As much as Jo was able to reassure Katherine and Sherlock that everything was going to be okay, when it was just her, she wasn't nearly as confident. She did her best to get some sleep, but she wasn't able to manage more than a few hours at a time. And so she spent hours lying awake on her cot, thinking about everything that she was doing her best not to think about. She had the utmost faith in Sherlock's abilities, but even if he proved her innocence on these charges, she had promised to tell him everything else, which meant that she could still lose everything. And that was assuming that whatever evidence Sherlock managed to find was accepted, which was no guarantee when it came to Barrs. She found herself counting down the minutes until the deadline Kat had given her was up; she couldn't help but wonder from what direction her salvation would come.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\

This was, by far, the most stressful case of Sherlock's career. Normally he would have reveled in the challenge that the case produced, but it was far less exciting when Jo was the one sitting behind bars. The time limit she had given him was fast approaching, making things both more stressful and more confusing. He had no idea why Jo had restricted him the way that she had, but he was willing to trust that whatever reasons she had were justifiable. He was in the sitting room, sifting through all of the evidence that he had spread out over every available flat surface, when Mycroft came in, uninvited and unannounced.

Sherlock didn't even look up, hoping that, for once, his brother would go away if he wasn't acknowledged.

"Isn't the silent treatment a bit juvenile even for you?" Mycroft asked, sounding unbearably condescending.

The detective grit his teeth together and barely avoided rolling his eyes. "I'm not giving you the silent treatment; I'm working. I'm rather short on time, so if you could just get to the point, that would be much appreciated."

"Ah yes, your flatmate's case," he said, taking a seat in the leather chair. "I thought that you didn't like cases that had a mystery on both ends."

He purposefully loosened his jaw for fear of cracking a tooth. "This case doesn't have a mystery on both ends. I know that Jo didn't do it: the mystery is proving it."

"And you're not at all curious about why the NOA would assume Dr. Watson to be a suspect in the first LEF attack to occur since her return from Afghanistan?" He asked, sounding as smug as he usually did after winning an argument."

The detective shook his head, wishing with everything he had that he could avoid this conversation. "Jo will tell me when she gets home."

"Are you sure about that?" He pressed, sounding obviously skeptical.

He sighed, clenching his hands into fists. "She promised that she would, and I trust her."

"You don't trust anyone." Mycroft pointed out. "But you do trust the facts, and I have them. I can tell you exactly what the NOA wants with your Doctor Watson; all you have to do is ask."

Sherlock hesitated before shaking himself. "I'll wait for Jo to tell me herself; I trust her."

"Suit yourself," he replied, standing up and preparing to leave. "But remember, this is a standing offer. If you ever want to find out who your flatmate really is, the information will always be available to you."

He clenched his jaw again. He closed hes eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose as he listened to Mycroft walk away, hating how his brother always knew which buttons to push. After a few moments he was able to push past his anger and get back to work.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Katherine's deadline was almost past when Jo was told that she had a visitor. Her heart was pounding as she was lead out of her cell, and she wasn't sure whether she should be relieved or not to see Kat sitting on the other side of the Plexiglas instead of Sherlock. She sat down and picked up the telephone receiver, forcing herself not to fidget.

"Jo, how are you?" Kat asked, looking genuinely concerned.

Jo shrugged. "I'm as well as can be expected. Do you have any news for me?"

"That Sherlock of yours really is something else," she said, cracking a smile. "He showed up at my door at half three this morning with all the evidence I need to prove your innocence. I've already spoken to the prosecutor, and he's agreed to drop all charges. You'll be home before dinner."

She grinned, feeling a bit breathless. "That's fantastic. I mean, wow, I didn't really expect that I'd ever really get to go home."

"Do you really have so little faith in your friends?" She asked, looking hurt and trying to hide it.

"I really have that little faith in the NOA," she answered dryly. "I always figured that if Barrs ever got me in a place like this, the he wouldn't let me go for anything less than a direct order from the queen herself."

Kat laughed, shaking her head. "I definitely see your point on that one. It's a good thing that Sherlock's evidence was so indisputable not even Barrs could argue with him. He sure is very thorough."

"That's definitely one word for it," she said, smirking. "Of course, most people would use a few different words to describe him."

She laughed. "Well, you've always had a soft spot for the difficult ones Jo Watson. You're lucky to have him."

"Yeah, I am," she answered with a fond, faraway smile. "Luckier than I ever thought I'd be."

Kat grinned knowingly. "Yeah, well, you better invite me to the bonding ceremony."

"It's not like that. We're just friends," she said, rolling her eyes and sounding exasperated. "Now stop fishing for gossip and go do your job. I'm ready to get out of here; orange really isn't my color." She winked adn hung up her receiver, calling for a guard."

\\\\\\\\\\\\

As promised, Jo made it back to Baker Street before dinner. She hadn't bothered to call Sherlock when she was released; instead taking a cab by herself, ignoring the driver's questioning looks at the fact that she was only wearing a too-big blue bathrobe. When she walked into the flat the first thing she saw was Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson frantically trying to clear the sea of papers out of the sitting room. They froze when they heard her come in, looking up at her with a pair of inexplicably guilty expressions.

Mrs. Hudson recovered, smiling and hurrying over to embrace her tenant. "Jo! It's so good to have you home dear. We were worried sick about you."

"You should have called."Sherlock added, sounding oddly nervous. "I would have come and brought you some proper clothes, at least."

Jo shrugged. "I didn't really think about it; I was just focused on getting the hell out of there." She paused but continued talking before either of the others had the chance to say anything. "I'm going to go and take the hottest shower you can imagine. I haven't felt even remotely clean in days."

Mrs. Hudson kissed her cheek. "You do that, love, and I'll go get your super." Jo thanked her and then went upstairs, doing her best to ignore the fact that she was too afraid to look directly at her flatmate.

\\\\\\\\

When Jo finally came back downstairs, freshly showered and dressed in blessedly clean clothes, Mrs. Hudson was no where to be seen. There was, however, a full dinner on the kitchen table and Sherlock standing nervously in the kitchen, clutching a bottle of wine as if his life depended on it. They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say, before Jo went with her instincts. She gently pulled the bottle out of her flatmate's hands and set it on the table; then, without giving herself time to second guess what she was about to do, she wrapped her arms tightly around Sherlock's waist, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. He hesitated, flailing just a little bit, before hugging her back, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply. It felt like he was actually scenting her, and Jo squeezed her eyes closed even tighter so that she could pretend that that was what he was really doing.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not showing any sign of letting him go. "I know that this isn't something you do; just give me another moment and I'll let go."

"It's fine," he answered, his voice just as quiet and rough as hers. "We can do this for as long as you like." Jo nodded but didn't relax even when he tightened his grip on her.