up to cover mine. "He's 24 and from Florence."

"Mmmm," Sherlock says. "He seemed very fond of you, particularly of your ass as you walked around. He couldn't take his eyes off of it in fact."

"Really?" I'd noticed, of course. Paolo had been very forward.

"Liar." There is a small smile playing on his features. "You noticed and you enjoyed it." I can't deny that - Paolo is very, very attractive.

"I also noticed that he stopped when you held up your hand and showed him your ring." Sherlock traces his finger over the ring where it rests on his chest. I smile.

"Well, its purpose is to show that I'm spoken for, right?" Another small smile crosses his features, but he shakes his head.

"No, it represents that we are both spoken for by the other. One doesn't wear a wedding ring unless it is given to them by another." His finger continues to play over my hand, brushing across the ring. "Driving off men like Paolo is just an added bonus, one that I can honestly say I hadn't anticipated. I enjoyed it a great deal."

I laugh at that, pressing my fingers deeper into his skin. He presses up against my fingers.

"Surely you aren't jealous, Sherlock. I mean we are married now." He huffs.

"Our marriage does nothing to diminish your attractiveness, good doctor. In fact, the elevated levels of endorphins and pheromones from the increased sexual activity and happiness heighten your attractiveness. I am not surprised that Paolo is interested, but I have no intention of sharing you. So, yes, I am uncomfortable when you are admired by very attractive 24-year-old Italian men."

"Really?" I ask again. "As you said we are married now." I pull away from him and close the curtains on the cabana. There is a string that lets you secure the curtains from the inside.

"Brilliant design," he says as I fasten the ties. I look back at him and he's propped himself up on his elbows, the glint that I enjoy so much shining in his eyes.

"Well," as I turn back towards him and straddle his shins. "I'll just have to reassure you how much you mean to me now that you are my husband."

I move forward and he flattens as I settle on top of him. I place my lips against his and then move down his jaw to his ear. He groans as I reach the spot just below his ear. His skin tastes like sweat and sunscreen. I feel his hands trace up my back, one settles in my hair and the other moves down my arm. I pull back when he brings my hand up to his face and kisses my ring.

I watch him for a moment then move back to the spot on his neck. He lets my hand fall and wraps his arms around me again. I smile against his skin.