Jo woke up with a heavy weight on her chest. She panicked for a moment and prepared to launch her own counterattack before she realized that it was just Sherlock and was able to calm herself down. She had always suspected that Sherlock was the snuggling type, and while it was nice to have her suspicions confirmed, she couldn't help but feel a bit smothered. She lay there for a few more minutes with Sherlock's arms tightly around her waist and his face pressed against her neck, but she soon started to feel fidgety and knew that it was time to get up. She carefully untangled herself from the bed and slipped her pillow into Sherlock's grasping arms. He hugged it tightly and she couldn't help but smile fondly at the sight.
She was just starting a pot of coffee when Sophie came in at sat down heavily at the table. She was still in her pajamas, her hair was mussed, and she had the miserable look of someone who didn't understand why she was conscious. Jo offered her a quiet good morning; she received a friendly-ish grunt in return. Jo smiled and turned to the fridge to get out the cooking supplies. Sophie's eyes followed her movements, but neither of them said anything. Finally, the coffee maker beeped and Jo turned around.
She smiled cheerfully at her guest. "Would you like a cup of coffee, or some juice? I suppose I could boil some water for tea if you want that."
"Coffee please," Sophie answered levelly. Jo recognized it for the challenge that it was and got down two mugs without comment. She set the full mug on the table along with the creamer from the fridge and sugar before turning back to her cutting board and her own coffee. She could feel the teenager's eyes sharpening to something more analytical; the feeling of being scrutinized was familiar, and Jo knew that such a visual inspection wasn't surprising coming from someone who had grown up with Sherlock. She also wasn't surprised when Sophie spoke up a few moments later.
"Those are Sherlock's clothes."
Jo nodded, not bothering to turn around. "Yes, they are."
"And he didn't sleep on the couch last night," she continued, delivering the statement without emotion.
"No, he didn't," she agreed, matching Sophie's tone.
Sophie sighed. "You can tell me if you two are sleeping together; I won't tell anyone - not even my Da."
"Sherlock and I aren't sleeping with each other," she replied, finally turning around. "Last night we shared a bed out of convenience. Sherlock isn't exactly pleasant in the morning, and I didn't quite feel up to dealing with him after a night on the couch."
She nodded slowly. "That makes sense, I suppose. Although you two do seem really close; Sherlock doesn't really let people close.
Jo shrugged. "Yeah, well, neither do I. We've both made exceptions." She turned back around to her cooking and Sophie didn't say anything else.
A few minutes later Sherlock came stumbling into the kitchen and flopped on one of the rickety chairs. He dropped his head to the tabletop with a dull thud and mumbled something intelligible. His hair was beyond messy and his ratty old t-shirt was rumbled and askew. Jo bit back a chuckle as she placed a mug of coffee in front of him. She knew why he didn't sleep on cases; the man could go strong for two days without sleep, three counting a few cat naps in cabs, but it took him almost an hour to get anywhere even approaching his usual brilliance after a full night's sleep. The doctor would never admit it out loud, but she found that particular trait rather endearing.
"You're cooking," Sherlock slurred a few minutes later, finally having deemed it appropriate to sit up in his chair.
Jo smirked at him over her shoulder. "What a stunning observation Mr. Holmes. You should be a detective." Sophie snorted but Sherlock just glared.
"You hardly ever cook breakfast," he answered, his voice gaining some clarity. "Why are you doing it now?"
She shrugged. "You're not the only one who gets bored. And besides, you told me yourself that my subconscious urge to take care of you more near the full moon manifests itself in my cooking more often." Sherlock had always hated it when Jo used his own words against him and a low growl escaped his throat. Jo couldn't help but chuckle; the man growled so often that they had ceased to be even slightly menacing after the first week.
The three of them ate breakfast, and Sophie told them about a science project she was working on for school. Afterwards, there was a scramble for the shower, which Sophie won and Jo lost. Jo ended up with a cold shower, which she really didn't mind except for the fact that it made her shoulder tight. They took a cab to Lestrade's house, which was larger than Jo had expected on a cop's salary.
"It was Greg's first wife's," Sherlock whispered in her ear. "Old family home." Jo nodded but didn't say anything.
They walked into the house without knocking and Sophie flitted off to put her backpack in her room and find her dad. Jo stayed close to Sherlock, mostly out of nervousness. It had been a long time since she had been at anything even close to a family gathering, and the fact that she didn't really know any of the family at this gathering didn't make it any less awkward. They were still in the front hall when a group of four nine year olds came thundering past. One of them, a small red headed boy with freckles broke from the pack and came barreling into Sherlock's legs; Sherlock responded by bending over so he could wrap his arms around the boy and planted a kiss on the top of his head.
"Happy birthday James." He said happily. "Are you having a good time?"
The boy nodded, stepping back so that he could show off his pirate costume, which came complete with a plastic sword and eye patch. "Yes! I'm a Pirate Captain!"
Sherlock grinned at him. "I can see that, and a fine pirate at that. Now, James, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Dr. Jo Watson."
"Hello Dr. Watson," James said, solemnly holding out his hand for her to shake.
Jo smiled at him as she shook his hand. "Hello Captain Lestrade; it's nice to meet you. But you can call me Jo. A pirate captain such as yourself deserves the right to use first names, don't you think."
He nodded enthusiastically, giggling. "You can call me James; I promise won't make you walk the plank. I'm going to go play now."
"Alright, have fun," Jo answered, saluting him with a look of utter seriousness. James scampered off with another grin.
Sherlock nodded towards the rest of the house. "Shall we? The front hall isn't exactly where all the excitement is."
"Sure," she agreed, ignoring how nervous she felt as they walked deeper into the house. Sherlock led her into the kitchen where he deposited the gifts on the kitchen table and found Lestrade.
Greg smiled at them, looking a bit frazzled. "I can offer you a Coke; sorry we don't have anything stronger."
"A Coke would be great," Jo answered with a smile. "I prefer to be stone cold sober when dealing with children. And Sherlock, for that matter."
He laughed and pulled cans out of the fridge for them. "I find that a shot of whiskey helps a lot with this one, actually." Sherlock glared at him, but there wasn't much heat in it and he accepted the offered drink.
"Where's Luke?" Sherlock asked, looking around.
Lestrade sighed. "His room; where else?" Sherlock nodded before whisking himself off upstairs. Jo looked at Greg questioningly and he clarified. "Luke is my youngest. He's five and painfully shy; Sherlock's one of the only people who can get him to come out of his shell." Jo hummed but before she could say anything Sherlock came back, a small dark haired boy in his arms. The boy had his face hidden in Sherlock's neck and Sherlock was murmuring something into his ear.
He turned to Jo and raised his voice a bit. "Luke, this is my friend Dr. Jo Watson. She's really nice, I promise. Can you say hello to her?" Luke shook his head and Sherlock continued patiently. "Come on Luke. I know that you'll like her. I wouldn't introduce you to someone who won't get along with you. Luke, think about it; how many people in your whole life have I asked you to meet?" There was a small pause where Luke mumbled an answer and then Sherlock nodded. "Exactly. So trust me on this, please. Jo is very nice and I know you two will be great friends. So can you please say hello." Luke slowly turned his head away from Sherlock, his big blue eyes blinking at Jo.
"Hello," he whispered, his cheeks red and blotchy.
"Hello," Jo answered with a smile that she hoped looked friendly instead of forced. "How are you today?"
The boy shrugged. "There are a lot of strangers here. They make me nervous."
"I know," she said, nodding. "Strangers make me nervous too."
Luke perked up a bit. "Really?"
Jo nodded again. "Yeah. Sometimes they make my skin crawl - always have. But the best people I've ever met have been strangers once, so they can't all be bad." Luke frowned as he nodded reluctantly. He continued to study the doctor but neither of them said anything else.
A few moments later Lestrade cleared his throat. "Hey I'm sorry about Sophie. She doesn't normally run off without telling anyone; I have no idea what could have gotten into her." Sherlock raised one eyebrow - his expression clearly said that he knew exactly what had gotten into her and Greg did too - but he didn't say anything.
"It's not a problem," Jo answered lightly. "It was actually kind of nice having her around." She felt Sherlock's gaze on her, obviously searching for any signs of deception. When he didn't find any he smiled at her and Jo easily returned it with a smile of her own.
Moments later a tall woman came walking briskly in, mumbling disparaging remarks about traffic and carrying far too many boxes of pizza in her arms. She was well dressed, her blonde hair immaculately styled even if the color was obviously out of a bottle. Her jewelry was tasteful and carefully chosen, but even Jo could see that the woman had forgotten to move her wedding ring back to the correct finger. She glared at Sherlock as she set down the boxes, but smiled as she kissed Lestrade on the cheek. Jo felt Sherlock stiffen beside her, but when she looked questioningly up at him he shook his head minutely.
Greg took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Jo Watson, I'd like you to meet my wife, Alice."
"It's nice to meet you," Jo said cheerfully, extending her hand for the other woman to shake.
Alice's eyes flitted from Jo to Sherlock and back again before gingerly taking the doctor's proffered hand. "A pleasure." Her lips curled up in distaste and she wiped her hand on her trousers as soon as their hands disconnected. Jo hadn't felt so put down in years - not even Mycroft had succeeded in doing that - and she briefly wondered how such a normal woman had succeeded with two words and a handshake; it was confusing and more than a little disconcerting. Sherlock bumped against her shoulder and the look of camaraderie that he sent her let her know that he felt the same way.
The moment quickly passed and the birthday party came trampling into the kitchen for food. Sherlock got Luke a plate before setting him back on his feet and sending him scampering for the table. The adults (and Sophie) stayed in the kitchen to eat, Sherlock picking off of Jo's plate, which earned a raised eyebrow from both Greg and Alice (Sophie had gotten used to it during her stay). Cake was had and then presents were opened. Before long Sherlock and Jo were the only guests left in the house. Luke had retreated to his room; Alice had taken her laptop upstairs; James had taken his plunder up to his room; Sherlock and Sophie were deep in conversation about how to best determine the rate of decay caused by different acids, so Jo was helping Greg clean up.
"So, I know that pirate themed parties probably aren't your idea of a good Saturday morning," Greg said with a wry smile. "But thanks for coming. It means a lot to Sherlock."
She shrugged. "It was fun. You have great kids; Sherlock turned out alright too."
"Yeah, I suppose he did," he answered, cracking a smile. "But I've never seen him quite so happy as he is with you. So thanks for that; even if you did let him buy my kid a chemistry set." Jo felt her cheeks color and coughed to hide the fact that she didn't know what to say. She put the trash bag she was holding down so that she massage her wrist, rolling her shoulder as well.
"Watson!" Sherlock barked from the kitchen. He didn't wait for a response before walking briskly towards her.
Jo turned to face him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Holmes!" He reached out and took hold of her arm with surprising gentleness.
"You're hurt," he said, frowning as he examined her wrist. "This is why you haven't written up the last case yet. How did I miss this?"
She shrugged, making no attempt to take her arm back. "It's no big deal. It'll be fine in a couple of days. Trust me, I'm a doctor."
"Your shoulder is bothering you as well," he continued, releasing her arm.
She nodded, smiling a bit. "Yeah, cold showers in the morning will do that. Just you wait, before long I'll be one of those crazy old vets who can tell the weather by her shoulder."
"I'll look forward to it," he replied, smiling at her in a way that Jo couldn't quite decipher.
Jo took a step back and checked her watch. "I picked up an extra shift tonight - to make up for the time I'm taking off next month. I'd like to go home and change first, so we should probably leave pretty soon."
"Alright," Sherlock agreed. "But we should say goodbye first." She agreed and let him lead the way upstairs.
James was busy sorting through all of his gifts, but he did give each of them a hug and was obviously excited by Sherlock's promise to come back and teach him proper chemistry. Sophie was doing her homework - Jo offered to help her with the Shakespeare she was currently struggling through if she brought it by the flat sometime. Luke was in his room, hunched over his desk. Jo expected to be ignored, so she hung back while Sherlock went to say goodbye. To her surprise, however, Luke jumped up and ran over to her, shoving a piece of paper in her hands before hiding his face in her legs. She instinctively used one hand to cup the back of his head as she looked at the picture he had given her. It was of her, dressed in a white lab coat with a stethoscope, Sherlock, in his traditional Belstaff Coat, and Luke, dressed as he was that day.
Jo smiled and ruffled his hair fondly. "Thank you Luke; I love it."
"Really?" Luke asked, tilting his head back just a bit so he could peak up at her.
She nodded. "Really. I'll keep it forever."
"Do you want to play with me? I have blocks," he said, looking up at her hopefully.
It broke her heart to have to shake her head. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I can't. I have to work tonight and I need to go home to get ready first. But I'm sure we can play some other time. I happen to love blocks, and doctors just don't get to play with them enough."
"Do you promise you'll come back?" He asked, looking as if he was fighting back tears.
She nodded, smiling again. "I promise." She and Sherlock quickly finished their goodbyes and then got into the cab Sherlock had called.