Sherlock watched Jo interact with the others seated at their table and couldn't help but notice that even if she wasn't as comfortable with them as she was with her pack, she was more at ease with them than Sherlock had ever seen her, with the obvious exceptions of Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and himself. Even so, she kept sending him wary sidelong glances as if she were expecting him to either bolt for the door or say something devastatingly insightful. Instead, Sherlock was in the middle of a surprisingly interesting conversation with one of their table-mates about the meaning of various tattoos in different countries. He tried to give her reassuring smiles when he caught her looking, but those had never been his strong suit and he couldn't be sure that he had succeeded. After dinner but before they cut the cake there was a small break and Jo and Sherlock were once again alone at their table.

"Having a good time?" Jo asked, smiling at him.

Sherlock nodded, smiling back. "Surprisingly, yes. How about you? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I am," she answered simply. "But I would like to apologize for what happened with William. I should have known better than to drop you into that situation and expect him to behave himself."

He shook his head. "You can't be expected to have complete control over everyone in your pack; that's just unrealistic."

"But I should have seen this coming," she protested. "Will has never really responded well to new-comers — especially if they're placed in a higher position than him. I should have been prepared for him to try something; we're actually pretty lucky that he didn't lunge for anyone's throat."

The detective gave her a little smirk. "You don't sound very fond of him."

"I'm not," she answered with a shrug. "The only reason any of us even put up with him is Nic."

"What do you mean?" He asked, turning to face his friend more fully.

Jo sighed, "The lines between Lycan Classification aren't nearly as black and white as most people seem to think they are. I mean, yes, there are tests you can run that will tell you genetically which classification someone is, but there are some individuals that display the traits of a classification they don't technically belong to. Nicholas is one of those individuals; he is technically a Beta but often presents as an Omega. William is also a Beta, but he prefers to be more dominant. Because Nic is so passive, he has always relied heavily on his brother. Unfortunately Will has taken advantage of this dependence. When they showed up at Argentum, our base in Afghanistan, Nic was barely able to function separately from his brother. It was awful; he was more like a kicked dog than a man. It took me weeks to even convince him to talk to me. It took months to get him comfortable enough to join the pack, and he never would have managed it at all if we hadn't accepted William too." She turned to look at the were the twins were sitting: William was glaring into the middle distance but Nic was laughing quietly at something Bill Murray had said, looking very reserved. "Hopefully one day he'll manage to get out from under his brother's thumb."

"But until he does you'll be there when he needs you," Sherlock said knowingly once it became clear that she was done speaking.

She smiled. "Of course, he's in my pack."

There was a moment of silence before Sherlock asked, "So if William doesn't enjoy being submissive, then how did you convince him to join your pack?"

"Let's just say that I have my ways," she answered with a smirk.

"Jo," he needled, more than a little curious.

She sighed again, her smirk looking a bit more forced. "I actually did let him push me up against a wall for a quickie once. And then it was easy to get him to follow me; I guess he hasn't quite got over the fact that it was just a one off."

Sherlock gaped at her. "What, really?"

"Don't look so appalled," she snapped, her body language closing up defensively.

"It just seems out of character," he replied quickly.

She shrugged. "You have to use what skills you have at your disposal. I'm not a Lycan; I don't smell right, I can't Change, and I'm not physically strong enough to assert my dominance. So occasionally I have to use some less than traditional methods to gain loyalty."

"Like sex," he said, unable to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

Jo bristled even further. "How many times have I heard you say that sex dulls the mind and makes already overly sentimental fools even more sentimental and easily manipulated. You're not allowed to judge me for acting upon and utilizing the same facts that you constantly bemoan. And it's not like you don't do the same thing to solve your cases."

"I do not sleep with people to solve my cases," he interjected, sounding genuinely offended.

"I know that", she said with a sigh. "I didn't mean it to sound like that. I just meant that you observe people and then use that knowledge to solve cases, often manipulating stimuli in order to garner desired reactions. All I'm saying is that I've done the same thing with sex in order to assert my dominance over specific individuals in certain situations."

"But you're not queer," he protested, still sounding confused.

"No, I'm not," she agreed. "But I'm not exactly falling over myself with attraction to William, either." Sherlock nodded to show that he understood but didn't know what to say. After a moment of silence Jo continued. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go spreading that little piece of information around; not many people are as understanding as you."

He gave her a withering look. "Who am I going to tell? You're the one with the blog."

She rolled her eyes. "You have a website. And I am far more discrete about what I put on the internet than you are. I've never used my blog to arrange a secret meeting with a deranged, psychopathic criminal-mastermind."

"That was one time!" He protested, battling back a smile. "And you're never going to let me live it down, are you?"

Jo didn't' bother fighting her smile. "It was a memorable night. And you don't give me very many opportunities to hold things over your head; I have to make good use of the few that I have." He gave her one of his amused half smiles but didn't say anything before they both turned their attention to Jackson and Isabella, who were ready to cut the cake.

After the cake had been eaten and the toasts had been given, the dance floor was opened up. Jo had no shortage of partners, dancing with both the bride and groom as well as many of the other guests. Sherlock, on the other hand, was coaxed into standing up with Isabella, but he wasn't even approached after that. He amused himself thoroughly by watching Jo dance. She looked more carefree and comfortable than Sherlock had ever seen her while in physical contact with anyone, including himself; he spent a fairly significant portion of his energy trying to stamp down his surprisingly strong feelings of jealousy about that. After about an hour he could tell that Jo was getting tired, so he met her at the edge of the dance floor with a drink.

She smiled at him as she accepted it. "Thank you. I hope you haven't been feeling too abandoned."

"Not at all," he replied, taking a drink from his own glass. "It's been a great opportunity to observe Lycans' reaction to pack-like stimuli in a distinctly non-pack oriented situation."

Jo smiled. "Is that Sherlock-speak for you enjoyed watching people dance?" Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes but didn't deny it. Before they had the chance to continue their conversation, Isabella came up to them, Jackson trailing behind her. Jo turned to greet her with a smile, but before she could say anything, Isabella dropped to her knees, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

"Captain Watson," she said, her voice calm and steady, "I would like to formally request a position in your pack. I know that I'm only human, but it's not exactly a traditional pack."

"Isabella," Jo said breathlessly, handing her glass off to Sherlock, "this is unnecessary. You're Jackson's mate; we'll be there for you regardless of whether or not you join the pack on your own."

The woman on her knees nodded. "I know, but Jack is my mate, and I need to be a part of his family — his pack. And I know what this means; I'm not naive. I know what Pack means. It means doing anything for your packmates, protecting them, going to any lengths when they call you. And it means that I would owe my allegiance to you. I know and understand all of this and I am fully prepared for the consequences of this decision. Please Jo, you won't regret it. I will be just as loyal to you as anyone of your men."

Jo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "If you're sure that you want to do this, then I certainly have no objection."

"I'm sure," she answered, loud enough for the gathered crowd to hear.

Jo nodded. "Then Isabella Swift, I welcome you wholeheartedly and without reservation into my Pack." Isabella bared her neck and Jo leaned down to bite at the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. Isabella gasped and then cried out as Jo bit down hard enough to draw blood. Jo carefully licked away the blood before accepting the napkin Sherlock offered her and pressing it against the wound.

"Wouldn't want to stain your dress," Jo quipped, offering a hand to help Isabella off her knees. "Welcome to the Pack.

Isabella beamed. "Thank you."

"Come on Love," Jason said, stepping forward and wrapping his arm around his mate's waist, "let's go find a bandage for your neck." He nodded at Jo, smiling. "Thank you, Captain." She returned his nod and his smile but didn't say anything before the happy couple left in search of a med-kit.

Jo turned back to Sherlock with a smile. "Well that was unexpected. Thanks for holding my drink." Sherlock handed her glass back with a strange look on his face. "What?" Jo asked, almost frowning.

"You have blood in your teeth," he answered, still looking vaguely disgusted.

"Oh, sorry." She took a large drink and swirled it around in her mouth to get rid of the blood. "Better?"

Sherlock nodded, not saying anything and still looking rather repulsed. Jo nodded slowly and took another drink. The pair headed back to their table so Jo could rest her feet, still maintaining their silence. Neither one of them really understood what exactly had put Sherlock off and they had come to some sort of silent agreement not to discuss it.

The rest of the evening passed with relative ease, with Jo continuing to dance every now and then and Sherlock continuing to watch from his seat, his unexplained discomfort from earlier having dissipated. The party was winding down and Jo was once again sitting beside her friend. Eli was watching her from across the room, again, and Sherlock finally decided to say something about it.

"He wants to take you home tonight," he said, nodding at the soldier. "Or back to his hotel room, more accurately."

Jo nodded. "I know. But I'm not interested."

"Because you're not queer," he replied, acknowledging, if only to himself, that he was fast developing a fixation on that particular personality trait of his flatmate's.

She rolled her eyes. "Because I know better than to screw with my Pack's dynamics." Sherlock nodded as if he understood. Jo smiled brightly. "Come on 'Lock, dance with me, just this once. I've danced with everybody else and you haven't stood up with anyone."

"That's not true," he protested, even as he got to his feet. "I danced with Isabella." Jo rolled her eyes but stayed quiet as she accepted his offered hand.

The DJ was conveniently playing a slow song, which worked well for Sherlock since he hadn't actually danced to anything else while sober and had no intention of rectifying this ever, let alone in a room full of mostly strangers. He let Jo lead him onto the dance floor and tried not to flinch when she pulled him closer. He tentatively placed one hand on her waist, still holding onto her hand with his left. She gripped his shoulder with her free hand and they both tried to pretend that it wasn't even the slightest bit awkward.

"Thank you for coming with me," Jo said after a few moments of tense silence.

Sherlock shrugged. "It's no problem. You'd do the same for me. This is what friends do for each other, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Jo agreed. "But it's more painful for you than it is for most people, and I just want you to know that I appreciate the effort that you've gone to to be nice today."

He quirked a smile. "Well, I know that you've been looking forward to this, and, contrary to popular opinion, I don't actually want to ruin everything good in your life."

"I know," she replied. "That doesn't mean that it doesn't take effort for you to put up with people in a decidedly social situation." Sherlock just hummed and forced himself not to flinch or pull away when Jo leaned in even closer and rested her head on his shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, he let go of her hand in order to wrap his arm around her shoulders, curling his fingers around her left shoulder and covering her scar with his palm. They continued to sway in silence, comfortably wrapped in each other's arms. Sherlock had no idea what was going through Jo's head, but he couldn't help but pray to every probably-false-deity who might-or-might-not possibly be listening that Jo wouldn't be able to tell just how hard his heart was pounding. After a few more moments he took a chance and pulled her even closer against him; he was rewarded when Jo nuzzled into him even further.

When the song ended they didn't pull apart immediately. Instead, they slowly separated, letting their hands drag ever so slightly as they pulled away. Jo cleared her throat and turned to look around the room. Sherlock couldn't be sure because of the dim lighting, but he thought he saw her blushing before she turned away.

"Thank you for dancing with me," she said quietly, facing him again.

"Anytime," Sherlock answered, briefly hoping that he didn't sound too eager.

Jo smiled at him. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, just give me a few minutes to say goodbye and we can go."

He nodded. "Alright, I'll come with you. It would only be polite for me to say goodbye to the happy couple. After all, they did actually invite me." Jo smiled and led the way.

They made their rounds and then Jo retrieved her things. They were walking towards the back door when they were intercepted by William. He stood in front of them, blocking their path with his arms folded over his chest. Jo sighed and widened her stance to something more easily defensible.

"William get out of the way," she demanded. "I have neither the time nor the patience for your games."

William rolled his eyes. "Jo, this has nothing to do with you."

"Get out of the way," she said again, her voice hardening even further. "I won't ask you again."

He shook his head. "This is between me and him. He's not part of your pack; you have no right to get involved."

"He may not be," she said dangerously, "but you are and I'm ordering you to stand down!"

Jo saw William tense only moments before he lunged for Sherlock. She intercepted him and spun him around into an open space. William growled and Sherlock was worried that he would make The Change, but, instead, he just lunged at Jo. They sparred for a few minutes before Jo was able to subdue him, pinning him to the ground with his arm twisted behind his back.

"Are you done now?" She asked, her tone making it clear that any answer other than 'yes' would be highly inadvisable. After a few moments, William nodded, still glowering. She slowly let him go and he jumped to his feet.

"You don't have any right!" he yelled, turning red in the face.

Jo glared at him. "I have every right! I am your Alpha and you disobeyed a direct order. I let you off easy; you should count yourself lucky."

"I don't have to put up with this," he pretested, flicking his eyes towards the door.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Then leave; no one's stopping you. But know that if you walk out now, you won't be welcome back. This is not the first time you've challenged me. I will not tolerate this constant undermining of my authority."

William hesitated for just a moment before turning towards the door. "Come on Nic. We're leaving."

Nic, who had been watching the whole altercation, froze like a deer in the headlights. "W-will, I'm not so sure about this. Maybe we should just calm down."

"No," his brother yelled, "I'm not going to play the lap dog for that halfie-queer!"

Jo turned to Nic, her voice calm. "Look, Nic I'm not going to make you choose between me and your brother. You have been nothing but respectful to me from the moment we met. My ultimatum doesn't extend to you."

There was a long pause before Nic took a step closer to Jo. "You've been very good to me; even before I was one of yours. I'm not going to walk out on you."

"Nicholas! Stop screwing around!" William yelled. "We're leaving." He grabbed for his brother's arm, but Nic pulled away. The twins stared at each other for a few tense moments before William huffed and stormed out.

Jo reached out and clasped Nic's shoulder. "Thank you Nic; I know how hard that must have been for you."

Nic shrugged and ducked his head. "I told you, you've been very good to me; the same can't be said of William. I think it's time that I started living my own life."

"Well if you need anything, anything at all," Jo said with a smile, "just let me know. I'll always be here for you." Nic nodded and returned her smile when she kissed his cheek. When she and Sherlock left, Nic was being taken aside by Bill.

That night after they had finally retreated to their own rooms, Sherlock lay awake in his own room, staring at the ceiling. After about an hour and a half he gave up and decided that since Jo was the root of his current bout of insomnia, he might feel better if he could see her. And so he carefully opened the door separating their two rooms and crept silently to Jo's bedside. He sat cross-legged on the floor by her head and tried to take deep, silent breaths. It wasn't too long, however, until Jo started stirring.

"'Lock, that you?" she slurred, sounding slightly worried and very sleepy.

He nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah, it's me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." He moved to get up but Jo dropped her hand to his shoulder.

"It's fine." She sounded like she was waking herself up, which never took very long if she hadn't been drugged. "What's up? Something's bothering you."

He sighed. "It's fine; I was just thinking too hard — working myself in circles."

"You tend to do that when you don't think out loud," she said, amusement obvious in her voice. "Come on, use me as a sit-in for your skull. I'm awake anyway. Do you want me to turn on the light?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No, it's fine; I don't need it."

"Alright then," she said, sounding fully awake now. "What's got that brain of yours ticking into over-drive?" Sherlock honestly wasn't sure what to say and so he stayed quiet while he tried to figure it out, going through everything that had happened that day to try and see what was most relevant to their current situation. Jo, who was used to such lapses in conversation, just stayed quiet and still, trying to focus on not falling asleep again.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Sherlock cleared his throat. "Earlier, when you were talking to William, you said that I wasn't part of your pack."

"Yes, I did," she said quietly, for once instantly understanding where Sherlock was going with his line of thought. "Because you're not. It wasn't a comment on how much I care about you; you don't want to be part of my pack."

He leaned his head back against the side of the bed. "How do you know that? We've never even talked about it before."

"We don't have to talk about it," she said with a small huff of laughter. "Sherlock, you're as queer as it gets; you don't like packs. You have no desire to be submissive to any Alpha, and I don't relish the thought of making you. Sherlock, don't be ridiculous; this is what kept you awake?"

He shrugged. "This is why I don't like pack-situations. They make everyone overly sentimental and illogical."

"Everyone? Even you?" She asked, holding back her laughter.

Sherlock snorted, ignoring her obvious sarcasm. "Even I am not immune to biology, which is something you never seem to tire of telling me."

"I know," she said happily. "I just wanted to hear you say if for once." Her friend hummed but didn't answer, so after a minute or two she asked, "Was there anything else?"

He shook his head. "No, you can go back to sleep now. I'm just going to sit here for a while. Your breathing provides adequate background noise for thinking." She hummed and let herself begin to fall back into sleep. Her breathing evened out and he was fairly certain that she was asleep again when she broke the silence.

"Sherlock, you know that you're not part of my pack because I'm part of yours, right?" She was slurring and sounded half asleep, but she was definitely sincere.

Sherlock allowed himself a private smile. "Really? You want to be part of my pack?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" She said, dropping her hand to his shoulder. "There's no place I'd rather be."

He snorted. "Come on Jo, there's no need for exaggeration. We both know that you never wanted to come back to London. You've made do, but surely it's not ideal."

Jo sighed. "Sherlock, it's never been ideal. I'm a human leading a pack comprised of mostly alphas, We've never been anything other than patched together, and I love them, I really do, but it's exhausting."

"And I'm not exhausting?" He asked tilting his head back to look at her. "You'd be the first person to think so."

She laughed. "Oh you're exhausting in a whole different way. But it's not the same. With you I don't have to worry about posturing or any of that; it wouldn't work on you even if I tried. And there's no ridiculous power struggles; we're all equal in our own special way. I like your pack."

"But I don't have a pack," Sherlock protested. "Not a real one."

She squeezed his shoulder. "Sherlock, of course you have a pack. It just so happens that most of us happen to be human. There's no need for you to deny it out of sheer stubbornness."

"I suppose I can't argue with that," he replied. "But can I ask you something?"

She nodded. "Yeah, of course. What is it?"

"It's about Liam," he warned cautiously. "I know that you said that you and he were never together, but today it seemed like people were talking about you two like you were mates."

Jo sighed. "It's complicated. You've heard about Secondary Mates, right?" When he nodded she continued. "Well that's what Liam and I are. It's purely platonic and he has a lovely mate, Ryan, waiting for him to come home. I was just a placeholder, and it helped ward off any suitors if it looked like I had a mate; it made for a much more stable pack dynamic if no one was vying for the position."

"That makes sense," he answered slowly, getting only a hum in reply.

They fell silent again and this time Jo really did get back to sleep, her hand still holding on to his shoulder. Sherlock stayed seated by her bed for another hour or so, contemplating the confusing social dilemmas that inevitably arose from inserting humans into Packs, before finally getting up and returning to his own room for some much needed rest.