Sherlock came out of his room the next morning wrapped in his blue dressing gown. Mrs Hudson brought in the newspaper. "Good Morning Sherlock," she said putting the paper on the table, "and how are you feeling this morning?"

"Terrible," Sherlock said. "The muscles on my side feel like they are on fire. It took three pain killers just so that I felt good enough to sit up this morning."

"Oh Sherlock, do you think that you might need to go back to the hospital?"

"I've had quite enough of hospitals, Mrs Hudson."

"I know what you mean," she said. "They never were able to give me the drugs I needed for my hip. If you want, I can let you have one of my herbal soothers."

"I'd appreciate that, Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said opening the paper to the crime report.

There was a footstep on the stairs. Mrs Hudson looked up and saw Mary Watson walk by carrying a bucket full of toiletries and wearing fluffy bunny slippers and a flower-print bath robe. She entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Mrs Hudson stared, "Sherlock? Was that Mrs Watson?"

"Yes. She'll be staying over for a few days," Sherlock said turning the page.

"Is John here too?"

"No. John's away somewhere else."

Mrs Hudson frowned, "I don't think that I approve of this situation."

Sherlock folded down the top of the newspaper and looked at her. "What don't you approve of, Mrs Hudson?"

"You can't just stay alone in an apartment with a married woman. It's not decent."

"But John was married and he stayed over. What's the problem?"

"It's not the same. Well, you know your business, Sherlock, but I'd be careful if I were you." Mrs Hudson shook her head and walked down the stairs.

Mary came out of the bathroom fully dressed. She placed her bucket on a chair and walked over to the refrigerator. Then she pulled out some eggs and began to cook them.

Sherlock put down one section of the paper and picked up another. "There's some instant coffee in the cabinet if you want it," he said. Mary opened the cabinet and stared at the coffee container, then she closed the cabinet, and went back to cooking her eggs.

"Would you like some eggs?" she asked.

"No thank you."

Mary shrugged as she spooned the eggs onto her plate. There was a ring and Sherlock whipped out his phone, "It's me," he said, "What do you want, Lestrade? I can't, I'm on a case now. Of course not, why would I lie about a case? Fine." He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket.

"What did Greg say?" Mary asked shaking pepper on her eggs.

"Greg... said that he'll be right over."

Mary ate her eggs in silence, then she took her plate to the sink and washed it while Sherlock examined her with a critical eye. He glanced at the cabinet and then back at Mary who was wiping her hands on the towel. He furrowed his brow. "Your collar is up," he said.

Mary faced him. Her expression strangely neutral and unfocused. "Thank you," she said, and she walked over to the mirror to adjust her collar and cuffs before going back up the stairs to John's room.

Sherlock rose from his chair and held his hand to his side. The pain had returned. He limped over to the mantle, and took another pair of pain pills before walking into his room. Ten minutes later, he was back in front of the fireplace pacing as he tried to guess where John would hide.

There was a ring at the door. and Mary rushed down the stairs.

Sherlock walked over to the computer to check John's blog. There were no updates. "It's not as if there have been any new cases since the accident." Sherlock thought, "I have been remarkably unproductive of late. Even so, I'm lost without my blogger."

He looked up as Mary Watson entered the room carrying a shoe box. "What's wrong with Mrs Hudson?" Mary asked, "She gave me the strangest look."

"Nothing important. So, what's in the box?" Sherlock asked.

"It's a present for you," Mary answered smiling.

Sherlock took the box carefully as if it held a bomb. He opened it. "Ah, a pair of women's shoes," he said taking the black pumps out of the box. "Why?"

"You said that had difficulty finding woman's shoes in your size, so I bought you a pair. Notice the heel. It's wider. Now try them on."

"You want me to try them on now?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, while there is still time to return them."

Sherlock turned sideways in his chair and started to bend over to untie his shoes when Mary put out a hand. "Allow me," she said, "I take care of preschoolers. I'm used to tying and untying shoes." Mary knelt down on her knees and untied Sherlock's shoes. He lifted his feet out, and Mary placed the black pumps onto them.

"Now, stand up and tell me how it feels?"

Sherlock stood in the high-heeled pumps bending over to get a look at them. He lost his balance and fell forward. Mary reached up to steady his hips, and he grabbed at her head and shoulders until he regained his balance. He glanced down at Mary. She looked up at him, and then they both turned to the door at the sound of a gasp. Mrs Hudson stood watching them, her hand covering her mouth before she turned and rushed down the stairs.

"What was that about?" Mary asked.

"I believe that Mrs Hudson might have mishapprehended our actions," Sherlock said before sitting down and removing the shoes. He placed his own back on, as Mary packed the pumps in the shoe box.

There was a knock on the door frame and Lestrade stretched his head around the corner. "Is everything alright? Mrs Hudson said that I had better give you warning before I came in."

Sherlock finished tying his shoes and then stood. "So what is it?"

"Double murder," Lestrade said, "Will you come?"

"No, I said that I was busy. I am working on a case for Mrs Watson."

"Hello Mary," Lestrade said. "Where's John?"

"John's not here," Sherlock said. "That is what I am working on."

"John's gone? Has he been hurt? Should I put out a missing person's report?"

"No. Nothing like that, he's just gone on a trip," Mary said.

"Where?" Lestrade asked.

"We are in the process of discovering that," Sherlock replied.

"He didn't tell you where he was going?"

"No," Mary said curtly.

"Did he have any appointments planned? Where is he supposed to be now?" Lestrade asked

"Well, he was invited to speak at a medical conference but we canceled that weeks back. I called yesterday to see if he had gone anyway, but he wasn't there."

"No," Sherlock said pressing his palms together. "He wouldn't go anywhere that he would expect us to look for him. John's too smart for that."

"Are you saying that he doesn't want to be found? What reason would he have to leave both of you? Are you sure that he isn't just out Christmas shopping?"

"I think not," Sherlock said, "But let's check his credit records to be sure."

Sherlock typed rapidly. Mary looked over his shoulder. "That's my bank account! How did you get the password?"

"Neither you nor John are very imaginative when it comes to passwords. Honestly, didn't anyone ever tell you never to use a date?"

Sherlock glanced at the screen and then he tossed his head in frustration, "Well, he is wisely avoiding using his credit cards. He must have decided, correctly, that they are too traceable. There was, however, a sizable withdrawal from his savings account. Did you know about this Mrs Watson?"

Mary peered at the screen, "That's John's mad money. He always said that he was saving for a trip to Barbados."

"Do you think that's where he's gone?" Lestrade asked?

"Without his passport? Hardly," Sherlock scoffed. "He can't have gone too far. If only we could localize...Ah! his phone. Why didn't I think of it beforehand?" Sherlock typed and a map image popped up on the screen. "There's John. He's in London. Mary and I will just pop over and get him."

Mary looked over Sherlock's shoulder at the screen. "He's near our flat," Mary said, "But why does his location keep changing? Is he looking for something?"

"I don't know, but we best go quickly." Sherlock rose to his feet, "Come along, Mrs Watson."

"But Sherlock," Lestrade said.

"I told you, I'm busy now, solve it yourself." Sherlock said as he donned his gloves and his coat. "Mrs Watson, bring my pain medicine will you, it's on the mantle."

Mary walked over and lifted the bottle. "But where is the rest of it? It was full when you left our flat." Sherlock marched down the stairs, and Mary followed.

A taxi ride and a quick look at the laptop showed that John had returned to their flat. Mary rushed up the steps. She unlocked the door, picking up a package propped against the door frame as she entered. It was dark. Mary walked into the kitchen and turned on the light, placing the package on the table before walking through all the rooms. "John!" she called as she ran into the bedroom without finding him.

Sherlock put one hand against the table to steady himself. The climb had winded him. "It says that he's here," Sherlock said looking at the map on his phone. He dialed John's number, and the package on the table rang. Sherlock tore it open to reveal John's phone.

"He mailed it home?" Mary said watching as Sherlock picked it up, his fingers flying across the keys as he looked at the messages.

"The last message he sent to himself. "Gone on trip. Don't follow. Love You. John."

Mary crossed her arms and rocked worriedly, but Sherlock smiled a fierce smile. "Good one John," he said before falling down into the chair.

"You haven't recovered yet," Mary said. "You just sit there. Let me get you some tea."

"I'll be fine. Let's keep looking."

"No, you will sit there while I brew the tea, and then I will take you back to Baker street and put you to bed. I was wrong to force you to move about so soon."

"But I can find him."

"I'll start the tea," Mary said daring him to oppose her.

"You know Mary Watson, you are almost as stubborn as John is," Sherlock said.

"Thank you," she replied. "I take that as a compliment."

Sherlock's eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door. He was startled to find that he had been sleeping and everything was in the wrong place. Then he realized that he was back in Mary's flat. She came in with a package of pills and some groceries. "I went to the hospital and got your medicine, " she said. "They had stopped your prescription because of the reaction. That's why you haven't been recovering as quickly, but you'll feel better once you've had some. Here's your medicine, I'll get you some water." Mary put the bottle on the table and walked into the kitchen.

Sherlock picked up the medicine bottle and read it. "But this is the same medicine as last time. The medicine that made it so that I could not think."

Mary walked back in with the water glass. "Yeah, I noticed that. I asked about it, but they said not to worry. It was the interaction of two medicines that caused the problem. They stopped the other medicine, so this one should be fine."

"I'm not taking it."

"You need to take it if you want to get better."

"Find something else, I won't take that."

Mary opened the bottle and poured two pills into the cap. "It's what they prescribed. Open up."

Sherlock turned his mouth away. "Just give me more of the pain medicine. I'll be fine."

"You are taking this pill, or we will go to the hospital and I'll have them force it down your throat."

Sherlock's shoulders sagged. He opened his mouth and Mary dropped the pills onto his tongue. She handed him the glass and he drank. "There, very good," she said smiling as she took the glass and walked back into the kitchen. Sherlock watched to see that she was gone before removing the pills from under his tongue and hiding them under the sofa pillow.

Sherlock closed his eyes and listened as Mary walked past him. She returned with a pillow and a duvet. She bent down on her knees lifting Sherlock's head and placing the pillow under it, then she covered him with the duvet. "You need your rest," she said.

Sherlock breathed in deeply. The pillow smelled of John. She must have take it off of her own bed. He closed his eyes imagining what John looked like when he slept, only to open his eyes a moment later when he noticed that Mary had not yet gone. He turned to face her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have made you leave before you were well, but I'll take care of you now until you are well enough to be on your own again."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I understood why you wanted me to leave. What I don't understand is why you are helping me now. We are rivals after all."

"Of course, I'll help you. I want you to get well. You are ...very important to me."

Sherlock frowned. "Important? Why am I important to you?"

"Because you're important to John, silly. Now get some sleep. We have more searching to do tomorrow." Mary patted his shoulder and then walked off leaving Sherlock wondering until he finally drifted off to sleep. He woke with a start in the middle of the night, a sharp pain in his chest.

Sherlock sat up and walked to the table. His bottle of pain pills was almost empty. He knew before opening it that it wouldn't be enough. His mind had cleared after he had stopped taking the old medicine, but the pain was almost as bad at preventing his mind from working properly. On the other hand, Sherlock knew how to deal with pain.

He walked over to the closet and searched until he found John's medical kit. He carried it back to the couch and opened it searching the contents until he found the bottle that he was looking for. John had been an army doctor. He never felt safe unless he was prepared for all emergencies. Sherlock removed a needle from the container and placed it on the end of a syringe. A little morphine was all that he needed to get by.