"I don't know, exactly," Watson admitted, equally soft. He stepped close to Holmes and slid his hands around Holmes's middle. "I think, perhaps, it might just be that... well, this has not been my home for years, and this has not been any part of my life for the past three. I wasn't sure that I would be able to step back into it, after so long, after having lived a very different sort of life, and have it fit."

And yet everything was fitting, despite a previous marriage, despite the time on the island, despite having lived alone as a respectable doctor for far too long. He was home.

Watson kissed Holmes, gingerly.