A/N: I have just recently watched Silver Lining's Playbook (a completely awesome movie btw) and was completely captured with one one of the soundtrack songs called 'Walking Home'. This is going to sound really silly but after listening to that song on repeat for several times I kept picturing Sherlock walking home and thinking about Joan. Naturally whilst listening to that song I somehow became inspired to write this. I was trying to capture everything that I felt while listening to that song and I think I might just have done it but through Sherlock's eyes instead. Enjoy and I hope it's to your liking!

There is something about her that makes her the right one for him. He knows this not because of everything she's done for him but because there's just something to her that makes her his one.

He deduces this on his return from the local grocer down the street partly because he finds the walk a little boring and also because there haven't been many cases lately and this has been on his mind for the longest time. On his right and in his right hand he clasps a little and much smaller hand that often times make him smile in the strangest of occasions. But he doesn't look down and instead holds the brown paper bag closer and gently tightens the hold on that little hand.

He will come to that one some other time as for now he has a great many things to deduce about her.

He thinks that perhaps it is simply the way she is when she is with him and completely unguarded and at ease with his company alone. She never seems to be weary in his presence, with the exception of course for occasions where she's been harassed by her mother or her friends. But even yet during those moments she still converses with him in a way which would reflect her indifference to anything that may be of hindrance to her. Her composure doesn't change and the way she calls his name to inquire about something is still so very perfectly her.

But surely he thinks that there is more to it than that. Perhaps the way she smiles at him?

He knows the way she smiles as well as he knows the back of his hand and also as well as he knows that little body obediently trudging along beside him every now and then humming in its little voice to some nursery rhyme. On his part he knows that it doesn't take much for him to make her smile. He has very little to actually do or say or be for he only needs to kiss her unexpectedly or look at her with his 'emotion filled' eyes as he likes to put it when she least expects it.

It starts with a glow growing over her face and then soon the side of her lip curls and form into the smallest but warmest of smiles. Her eyes implore him greatly and sometimes he is sure that she forgets entirely of where they are or what it is they are doing at that moment. He admits that he does forget too because she is somehow blessed with having that effect on him. Although it rarely lasts long when they with company. But it lasts enough moments for his heart to warm considerably.

But wasn't she supposed to be just his companion and guide to being a better person?

His inner thoughts interject his other musings and after a moment he lets go of the thought of her smile to deduce this further because if anything he has to get to the bottom of this before he reaches home. The little body beside him he notes has stopped humming and now seems also to be lost in thought. He doesn't let his thoughts wander any further than that.

She started out as his companion so many years ago and oh how much she has changed in him. She sought out to make him a better person and in so many ways he is very certain she has. He needs no confirmation of that because if not she wouldn't have stayed with him. She wouldn't love him the way she does now or smile at him at all. He might inquire that later on in the evening when they are alone if she does in fact think him to be a better person.

He realizes though then with a sudden awareness that she has actually done so much more than make him a better person. She has made him completely into a better man. There isn't a day now that passes when he doesn't spend some of his hours living to please her. He doesn't completely drop to his knees before her or anything to that drastic level. But he takes care to ensure that she knows that she is loved. If he doesn't tell her than he makes sure she knows by those odd moments when he purposefully catches her gaze. If he isn't able to hold her because of a particularly pressing case he still makes moments to unexpectedly kiss her. But most especially on nights when his mind is alert and scanning through case notes and he is unable to be beside her, he makes it a point to lend just one eye to at least watch over her as she sleeps while the other eye scans his notes.

He felt a small pull in his right hand and knew that his deductions would have to wait momentarily.

He looked down to his right as the little voice spoke up beside him, "Daddy, I thought we were supposed to turn that corner?"

He followed the youngster's pointing finger and realized his error. He offered a weary smile and gave the little hand a squeeze.

"I believe you are quite right, my boy," he noted with a quick nod and turned to walk in the right direction instead.

"Do you think mummy is awake?" his little boy asked and bounced with each step.

"I'm not very sure," he replied truthfully and stopped to check for cars before they crossed to the block where the brownstone sat. "But if she is I'm sure she will be very glad to know that you didn't let your daddy here guide you the wrong way home."

His little boy laughed but said no more as they walked those few remaining paces to their front door.

He was partially glad for that as he still hadn't completed his deductions. He wonders at whether there is anything really to it other than the fact that he loves her and she loves him and that's all. But then again maybe it is just the way that he feels when he is with her. He doesn't feel altogether special or great, but he enjoys every moment with her and he loves everything that they do together. He loves everything about her even though there are certain annoyances that he finds in moments when she doesn't rinse out her toothbrush properly or doesn't spread the peanut butter on his bread as he prefers. They are nothing in comparison to what he feels when he so much as looks at her or when her presence alone fills the same space as him.

There is nothing more fulfilling than to know that she is right there within an arm's length or a simple call. His soul feels so complete and at ease to know that she is safe and right there with him.

Perhaps that is all there is to it?

They step up to the front door and his little boy disregards his hold to excitedly bounce around. He smiled down at the little boy who beamed up at him with so much delight and looking so much like his mother when she smiles. He hardly spent more than a second reaching for the keys in his pocket when he noticed the familiar sound and the click before the door opened.

His little boy excitedly rushed into his mother's arms and he really couldn't blame him. His mother looked completely radiant with the morning sunlight cast over her. Her attire was hardly appropriate for the weather outside but she hardly noticed as she listened very intently to their little boy reciting to her his whole adventure that morning to the grocer. She worked slowly to remove their little boy's thick snow jacket and beanie and gloves. But all the while listened still and offered amazed remarks at his recollection of the whole morning's affair. He closed the door behind him and smiled when she momentarily caught his eye.

He broke the gaze though because at the sudden change of temperature he was feeling very heated in his snow jacket. He settled the brown bag of groceries on the floor and shrugged off his own jacket, beanie and gloves. He picked the brown bag up again and imagined his hair must have been sticking up at odd ends from the beanie because when he walked past the two of them she caught his left forearm. He paused and in between her saying something to their little boy she smoothed down his hair with her hand, looked up at him, smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

And then he finally understood it all.

It wasn't about the way that she was when he was alone or in the way that she smiled at him or how he felt when he was with her.

It was simply her.

Her being and soul and everything that is her that made her his one just as much as everything of him made him her one.

Their moment didn't quite last as almost as soon as she had kissed him and pulled back, she was being led to the living room by their son. She caught his eye though and he told her quickly, "I love you, Joan."

And then as always she smiled like she always did when she looked at him.

end.