It was an important day for doctor John Watson. A day that will change his whole live. He was sitting in Mary's house, in her parlor, waiting for her. He asked her for this meeting. John was thinking of inviting her for tea to a tea house, but she insisted on meeting in a more private setting. Watson, not entirely happy, agreed on her proposition. He was admiring Mary's taste in decor. Apartment at Baker Street, even when he and mrs. Hudson tried to maintain it in a civil way, was constantly falling victim to Sherlock's chaos. At Watson's complains detective always answered that everything is in it's proper place and even if John consider it as a chaos it is a controlled chaos. While Watson was struggling to pick up anything from the mess not causing an avalanche, Holmes was gracefully maneuvering through piles of random documents and devices. Mary's apartment was bright and pleasant to the eye. As a governess, Mary had a restrained budget but the room was tidy and furniture was well-maintained. China figurines, lace doilies and floral patterns were pervasive. The sound of Mary entering the room has interrupted Watson's thoughts. He stand up from his seat. Mary was caring a tray with a tea set and biscuits, she smiled towards John and he smiled politely back.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting" Mary put the tray on the table next to John, poured him a cup and handed it to him.
"Thank you" John took the cup looking at Mary's sweet smile.
"So, John, what did you want to discuss with me?" she poured herself a cup and took a sit opposite to John.
Watson looked at her. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. Porcelain skin, gentle eyes. A smile that could melt anyones heart. John thought that this smile will bright his days. Now he knew that Mary's smile wasn't for him.
"Mary" he started, putting away the cup of tea and placing his hand on the table. "I.. I am.. I think that.." he stuttered, drifting his gaze away from her. He thought that he prepared himself well for this conversation but now his thoughts were incoherent.
"Oh, John" Mary interrupted him, placing her hand on a top of his, squeezing it gently, "I know."
John looked at her. There was no possibility she could think about the same thing as Watson.
"No, Mary, I.."
"I know" she smiled lovingly, "You and Sherlock. I know."
Watson was in shock. He felt his mouth dropped at Mary's statement. She knew. And still she managed to look at him without a trace of disgust in her eyes?
"But.. how?"
"Oh, John. I knew it. Probably before you and Sherlock realized it. You both are brilliant men but you fail at listening to your hearts" she continued to smile.
"Mary.." Watson felt a load off his chest."And you.."
"Oh "she looked away for a moment, "I came to terms with it. I thought that maybe, deep inside, you have feelings for me, but your heart was already occupied."
"I do have feelings for you!"
Mary smiled looking at John, "Of course you do, just not the same kind you have for Sherlock, right?" she patted his hand.
"I.. I'm deeply sorry for.."
"Don't be. You can't choose who you love, don't you?" she elicited a small laugh, "Thank you for being honest with me."
John was at loss of words. He felt that there was no need for him to be here any longer.
"I should be going" he said standing up. Mary's grip tighten at his hand.
"Please" she said, "Before you go, there is something I must confess too."
After Mary's kind understanding Watson had no other choice but to stay. He didn't want to but he felt obliged. It was at least he could do for her. He sat down.
Mary's face was serious, a hint of sadness in her eyes.
"You know John, I wasn't completely honest with you.."
Watson's heart started to race - did she still loved him? maybe she won't let him leave? will she blackmail him? No. Stop it. Not Mary. He hoped that no of those thoughts could be seen in his face, but then he realized that Mary wasn't even looking at him. She withdraw her hand and touched her ring finger.
"Remember the first time I met Holmes? When he accused me of leaving my future husband to look for a wealthier one?" Watson didn't answer, of course he remembered it.
"I told you then that he died. It's.. it's not the entire truth." Mary looked at him. Watson couldn't tell anything from her gaze.
"He wanted to leave me" she continued looking at him. Watson felt uneasy. He didn't like the direction this conversation was going to."I couldn't bear it. So.. I had to kill him. And.. the same thing… will happen to you!" Mary stood up, lunging at Watson across the table, china falling to the ground, breaking into pieces, Mary's slender fingers, once so delicate, wrapped around Watson's neck. He didn't know what was happening. Mary, sweet Mary, how could she. He tried to pry open her fingers but her grip was surprisingly strong. He was looking at her, but it wasn't Mary any longer. Eyes almost black, teeth bare as a wild animal. He felt dizzy. The lack of oxygen was getting to him. It was getting dark..

"AAAGHH! WATSON!" Sherlock struggled in his sheets. He was entangled, but he must get out, he must help him before it is too late. He continued screaming.
"Holmes.. Holmes.. Sherlock!" he felt a strong body smothering him to the bed. Someone tried to grab his wrist. Sherlock struggled and hit the aggressor in the jaw with his elbow.
"Auch! Bloody hell, Sherlock, calm down!" Watson finally managed to grab Holmes wrist. The second hand was luckily entangled in the sheets. Holmes eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was at Baker Street. His bed. Next to him Watson. He stopped struggling, tried to calm down his breathing.
"Watson!"
"Yes, it's me, Sherlock, calm down" he whispered, leaning close to Holmes. He could see detective's frighten eyes in the darkness. He let go of his wrist and instead hold his hand. Holmes squeezed it, as to make sure that doctor won't disappear. His breathing come back to normal.
"I.. I had a dream.. a nightmare!"
" Shh, it is alright now" Watson tried to disentangle Holmes from the sheets which was rather difficult with one hand. As soon as Holmes could get out his arm, Watson touched Holmes forehead checking for fever. Detective took his hand and placed it over his mouth planting a kiss on the palm with relief. As it was nice, John was worried. Sherlock wasn't the type of a person who got easily scared, his mind was too analytical for that, and being so scared by a dream was unusual. Detective looked into his eyes.
"Did I hit you?"
"You did."
"I see." No apology. An unmistakable proof that Holmes was getting better. Watson had to held a chuckle inside him.
"Let's get you out of it" John took the sheets, disentangled Holmes, which was more like taking clothes of a doll, as Holmes was rather limp and didn't help at all. As soon as Watson lied down, detective clinged to his side, possessively wrapping his arm around doctor.
"Holmes" this time he couldn't hold his laughter. Sherlock looked at him with his big brown eyes, now even bigger from his recent dream. "I'm not going anywhere, you know that, right?"
Sherlock gulped and lied his head on Watson's chest.
"Glad to know that."
John wrapped one hand around Sherlock's waist, the other one started to gently stroke his hair. He felt detective's body to relax.
"Do you want to tell me about your dream?"
"No." stern reply.
"It will make you feel better" Watson smiled to himself. Bickering Holmes, how he adored that.
"I doubt that."
"Just don't tell me that this dream of yours involved horses or ponies" Watson laughed again. Holmes darted his head to look at him with a menacing glance but before Watson could treat it seriously he flashed a goofy smile towards him. Watson laughed again and kissed him on the forehead. A second later they heard a low growl at the base of the bed. They both looked in that direction to see Gladstone who repeated the sound.
"I think that your dog wants to go out" Holmes said.
"I thought he is our dog" Watson smiled at him.
"Yes, but before sunrise he is your dog."
Before Watson could think of appropriate answer Gladstone growled again.
"Fine" John delicately released himself from Holmes grip and stood up. "But we are not done yet" Holmes just flashed a grin as he observed Watson putting his trousers and tucking in night shirt.
"Come on, boy" he tapped his knee on his way out and Gladstone happily followed his master. Holmes stayed in bed. He turned around to look at the window. It was dark outside. Probably 3 a.m. Suddenly Holmes felt weird.

Watson was standing outside, shuffling his legs. It was cold. With one hand he hold Gladstone's leash, second one hidden in his coat's pocket. He felt a hand sliding into his pocket wrapping around his hand. He turned around and saw Holmes standing next to him with his casual, absent facial expression. He was wearing one of Watson's too big for him coats. John smiled.
"I see that your rule doesn't apply to my clothes?"
Holmes looked at him and beamed a smile.
"Our clothes."

uh, I'm still trying to figure out how manage things here..

anyway, hope you enjoyed! inspired by the thought that one of Holmes biggest fears would be losing Watson. Than horses.

a virtual cookie for a person who will tell me from what movie comes the line Holmes says after Gladstone appeared!

and I don't hate Mary (despite what I wrote here), I like her and the actress who plays her is really sweet. John belongs to Sherlock!

and if you think that Holmes acts too boldly - at night people tend to be more daring. That's why I write my fanfiction at night C: