Title: Inlaws and Outlaws

Summary: Watson's permanent dilemma... His thoughts in the prison scene from the first film

Spoilers: For the first film only

I missed Mary.

Holmes was asleep on my shoulder. How on earth he could possibly relax in a place like this was beyond me.

His falling asleep of course, made me uncomfortably tense and vigilant. I wondered if he would have fallen asleep if he were on his own in this place. I suspected not, as I resumed my watchful eye. Sherlock, with his oblivious good looks, casual confident grace, also looked slight enough to be easily overpowered. The graze on his cheek really didn't help matters.

Holmes had taught me observation, and from the moment I walked in, I observed the way they looked at him. If he was aware of it, he ignored it very convincingly.

Falling asleep had made those men stand up straighter, and had made other vultures take notice - those who had a radar for an opportunity to be violent, or to steal someone's possessions, or to overpower them. I was a soldier, and I looked like one. I had a height and build advantage that meant a lot in here. Holmes came awake with a start. He yawned.

He was so relaxed, so laid back about the whole affair, that incredulous irritation started rising within me. I started to wonder what on earth I was doing here. In prison. Prison. The contrast between this and the image in my mind's eye of taking tea with Mary's parents was painfully clear all of a sudden. Was I mad? Why did I do this to myself? Follow around someone who was clearly on the brink of insanity, who wasn't afraid to get us both into trouble and danger - seemed to thrive on it in fact. Why was I, instead of enjoying the company of my beloved Mary, stressing over the welfare of someone who held the welfare and happiness of us both in such casual disregard?

I couldn't hold it in any longer and started what I knew would be an ill-advised rant. We snarked back and forth for a while, until finally I got him to understand the true depth of my frustration and unhappiness.

"But what I really take issue with, I mean, what I really cannot abide, is your campaign to sabotage my relationship with Mary."

There was no pithy remark to this, but silence. I knew the remark had hit home, but was too angry to feel bad about it. Perhaps Holmes would realise now how selfish he was being in trying to keep me from Mary. Perhaps he would even desist.

It wasn't long before my future bride came to bail us out. At least, I thought it was 'us'. Perhaps Holmes was rubbing off on me after all...

It wasn't until almost exiting the prison completely that I realised that Holmes wasn't with me.

"Where's Holmes?" I said.

"I only posted your bail, John. It's his fault you were both in prison in the first place." Mary said.

I felt ice in my veins of a sudden. I remembered vividly the expressions on the faces of the inmates when we'd gone in. The desire, the want. I'd left my best friend alone, in a cage, with two dozen or so vicious criminals who wanted his blood, or his possessions, or his dignity. I walked rapidly back to the bars, heart skipping a beat when I saw a huge crowd gathered where they had been sitting.

Then I heard the crowd laugh...not a malicious laugh, just a laugh, and heard Sherlock's voice confidently leading them in another anecdote.

I released the breath I was holding. Mary had come up beside me.

"John what's the matter?"

"Nothing. I should have known he'd fit right in with this bunch of madmen and scoundrels." I shook my head, amazed as ever to find my friend could still surprise me. So long as there was a problem to solve, Holmes could solve it. It didn't matter if that problem were a case, a fight, or how-to-avoid-being-beaten-to-death-in-jail. I took another breath, watching him to make sure he would definitely be all right before leaving with Mary.

And the worst thing was, after an hour in the company of Mary's very respectable, polite, tidy, sane parents... I missed Holmes.