John called Mary that evening. He could barely wait to talk to her again. He knew that she had specified that he should text, but he was still attached to the old fashioned charm that came with a phone call. Unfortunately, his efforts were met with no answer, just a cheery voicemail. "Hi, this is Mary, you know what to do!"

He nearly hung up right then.

"Mary, it's John. From last night. Er...you probably knew that. Er. Did you want to...er...go out sometime? Next time you're in town? And you have my clothes. Not that it matters. But you do have them. Dinner. Would you like to get dinner sometime? Give me a ring back. Okay? Okay." He hung up. "Shit." He fought the urge to throw his phone against the wall. Jesus. He used to be Three Continents Watson, and now he struggled to call a girl who has already slept with him. He was losing his touch, he thought with a sigh.

John hadn't read her file. It stared at him from his dining table, and several times he had to fight the temptation to pick it up and read it. He had not given in, but couldn't bring himself to throw it away. After all, Mary had quite a lot of information on him, through his blog. It only seemed fair to level the playing field. More than anything, he wanted to know what was so important about her that Mycroft felt the need to collect a file on her. What would it have said? What would his own file say? He made a mental note to ask the next time they ran into each other, or rather the next time Mycroft decided he needed kidnapping. Although, he thought, Mycroft may have just been trying to butt into his private matters. He was still scandalized at the thought that his late night activities had been caught on camera.

Before John knew it, more than a week had slipped by. Christmas had not been very memorable. Mrs Hudson had stopped by Christmas morning on the way to her sister's in Kent with a new jumper for him that she had knit herself, as well as a few boxes of sweets. Content spending the day inside, he lounged about watching telly, falling asleep on the sofa. He had been awakened by a drunken phone call from his sister at two in the morning on Boxing Day, but other than that, not eventful in the slightest.

The day after Boxing Day, John arrived to work to learn that one of the general surgeons had resigned in light of a New Year's resolution to travel the world, leaving an enormous gap in coverage in the A&E. John immediately volunteered to fill the post. "If it's too much, we can hire someone else on," his boss had said, but John felt newly invigorated, taking on more and more at the hospital. It was nice to not be held back again.

Greg invited him out for a pint on the thirtieth, despite the fact that it was the middle of the week. John didn't mind. He'd been given a few days off New Years, probably due to Mycroft's interfering, but he couldn't confirm. As he walked into the pub, Greg was already seated at the bar, well into his first drink. "John! No cane I see."

"Yeah, leg's not as stiff."

"You walk like a man who got a leg over. Good on you." He waggled his eyebrows.

John blushed furiously. He turned to the barkeeper. "Pint, please. Ta."

"Jokes aside mate, how are things with Mary, actually? Molly said you hit it off real well."

"I haven't seen her since after the party, actually." Greg choked on his drink.

"Really? That surprises me." He replied, coughing.

"Yeah, I figured she'd be busy getting ready to get back to school after the holiday, and London is a ways away, I may have been getting my hopes up a little too high. Distance and all that." John thought about Mary, leaning close to him in the cab, smelling of warm honey. One night won't be nearly enough. So much for that.

"What to do you mean a ways away? She's kipping at Molly's."

"What?"

"I didn't realize you didn't know. She got sacked from the school right before the holiday."

"Cor, I had no idea." I bet it was in the damn file, he thought. Although his own CV told a similarly fragmented story. "Sacked?"

"Not sacked, no that was the wrong way to put it. They had told her that she could take on a permanent position in the New Year. She was only on a half year contract, and they chose not to extend. Are you sure she didn't mention it?" John shook his head. "Well it was sudden and I 'spose it doesn't make for the best pillow talk," Greg said with half a smirk.

"It explains why she didn't return my call. I was beginning to think it was something I did."

"Or didn't do," said Greg, chuckling now.

"I'll have you know—"

"Have me know what now?"

"Not a bloody thing." John stopped himself.

"That's what I thought." Greg eyed John's still full glass. "Drink up, we're celebrating tonight, it's on me."

"Celebrating what?"

"My mate just got laid. That's enough cause for celebration."

"No seriously Greg. What are we celebrating?"

Greg suddenly looked incredibly serious. "It's New Year tomorrow." He paused. "And I'm going to ask Molly to marry me." He pulled a velvet box out of his pocket, showing John the glinting three-stone diamond ring.

John froze for a long moment before he burst to life, clapping Greg on the back. "Congrats! Moving things along, aren't you? Is she pregnant?" He was only half joking.

Greg legitimately blushed. "No! We've been dancing around this relationship since last Christmas…at the party. It feels like we've been together for a decade. But you know, with Jenny and the kids...it's been complicated at best. If she says yes, we'll do it in the summer, so everything with Jennifer will have been finalised for a couple months." Greg looked serious. "If I'd met her first, I'd never have gotten divorced."

"If you'd met her first, she'd still be underage." John said with a smirk.

"Shut up. She's not that much younger."

"Must be the grey hair then." John said with a smirk.

Greg smacked him. "We shouldn't really celebrate until she says yes."

"We can celebrate twice." John grinned, legitimately happy for the man. At the same time, looking down at his lager, he felt a pang of sadness. Life moves on around you, even when it feels like you're standing still. He shook it off, plastering a smile back on. "Two more pints, please!" He called to the bartender. He turned to Greg. "Are the kids going to take it well?"

"Yeah. Amanda is smitten with Molly. Molls treats her like a sister than a parent, and I think that's what she needs. Joe doesn't get all the girly stuff, but he's a six year old boy. I think he knows that I'm happy, and that this is important to me. He'll appreciate having a stepmum one day. If it all works out, I'd like them to come live with us at least some of the time."

"That's amazing, Greg. I'm happy for you." He realized that he meant it.

"Why aren't you married?" Greg asked abruptly.

"The usually reasons. Med school was too busy for anything that lasted longer than a couple of nights. The army was the same way. Then I had the injury, then living with Sherlock."

"You'll be next. After me and Molls it'll be you."

"I'm getting a little old myself for the first-time marriage."

"You're not forty. And Mary will want kids. All that time spent at with the little ones. It puts ideas in your head. Shame she's out of a job."

"Does that happen often?"

"The way Molly said it, yeah. She's had a rough go of it. She's got good intentions though." Greg looked at his watch. "Hey, want to head back to mine? We can still catch the match?"

"That's great."

Greg had a nice three bedroom place within walking distance of the pub. As he opened the door, he waggled his eyebrows at John.

"Back already?" called Molly.

"You can't watch the match yet. Glee's still on!" came Mary's voice.

"Alright. John's here too."

In the den, Molly was still dressed from a day at work. Mary was much more relaxed, wearing his sweatpants, John noticed.

Mary looked at him wide-eyed, but Molly had a polite smile plastered across her face.

"Molly, did you want to take a walk? It's not too bloody cold and it's clear."

Her eyes darted between Greg and John and Mary. "Sure. Be back in a bit!"

"Oh, no, you guys stay too." John said, but Greg had already left. He sat down awkwardly on the couch next to her. "So...er...those are mine."

"They're quite comfy."

Mary quietly sat on the sofa next to him, perched awkwardly.

Several long moments passed.

John cleared his throat. "I'd like to see you again." Mary looked at him but didn't respond. "I, er. You said one night wasn't enough, and I, er, I want that to be true."

"I've been sacked. I don't have a job. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't."

"I know." He paused. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Is that going to be a problem?"

John's lips quirked into a smile. "I don't think it will."

"Are you sure?"

"Something else will turn up. Something will happen."

"Nothing ever happens to me." John looked at her, dumfounded at her choice of words.

"Maybe something will."

"What happens now, John?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Well you were watching telly. I didn't really want to interrupt that."

"Do you like Glee?"

"I've never watched it."

"I've got series one on DVD?"

"Sounds brilliant."

John awoke slowly to light streaming in through the windows. Unsure of where he was and cotton-mouthed, he sat up blearily. The last thing he remembered was Mary insisting that one more episode wouldn't hurt. Mary was nowhere to be found, but someone had draped a blanket over him in the night. Pans clanging in the kitchen aggravated the headache he could already feel forming. Molly poked her head out, "John, do you want eggs?"

"Please." He mumbled. "Where's Mary?

"In the shower."

"Where's Greg?"

"He went to pick up some sugar. He should return any moment."

"I'm sorry that I kipped on your sofa. I didn't intend to."

"I'm sorry that it wasn't more comfortable. Although I've slept over at the mortuary before, late nights working on a deadline with Sherlock, and that was certainly worse."

"Er...yeah," John replied, his heart sinking at hearing his name.

"Sorry. That was...sorry. I mean-"

"No, Molly it's fine. And thank you. For Mary. We wouldn't have met if not for you."

"It's nothing." Molly gave him a long look, then wrapped her arms around him in a hug that seemed to last just a moment too long. John didn't hug back.

"Am I interrupting?" Greg had returned with a bag of groceries. Molly let go of John abruptly.

"Not at all!" she took the bag from Greg.

"John, do you mind having a word?" John shrugged in reply, but followed Greg out of the kitchen. "Do you mind taking Mary out?"

"I was going to ask her for dinner tonight, whenever she comes downstairs."

"I mean now. So Molly and I can talk."

"What? Oh. Oh. Yeah. As soon as Mary's down I'll take her out to a cafe or something."

"Thanks mate. I'm going to put the ring in her scrambled eggs. Romantic, yeah?"

"Yeah...that's...fine."

"What's fine?" Both men turned suddenly. They hadn't heard Mary come downstairs.

"I was just asking Greg if it was fine to take you out for breakfast instead of sticking around here. He said he'd tell Molly, if that's alright with you." John lied smoothly.

"That sounds great. I'll get my coat."

Breakfast ended up being slightly thick cups of coffee from a spot on the corner run by the oldest man John had ever seen.

"I don't think we should have left them alone," Mary remarked.

"Why do you say that?"

"I think Greg is going to break up with Molly. He really wanted us to leave."

"I don't think so. He cares about her."

"I hope so."

They were sipping their coffee quietly when John's mobile lit up with an incoming text.

From: Greg Lestrade 10:27

She said no.

John couldn't suppress his gasp. "Hm?" asked Mary, looking at him questioningly.

"Just a mo'."

To: Greg Lestrade 10:28

I'll keep Mary out of the house for the day.

From: Greg Lestrade 10:29

Thanks.

"Molly and Greg need some time. Was there anything you wanted to do today?"

"Not really, no."

John smiled broadly. "Perfect."

"Why?"

"Because now I can take you on a proper date."

"I don't know, John."

"At the very least, it will take your mind off of things."

He offered his hand. She took it, running a thumb over his knuckles, staring at their entwined fingers.

"Sure."