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.

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[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.