And here it is, the promised sequel to Code Name ^^...

this is the first chapter, the story takes place six years after their marriage... life seemed as good as it could be, remember? Really, could it last forever?

Regarding the updates, I have some chapters ready but it is a WIP. I count on finishing it but I don't know if I'll manage to keep a fixed timetable ^^... bear with me, please ^^.

And let me know what you think!

Their life after the marriage didn't differ a lot from the one before. Joan was now Joan Holmes née Watson, when in mission they shared the bed and not only the room, and they were pretty happy together.

Still, it had been only Joan's insistence to respect traditions that had ensured that they didn't indulge in such activities before the wedding.
After the war, the need for agents was a bit less pressing. Yes, there was the cold war, but Sherlock avoided that kind of work and Joan had started Medicine at University in order to become a doctor. They kept living at 221b Baker Street and Sherlock started solving private cases. They participated in the occasional mission, if Mycroft and Greg asked them very nicely (or, at least as nicely as a Holmes could manage), but they mainly stayed in London. Joan let her hair flow long and wavy in these times, disregarding the severe bun she used to wear before, and Sherlock let her get away with feeding him a bit more often, chuckling from time to time at the mention of aeroplanes.

To the knowledge of their neighbours and acquaintances, they were a normal young couple. They loved each other dearly and it showed even when walking down the street, when Sherlock would take Joan by her arm and stroll with her, maybe while investigating.
They had talked about having children, and had agreed that it was not the right moment. They were both in their late twenties, and feared that their lifestyle would be detrimental to a child. Besides, Joan had just finished Med school and was working at the practice where her old colleague Sarah (one of the nurses she met during the war) worked, they were as happy as they could be and didn't want anything to change.

This was more or less the situation at 221b Baker Street when a phone call on the recently installed landline disrupted their quiet evening in, on October 6th, 1951. Joan took her eyes off the
peach she was stitching (trying to make the stitches as good as possible) and Sherlock abandoned his microscope in favour of answering the phone.

"Holmes residence," he said, voice steady, used to the drill.

"Sherlock? It's Mycroft here. Can you come tomorrow morning at 8 at the Diogenes? I have urgency to speak with you." He said, with a tone that promised nothing good to come.

"Tomorrow at 8?" Joan mouthed to him 'I have a shift tomorrow, go alone and then you'll tell me', "fine, I'll be there. No, Joan has a shift tomorrow morning. No problem. She sends her regards.
Regards to Greg as well." And the phone call was closed.

"Do you think he has a new case for you?" Joan asked, keeping on stitching the peach.

"I fear so. I just hope it's not too boring."

"I just hope it's something quick, I don't really want to be gone from the surgery for long." She retorted. Sherlock shrugged and gave her a quick kiss on her hair before coming back to the microscope.

"Your stitches are already good, why do you keep practicing?"

"Because I can't really see myself embroidering, can you? At least this is useful." Her husband chuckled and Joan stirred and looked at the clock. She put the peach in the fridge to be eaten the following morning (never one to waste food) "It's quite late, I'm going to retire. Are you coming to bed, tonight?" she asked from the kitchen.
Sherlock looked at her. His brother's tone of voice at the phone had mildly unsettled him. He nodded.

"Give me five minutes and I'll be with you, my dear."

"I'll be waiting for you, husband darling." She said, coquettishly raising her eyebrow, and then disappeared in the bathroom.

Sherlock put all his sliders and the microscope away and left to join his wife. They spent the night making love and resting together, next to each other, savouring those moments, because they knew that if Mycroft had needed to call them at such a late hour, their relatively peaceful life was going to be disrupted.