Jo's shoulder was completely better within two days, and by the time Sherlock got another case it had been a little over a week and the cuts on her face had even started to heal. They walked onto the crime scene side by side, as usual, but the stares that the officers on duty gave her made Jo want to shrink back into the shadows. She soldiered on, though, and didn't let her discomfort show. When Sherlock called her over she squatted down next to him - proud of herself for hiding her twinge at the motion - before examining the body and giving cause of death. When she stood up her wince was much more noticeable and Sergeant Donovan definitely took note of it. Jo stepped aside to allow Sherlock the space he need to make his spinning deductions and Sally sidled up next to her.

"You shouldn't let him do this to you?" Sally said, her voice full of pity.

Jo sighed. "Do what?"

"You shouldn't let him push you around like this," she answered, sounding as if she were talking to a dim child. "It's bad enough that you let him drag you around at all hours of the day and night, but now you're injured! You need to take time to heal!" Jo was trying to come up with a response that was suitably scathing when Sherlock swooped in.

"I can assure you that Dr. Watson is perfectly capable of making her opinions on any variety of subjects, including our cases and her health, completely known," he bit out angrily. "Furthermore, Jo is far too resilient to allow a few cuts and bruises to stop her." He whirled away before either woman had the chance to say anything. Sally was literally sputtering, but Jo just smiled after him, recognizing it for the compliment that it was.

Donovan turned to Jo, still glaring. "You can't let him talk about you like that."

"I can if I want to," she answered, grinning from ear to ear.

The sergeant sneered at her. "God, you're as crazy as he is."

"I should hope so," Jo responded happily. Sally huffed at her before turning and stalking away; Jo barely avoided laughing out loud. She had just schooled her expression back into something more appropriate when her phone rang.

"Dr. Watson here," She answered, not bothering to check the caller id.

A familiar laugh came across the line. "So it's Doctor Watson now, is it? And I did so like the sound of Captain. It's almost a shame."

"Almost?" She asked, turning and jogging away from the crime scene. "Good to know I haven't completely disappointed you with my life choices."

He sighed. "Jo, I don't think getting shot counts as a life choice. Although Doctor Watson does have a pretty nice ring to it."

"Thank you," she answered, leaning against the wall of a nearby alleyway. "So what's up? I mean, it's not that I don't love hearing from you, but why'd you call?"

"You called me first, love," he replied, his voice much more serious.

Jo blushed and barely caught herself before she cleared her throat nervously. "Oh, that. Don't worry about that; it was just me being sentimental."

"Josephine," he snapped, his voice taking on an authority that it rarely ever did. "Don't you dare lie to me; you know that I don't believe in that no bad news from the home front bullshit, so don't tell me that that was nothing. You sounded completely wrecked. What happened?"

She sighed and bit her lip. "It was McGovern. Apparently he decided that he'd waited long enough and that it was time to make good on all those promises he made way back when. I'm fine; I've just got a few cuts and bruises and he cracked a few ribs, but I broke his wrist and then Sherlock came and got me. I was mostly just shaken up; I'm sorry I worried you."

Liam sighed. "Jo, this is one of those things that you're supposed to worry me about. I'm sorry that I wasn't there."

"And what would you have done if you were?" She asked, her voice soft. "He snuck into my flat and drugged me while I was making ice cream. There's nothing anyone could have done to stop this."

"I would have ripped his throat out," Liam growled menacingly. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm himself down. "Actually, I'm surprised that your Sherlock didn't."

Jo chuckled. "I think he tried, but it was kind of hard with so many police officers around."

"Understandable I suppose." There was a commotion in the background and then he sighed. "I've got to go; you know how it is. Stay safe."

"You too," she answered. "I love you Lee."

"Love you too." There was a click and then the line went dead. She sighed and leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.

She was startled a few seconds later when she heard a deep voice coming from a few feet away. "Was that Liam?" Jo opened her eyes and saw Sherlock standing there looking slightly awkward with his hands in his pockets.

She nodded. "Yeah. He was worried about me so he called to make sure I was alright."

"And are you?" Sherlock asked, studiously avoiding eye contact.

She nodded again. "Yeah, I'm fine. Now, where to next? Did you solve the case already, or are we going to be spending our evening digging through bins?"

"It was dull and simplistic, of course I solved it," he answered without heat.

She sighed heavily as if disappointed. "Damn it! And I was so looking forward to routing through all the bins of London." She bumped against his shoulder, mostly out of habit rather than fear that he wouldn't get the joke.

He smirked. "I'm sure we could still do it, if you're that disappointed."

"That's alright," she answered happily. "I don't want to ruin the special effect for later."

He bumped their shoulders again. "That's probably wise. So, Chinese?"

"Chinese sounds good," she agreed, still smiling.

They were in the cab before Sherlock spoke again. "How is Liam?" He was looking at Jo with his this-is-what-normal-people-do-please-don't-tel-me-I've-fucked-this-up expression and she couldn't help but smile reassuringly at him.

"He's good," she answered, ignoring how tight her throat felt. "I mean as good as someone can be in a war zone when almost everyone they care about it half a world away, which for Liam is remarkably good." There was a light pause and then she smiled at him again. "And he likes you very much. He thinks that you're good for me."

"Really?" Sherlock asked, shock evident in his voice. "I was under the impression that most people think I'm a bad influence, and that I'm impeding your healing process."

Jo snorted. "Well Liam knows me better than most, and he seems to think that you are exactly what I need. Jackson likes you too, in case you wanted a second opinion."

"And what's your opinion?" He was proud of himself when his voice didn't betray his nervousness.

She rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smile. "What do you think? Do you honestly think that I would still be here if I didn't think it was good for me?" He smiled and didn't answer; it was unnecessary.