About a month had passed since Sherlock's death and Poor Watson: absolutely devastated, was sitting in the waiting room of his therapists office. After what seemed like an eternity to the dr who was nervously tapping his feet, the woman who had the session prior to his came out. For some strange reason both caught eye contact and Watson… He felt something something special. Standing up he tripped over his shoelaces awestruck by this drop dead gorgeous woman. Maybe there was hope after all.

"Are you ok?" She asked looking down at him before putting her hand out to help him up. In doing so she planted a slip of paper with her number into his right palm.

"Y...yes I'm good."

"Well hello then good. I'm Mary." She winked at him and gave a cheeky smile before heading off back home.

This was all so strange, Not right at all. Not in the slightest. John thought to himself while walking down the never ending corridor to meet with his therapist after being diagnosed with PTSD after Sherlock's rather dramatic and seemingly staged suicide.

Watson sighed, after exiting the therapist he still wondered. Did Sherlock hate Watson so much that he would cook for him and be nice to him then force the Dr to watch him die? Did sherlock REALLY think suicide was a game? Despite the therapy sessions it was clear Watson was very confused and damaged by all of this. He needed a distraction, that's what his therapist said and what better distraction than calling Mary. The drop dead gorgeous woman from earlier.

"Tonight. 7pm. L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon. Ok. See you there." This was the main part of their call. After saying goodbye Watson put the phone down and smiled to himself. He was very pleased he had managed to get a date with Mary. At first glance she was flawless by design.

"Well Hello there handsome man. Watson isn't it? Dr John Watson." Mary asked although she already knew his name.

"Yes my lady. Indeed I am Dr John Watson, Mary Morstan."

"Well shall we go to our table?" Mary asked and took his hand as they walked, directed by their water to their table on a balcony by a big open window with fairy lights hanging, giving the room a romantic and magical feel. What made it special was that it was only them and one other couple on the balcony. The two couples seemed miles apart. Not like one of those busy, bustling, loud restaurants where you can hardly be heard.

The two chatted about the most strange of things, looking at the menu they found it funny that they both ordered exactly the same starter and main. To John it seemed they were perfect for eachother. True love. He thought he had finally found the one.

Mary laughed then took a sip of her drink. Suddenly her phone made that signature sound. The sound she had set for a certain being. It was "popcorn" the muse version of course. This special someone was most suited to that particular version. "Sorry I have to take this." Mary told Dr Watson and went into the loo's to answer the call.

"Mary. Darling. My beautiful girl. Hows the plan? Working?" The thought to be desesced man asked her.

"Yes my handsome detective. Yes. All's going very well."She replied then quickly said her goodbyes before rushing back to the plan. "Work sorry. It was urgent" Mary said her apologies hurriedly before sitting down.

"What do you do?" Watson asked her realising she knew his job but he didn't know hers.

"Events organiser." Mary replied, naming the first thing she thought of that could involve random

calls in the middle of a date. Besides in a way she was organising. And she was planning. The phone call was also from a supposed superior. So she could say it was work calling because as her beloved called it. "Looking after my dear Dr Watson" was her job.