John's house

Marie yawned, having just placed the twins and Rosie to sleep for their afternoon nap, when something caught her eye.

A soft smile lit her face and she stood up carefully, leaving the sleeping babies as she walked across the room to pick up a framed photograph. It was from John and Mary's wedding, one of the few photos that they'd managed to have taken where it was just the four of them.

John stood beaming on the left, while Mary smiled as she hung onto his arm lovingly in the centre of the frame. Beside the blonde woman was Marie, laughing at the camera as she grabbed Sherlock's arm and dragged him into the photo. He'd joined the picture reluctantly, but there was a small smile on his face as his gaze remained on Marie, ignoring the camera as it took the group shot.

'It's just as well.' Marie mused to herself. 'The rest of us were smiling and laughing while facing a would-be murderer - typical.'

Marie chuckled as she ran her thumb fondly over the photo.

Her thumb paused over Mary's face as she did, and her gaze softened as Marie remembered John's latest announcement to her and Sherlock: he was selling his house - the house he had bought with Mary after their marriage had been formally decided.

It had been a monumental decision; but after great deliberation, John had concluded that Rosie would need more than his paternal supervision. He couldn't rely on Molly or Mrs. Hudson forever, and so he'd decided to move closer to the best maternal figure Rosie could have.

Therefore, he'd said, he was moving to 221C Baker Street. It was the best decision for both Rosie, and himself, and John knew Mary would have been proud and happy with his decision.

Mrs. Hudson was ecstatic too, happy to have John back and to have the basement flat taken once more. It had needed very little fixing and cleaning, for Marie had been efficient in having it restored when she'd first moved in six years ago.

'Six years…' Marie mused. 'That's all it's been – six years. And yet, it's been so much more. So much has changed; but at the same time… so little has, in the end.'

"Isn't that right, Mary?" Marie asked, as she looked up and smiled at the apparition of Mary before her, who grinned back.

"Of course." Mary replied smugly, and Marie laughed.

"They're safe, now." Marie noted. "Safe from it all… and from themselves. You don't have to worry about it."

"Just like you now have nothing to fear." Mary pointed out, and Marie smiled softly.

"I wish you could have been here with us." She murmured, and Mary smiled kindly.

"I'm just glad you didn't share the same fate as me." Mary answered gently. "We, who were too similar…"

Flashback

2014

"Your other best friend is an ex-assassin," Sherlock had said to John impatiently, "who now works for the secret service and is currently engaged to your sociopath best friend…"

"You're abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people, so is it truly such a surprise, that the woman you've fallen in love with conforms to that pattern?"

Marie's green eyes met Mary's blue ones, and Mary swallowed as she finally saw a hint of sympathy. Mary had been right - Marie did know too well what it would feel like to be in Mary's shoes.

"Who spent our entire lives," Mary continued, "certain that our demons would one day catch up to us…"

Late 2015

Marie exhaled sharply before she asked randomly: "Do you ever think back to everything you've done, and wish now that you hadn't done most of it?"

"Yes." Mary answered briefly and flatly. "It was… fun, at the time, the adventures, the thrills, but… yes. I do look at Rosie now, and think back and…"

"Jim had enemies, enemies that are by association my enemies; and now even his allies are my enemies. I just," Marie sighed, "I just can't shake the feeling that karma always comes back to bite us."

"It's nice to be proven wrong, just once, isn't it?" Mary smiled.

"Oh, it was more than once." Marie laughed, though there was a hint of sadness as she gazed at Mary.

Mary just smiled, while Marie acknowledged: "But yes – it's nice to be proven wrong, once in a while."

2012

"You don't even know my name." She whispered, and Sherlock replied quietly: "But I know your heart. And despite what you think, it is a good one."

She closed her eyes at that, a tear slipping through and falling down her cheek.

2014

The tears spilled over and Mary – or Rosamund Mary, as she later revealed her name to be - whispered, her voice breaking: "You don't even know my name."

"Is 'Mary Watson' good enough for you?" John asked, and Mary sobbed: "Yes! Oh, my God, yes!"

2012

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked softly, his lips just brushing against hers.

Her lips curved into a smile, and she breathed just before Sherlock closed the small space between them: "Victoire Marie Spencer."

"And you can look after our boys now." Mary added with a smile, and Marie laughed again.

"Yes." She smiled. "Our boys. We really are too similar."

"You fell for a junkie, who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high…" Mary mused.

Early 2010

Sherlock unzipped a body bag, looking inside and wrinkling his nose a little as he sniffed before reaching for his riding crop.

"And you fell for a doctor, who never came home from the war." Marie teased back, a small smile on her face as she and Mary exchanged knowing looks.

Early 2010

John awoke violently, jolting up in bed, alone, with his latest memories of the Afghan War ringing in his mind.

"It's almost like a story isn't it?" Marie mused, but Mary corrected with a smile: "That's what matters though, isn't it? The legend, the stories, the adventures."

"Stories…" Marie mused. "Yes… I suppose, we're all just stories in the end, aren't we? Fairytales, and mysteries, and dramas…"

"Those were stories we lived." Mary laughed. "Think about it: we were two spies, with no-one left to trust in the world, nothing to live or die for… and then, they came into our lives."

In 221B, a workman swept up the burnt and ruined articles lying around the sitting room while another man stuffed rubbish into large, black plastic bags.

John stood before the fireplace, looking around the room tiredly as he rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if they would ever be able to get things into order again so that Sherlock and his family could move back in while John's family could move into the basement flat.

Sherlock himself, however, sat in his rescued armchair… texting casually, as Greg texted him frantically with the details of some case he was having difficulty solving. Typical Scotland Yard.

"But that's what they do best, isn't it?" Marie laughed, shaking her head. "The so-called sociopath and the thrill-seeking doctor; yet together, they can inspire hope and refuge; for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted."

In the midst of the debris in 221B, which Sherlock had finally moved to help clean up, Sherlock picked up the animal skull that usually hung on the wall between the windows.

He paused, before looking up as John turned around from where he'd just bent down to pick up a pair of headphones from near the fireplace.

John looked from the headphones to the skull, before he smiled as Sherlock silently held out the skull. John placed the headphones back on the animal skull, where they belonged below the horns, and looped the cable over the top.

Sherlock then turned, looking for somewhere to put the skull, while John moved to fix up the wallpaper.

"There is a final court of appeal for everyone." Mary reminded her friend. "You, me… anyone, everyone."

In 221B, John spray-painted the back wall with yellow paint while Sherlock – having fixed the mantelpiece over the fireplace – beamed.

John stepped back when he'd finished, proud of his work, before he looked back over his shoulder at Sherlock expectantly. Sherlock grinned as he lifted his pistol, spinning the chamber before he cocked the gun, aimed, and fired two shots right into the yellow smiley face on the wall.

John also grinned widely as Sherlock beamed, blowing the muzzle of his pistol in satisfaction before he pulled out one of the many letters he'd received in his absence, stabbing the envelope of a potentially intriguing into the wood of the mantelpiece.

Just as Mrs. Hudson strode into the flat, having heard the gunshots, and she lifted her hands in exasperation when she saw what they'd done to her wall and her mantelpiece.

"When life gets too strange..." Marie said slowly.

Sometime in the future

Sherlock walked around the client chair in his camel dressing gown, frowning down at the antique ventriloquist's dummy sitting there, while John observed from his armchair and Marie shook her head at the absurdity of the case as she walked passed the room with both her children in her arms.

"Too impossible," Mary finished for her, "or too frightening…"

Sherlock stood up from his armchair, dressed in his regular suit and jacket, and he frowned as he walked across the room to examine the feet of a dead man lying on his back in the middle of the sitting room floor.

John was trying to revive the man as he patted the face of the male dressed like a Viking with one hand, while using his other to peel the strange man's eyelid open so he could check if the man was conscious.

Marie was on the phone, checking on Rosie and the twins – who were downstairs with Mrs. Hudson – while she nodded at Sherlock, agreeing with him as they mouthed together: "Shoes."

"There is always one last hope." Mary murmured.

Mrs. Hudson walked into the sitting room, carrying Scottie while Molly followed, carrying Rosie. John brought up the rear, carrying Sheryl... who instantly reached for her father's abandoned microscope as the man himself dashed towards the kitchen to stop Marie from opening the fridge and ruining his experiment, while Marie argued with him for placing it in the fridge around lunchtime.

Blood coagulation in severed toes or not, his children needed to eat!

"When all else fails…" Mary continued, smiling at Marie as they faced each other, and Marie chimed in with a smile back at Mary: "There are two men sitting, arguing in a scruffy flat..."

John shook his head in despair as he went to wash his hands, after Rosie had spilt her food all over his hands by accident when she'd hit her food bowl as she played with her spoon on her baby table.

Sherlock endeavoured to prevent any more messes from happening in John's absence, while simultaneously trying to keep his own children out of trouble as they started to squirm in their baby chairs. He expertly placed a plastic microscope and a plastic set of keys in front of Sheryl and Scottie respectively, and instantly the two children became absorbed in examining and playing with their toys.

Seeing Rosie about to fall out of her own chair, Sherlock moved to catch his goddaughter before she could come to any harm.

Spotting movement down the hallway, Sherlock smiled and he pointed across the room with his free hand as he held Rosie close to his own body, as he said: "Oh, there's Daddy!"

John smiled as he walked back into the room, holding out his hands for his daughter and Rosie gurgled happily as she went into her father's arms. "Dada!"

"Yes, da- Sheri!" John yelled as he dove for the little girl as Sheryl stood up unsteadily in her baby's chair, trying to examine the ceiling with her microscope.

Startled, Sheryl tipped over in her seat, falling with a cry towards Scottie. Sherlock and John dove to save the babies, John balancing Rosie precariously while he grabbed his godson's chair and held the baby up safely as Sherlock caught and swung his daughter in his arms while catching Scottie's cup as it fell off his baby chair.

"With one woman to balance them out when things get too crazy." Mary went on. "Like they've always been there."

Marie walked into the flat, laughing and shaking her head at the Sherlock and John's antics, when they heard footsteps on the stairs.

She turned, before smiling in greeting and moving out of the way for Greg as the distressed D.I. hurried into the room. He nodded hastily at Marie in greeting before turning to Sherlock for help while John looked on in surprise before he shook his head in exasperation.

No, it was not a good idea to propose to Molly so soon after Greg had finally finished all the paperwork and legalities to officially divorce his cheating wife. Even Sherlock had to know that… Sherlock?

"And they always will be." Marie promised. "Even if everything else changes."

Mary smiled.

Marie laughed ecstatically and Sherlock beamed proudly, as Scottie ran his first real steps across the sitting room without aid and without falling over.

Sheryl giggled with equal delight as she ran away from her chasing brother, while Scottie chuckled jubilantly as he ran after his sister. The twins squealed and gurgled as they played about the room, while their parents watched contently, Marie leaning her head against Sherlock as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"The best and wisest men I have ever known." Mary sighed contently. "And the best and truest woman to have been there for them."

Marie smiled.

Marie sat beside her parents-in-law, while Mycroft sat on his parents' other side as they watched in silence from the side of the cell room as Sherlock and Eurus played together.

Sherlock had that small smile on his face as he communicated with his sister in their own special way, but it was the first time Marie had ever seen such a soft, innocent smile in the older woman. Eurus's smile was barely there, but it was there – and, more importantly, it was there in her eyes.

Those eyes, that had once looked at them so coldly as she conducted the cruelest experiments a human being possibly could, were now filled with a warmth and contentment that had Marie smiling slightly too.

As they listened to the beautiful music, the elder Holmes's saw the same thing Marie did. Mr. Holmes watched his son proudly, while Mycroft watched his sister almost incredulously and with more than a hint of thoughtfulness.

But his eyes were drawn down, before he looked up at his mother with soft eyes as she – while not looking at him as she kept her eyes down to focus on the music swelling around them – placed her hand on his and squeezed slightly.

"Our Baker Street boys." Marie finished softly.

"Sherlock Holmes."

She smiled.

"And Dr. Watson."

Sherlock, John, and Marie all dashed out of the building, waving back with smiles as Mrs. Hudson waved Rosie's hand after them from the doorway, Molly waving Scottie's, and Greg waved Sheryl's as he held Molly's ringed left hand in his own.

Mary smiled back, and she murmured before she disappeared forever: "And don't forget, their 'mysterious' muse - Marie Holmes."

Sherlock, John, and Marie ran all the way out of the building, turning away from their happy friends and family as they faced forward, racing towards their next adventure.

*A/N I want to thank all my readers, who stuck with me until the end. This is the last installment of the 'Odd' series, so I want to say a personal and big thank you to each and every one of you who kept me motivated and supported me all the way. A special thanks is also in order to everyone who reviewed and/or favourited this story and the others before it. I don't know what else to say, except that this is it; it's the final dot at the end of the chapter. Thank you, and hopefully it won't be goodbye forever.