It is much darker when I become aware of my surroundings again. An odd sniffing sound is distracting me from the fact that I still lie on my Watson's firm body.

I hear and feel him chuckle lowly.

Something is licking my ear and it is not him.

I open my eyes and stare directly into Gladstone's round face.

Watson scratches our dog throughout and I almost get jealous.

I turn and sit up to face my...beloved.

His features are so open and soft, it warms my heart.

"We should have done this much earlier." He whispers, stroking my thigh. His voice sounds warm and comfortable.

"Indeed." Is the only thing I can say. Sadness starts to creep up into my awareness. "What now?" I suddenly need to get up. His strong presence makes me dizzy and I need to think. He gets up as well, disappearing into my bed room and I hear the water splashing into the bowl.

I check my pocket watch. 9 pm.

When Watson comes out of my bedroom stark naked, handing me a wet cloth, I cannot help but smile. It should have been like this for years. I clean myself up and put my trousers back on, then light my pipe thoughtfully as he searches for his clothing on the floor.

"I should go back." He murmurs. Then he looks at me with a hurt glance like a wounded animal and says lowly, "I do not want to."

He puts on all his wrinkled clothes and I watch him in fascination.

We just made love.

This can not be the end of it.

"You could stay." I just say and take the collar he was about to put on out of his fingers. I feel myself go all soft inside again, standing so close to him. I take his face into my hands, make him look at me. "Watson, I..."

"Do not say it." He interrupts me. "I know. Me too." We meet half way for a completely different kiss than before. Gentle caresses of our tongues and lips, our bodies in a tight embrace. It goes on for a long while, until a knock at the door startles us apart.

"Mr. Holmes, an urgent note for you." Mrs Hudson slips it beneath the door, as she always does when I am experimenting with my weapons.

I pick it up.

My heart sinks very low when I recognize the handwriting.

"What is it?" Watson asks, probably because of the fact that I must have turned pale.

"It is from your fiance ." I turn it round and round. "It is addressed to me."

He frowns and let himself fall into his favourite armchair. "What does she want?" He asks under his breath.

I open up the letter, my heart in my throat. If she accuses me of criminal doings...

The letter reads:

"Mr. Holmes, my dear John." I gasp and he is beside me instantly, looking over my shoulder, his arm securely around it.

"It is very hard for me to write this letter. But I am not used to living with lies and I never want to, so I am writing this. As I stated already to you, Mr. Holmes, in the hospital, I know that you care for John as much as I do." There is a wet spot on the page. Tears.

"I know that he is with you at this very moment. He did not tell me, but I sense that he cannot live without you. He got more and more restless during the last days so I sent him off to visit you. Please take good care of him, Mr. Holmes. I love him very much." Watson's grip around my shoulder hardens.

"But, I think he loves you more."

"Oh my god." Watson gasps beside me and I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable.

"No, I will not report you to the police. He would not survive if you went to prison." There was something scratched out on the page.

"And so, I would like to ask you a favour. I would be very delighted if you could attend our wedding." I frown and lean against him.

"I am aware that rumours circulate about you two already since you have shared a flat for so long. I am willing to prevent them by marrying John. I am be your cover." There were more tears spilled on the page mixed with ink and I tell myself, that I have to study this woman much more closely.

"But I have one demand. You have to share him with me." I sigh with utter relief. No police, no process, no proving that I have not slept with my best friend. I feel like dancing, actually. I think I can live with a tiny bit of jealousy compared to the other circumstances.

He takes the note from me and reads into my ear, "John, I love you and I want you to be happy. You would have never told me all this, but I have eyes that can see very well and I have a large experience with people. You, my dear fianc , love Mr. Holmes more than a friend. You would die for him and that is true love. So please, take my offer and be my husband and ...his. Your sad, but still hopeful, Mary"

I am speechless. Mary Morstan is a far more experienced woman then I gave her credit for. I swallow the lump in my throat, reading the whole note again.

"She has quiet a few detection skills of her own." I muse, trying to ignore the fact, that she, too, heard rumours about him and me.

Watson looks like he was struck by a lightening.

"She is..." He takes the letter from me, studying it.

"Right?" I enquire, letting my hands wander over his clothed back, desire overtaking my muddled senses yet again.

"Yes." He whispers, his hands slipping beneath my dressing gown.

"So you are an object to share?" I am suddenly in a funny mood. I feel him chuckle against my collar bone. "I suppose." He bites me and I groan. He makes me sit into the armchair, leaning over me, kissing my eyelids. I go all mushy inside. My dick gets interested already again when I feel Watson's hands slide down my bare sides. It looks like we have several years to catch up with.

"You know," A thought occurs to me, "I would die for you too." I just have to say it.

"No dying." He says shortly and then opens up my belt again and my cock twitches expectantly. He looks up at me, licking his lips. "We need to write to her."

I nod, and gasp, "Later." When he takes the tip of my aroused cock into his mouth.