A/N: I own nothing, but am eternally grateful for the genius of ACD and now MG, SM, BC, MF and the BBC crew

The waft of soft fruits and tannins barely registered on her senses as she poured two glasses of cabernet. Glancing repeatedly at the man sat at her ... no, their dining table she chewed her lip and contemplated the situation she found herself in. This could go so badly wrong.

Placing the bottle on the work top, she picked up the glasses and walked to the table. He glanced up and met her eyes as she placed the wine glass before him. There was pain in that glance. They were both terrified of what they might lose.

He looked gaunter than in the few pictures she had seen. There was a silvering scar in his hairline and the trace of a bruise under is right eye. His knuckles showed the scars of several fist fights and perhaps some things that were worse. He seemed full of nervous energy, ready to leap into action at the first sign of danger, his eyes scanning the room, especially the windows and doors even now, even though he had been there for the past hour.

His hand shook slightly as he grasped the wine glass and began to slowly swirl its contents. She continued to watch his face trying to read his thoughts, to compare the reality to the stories.

John would be back with the takeaway in the next fifteen minutes. Her abused lip bled slightly from her agitated gnawing. Now was the time for decisive action.

"So, you're back then?" She struggled to keep the anxiety from her voice.

His eyes met hers and held her gaze. "Yes."

"Permanently?"

"As much as is possible in my line."

She took a slow sip of wine and rubbed her thumb against her engagement ring. He had brought the bottle as a gift – a supplication. It was excellent and probably cost more than any single item in her wardrobe. When he had accepted the gift, John had raised a quizzical eyebrow and said "Mycroft's?" receiving a cheeky nod in reply.

Her eyes remained fixed on her glass and the glint of her ring.

"You nearly destroyed him you know. He blamed himself. He thought he had failed you." She looked at his face to see his reaction.

He looked shocked, then his eyes began to flicker and his expressions changed – ahh, deducing.

"He never failed me. Not once. Not even when I begged him to forsake me, for his own protection."

"Have you told him?"

Guilt and then realisation flashed across his face. "No, I assumed he understood."

She raised her eyebrows in exasperation. 'You're an idiot' was written large in that expression.

"I will tell him." He seemed to shrink a little as he admitted his failing.

Minutes passed as they sat in silence, neither really looking at each other.

"He loves you, you know. I think he always has."

Surprised silence.

"Do you feel the same?"

"Yes." A difficult admission.

Now her shoulders sank in resignation. She could not compete with this.

"No, no. Not how you think, never how you think. Despite speculation there has never been a romantic attachment between us. But I need him. He makes me ... better. This time away has shown me something that I knew ... before, but did not fully appreciate. He truly is my heart and my conductor of light. I cannot function to my full potential without him. I love him more than a brother. He completes me in ways I never knew. He is my other half."

A pause. A sip of wine. A quick flash of eyes to her questioning face.

"But I am not his. He needs more than me."

His eyes locked on hers and she began to understand.

She knows her fiancé so well. Has known him longer than the man sat before her. But has she held his heart for longer? She is certain she has not, and certainly never all of it.

"He needs you."

"I believe so, but he needs you too. You provide so much that I cannot. "

Tension began to ease from her shoulders as hope grew again in her heart.

"I can never thank you enough for what you have done for him while I was away. You have kept him safe. I could not have born returning to discover him gone."

"I did not save him for you."

"No, but still, I am grateful. You are truly a blessing Mary Morstan."

Another swirl of the wine glass, another sip and a decision is made.

"If we do this right we can make this work. We can all have what we want."

His eyes dart to her determined face. Now he too has hope.

"You cannot do what you used to do with his dates. Family time is sacrosanct, and you only call when you need him, not when you are feeling bored or lazy."

A twitch of the lips and a flash of humour in his eyes.

"Oh yes, I know all about you calling him halfway across London just to hand you a pen." Her lips twitch with humour at the memory of John's many stories.

"Agreed."

"And you will do whatever he asks of you. You need to make this right. The final decision is his as are the final rules."

"Agreed. Anything."

"And I agree to not be unreasonable about him working cases with you IF that is what he wants. I know you will do your best to keep him safe. We both have too much to lose if you fail."

"You know I will do everything in my power to ensure his wellbeing."

"Good."

"Do you want me to stay away from here? To keep The Work isolated from his real life?"

"Sherlock, you are part of his real life." She smiled gently at the scarred man opposite her who suddenly looked like a timid child. "You will always be welcome here. You are more than a brother to him, and I hope that you can extend that feeling to me. I want us to be a family, as it should be."

For the first time since he had been introduced to Mary, Sherlock genuinely smiled.

"I would like that very much. There are few women I can tolerate for any length of time, but I suspect that you, Mary, are one of them. You are surprising and quite remarkable."

"Why thank you Mr Holmes."

Two nearly empty wine glasses were chinked together and smiles were exchanged.

"For him."

"Always for him."

A key in the lock and the waft of Chinese takeaway heralded the return of John Watson to his home.

A worried glance soon morphed into a brilliant if slightly bemused grin. There was nothing destroyed, no blood on the carpet, and the two most important people in his life were smiling at each other.

" Good, good. It's all fine. What did I miss?"