Take care of those you call your own, and keep good company...

[lightconductor]

It had been a long, if not unrewarding day. Now, though, Watson was glad to relax in the comfort of familiar surroundings. There was something perfect about the cosiness of their rooms, the crackle and warmth of the fire, the scent of dinner and brandy and tobacco smoke. It was home, and it was far more perfect than he felt he had any right to claim.

He was stretched out on the sofa, comfortably full, with a novel propped up on his chest while he rested his head in Holmes's lap. The position was comfortable, intimate, and while in part he worried that it was... unmanly, unbecoming, unduly effeminate... it felt strangely safe, and he was grateful for the warmth of the thigh beneath his head.

Comments

[theyarder]

There's a dizzingly confusing couple of seconds in which Lestrade thinks that Mary is going to tell him that she actually prefers women to men and that their marriage will be something of a sham. When she doesn't say that, his mind needs a second to catch up to what she's trying to tell him, and he blinks, taking it all in.

"So you've... known someone before," he says, just to make sure he's on the right page here. "A man, I hope," he adds, frowning a little.

[missmorstan.livejournal.com]

"I have." Mary was finding it difficult to meet Lestrade's eyes. "And yes, a man. I'm... I'm sorry, I should have told you before now, but it never seemed to be the right time to do so."

She looked sideways at him, worried. Some men would not much like the idea of marrying a woman who was not virginal and pure. She hoped Lestrade was better than that.

[theyarder]

Lestrade's suspected for some time that he's just not a very conservative man. He thinks it has a lot to do with his line of work -- that he sees the terrible things people do to each other, he sees the kinds of people that shuffle through his door, and then things like having relations with a man (whether you yourself are a man or a woman) just start to pale in comparison. In the bigger picture of life, there's more to hate yourself for than that.

He reaches up to his hair and rubs a hand over it, considering this. Maybe it changes his perception of Mary a little bit, but as he presses his lips together and thinks about it, does it really change his opinion of her for the worst? She's sweet, and good, and feisty, and she barely bats an eye at his homosexual best friends. Isn't that the kind of woman he'd rather have around him?

"Okay," he says finally, nodding. "Alright." Thinking suddenly, he frowns at her in a very businesslike way, but he squeezes her hand again with tenderness. "Have you got any children I should know about? I'd rather not have any secrets between us. Far too often secrets send marriages to a disastrous end, and I don't want that for us, you understand."

[missmorstan.livejournal.com]

Letting out an exhalation, a huge sigh of relief, Mary managed a small -- very small -- laugh. "No, no children. In fact, I think that might be all the secrets I have, off the top of my head. At least, there are no more of any note."

Her smile was warm, grateful. "Thank you," she murmured.

[theyarder]

Leaning in, he kisses her softly, smiling against her lips, before he draws away again. "Well, let's see here. I'm no virgin either," he says with a wry tilt of his eyebrow. "I hope that's alright by you. No children, so far as I've been told."

Turning to her, he smiles again. "I love you, you know. Seems like I love you a little more all the time, each time you show me how," he pauses, searching for the word, and he comes up laughing, "bohemian you are."

[missmorstan.livejournal.com]

"I love you too," Mary murmured. "And I think I can forgive you for your past lovers, if you can forgive me mine."

She gave another laugh, trying to resist the urge to kiss him again, more enthusiastically, even if they were in a cab. "Don't say I'm bohemian around Mrs. Forrester, if you please. I'd rather resign than be dismissed for unladylike behaviour." Her eyes twinkled.

[theyarder]

"'Course not, love. Secrets from other people are more than okay," he says, laughing with her. It's so disappointing to think that he'll have to deliver her to her home soon, that he can't just take her home with him where she clearly belongs. Feeling a surge of affection, he leans over and kisses her more soundly, lightly cupping the side of her neck gently.

[missmorstan.livejournal.com]

She kissed him gladly, feeling frustrated and suddenly impatient for their wedding. Lately, the Forresters' had felt a good deal less like home -- not that she was unwelcome, but that she belonged there less.

And Mary had a feeling that she belonged wherever Lestrade was.

"I think, with all these secrets being aired, we're off to a good start," she murmured.

[theyarder]

"I have to agree," he says with a small smile, and he puts his forehead to hers briefly. They approach the Forresters', and a wave of disappointment washes over him. Soon, he tells himself, soon he'll get to just go home with her and flop in front of the fire and then wake up with her the next morning. It's that he's looking forward to the most, more than anything.