Disregard the Danger [BBC Sherlock - Johnlock, Warstan & Johnlockary]

Better than wedding planning

Her life is full of things she’s unaccustomed to -- worry and domesticity.

One of her biggest fears is John’s safety. She worries that he won’t come back -- What if he’s hurt? What if he’s kidnapped yet again? What if he dies? He’s not allowed to die. She has to refrain, every time, from reminding him to take his gun and check in regularly.

The hypocrisy of it irritates her. She’d be indignant if John tried to limit her own freedom or keep her safe (not that he knows about any of her unsafe activities, but still). Danger is what keeps them both happy. But she doesn’t like it.

Still, she sends him out with Sherlock and feels grateful as he goes, even as she worries. Because it keeps John distracted while she does work. Doing her job has been ever so much easier since Sherlock returned.

She monitors Magnussen, and sometimes she tails him in foreign cities. She hasn’t had much luck identifying his new contact with the kidnapping skills, but she keeps trying.

Sometimes, John comes home sooner than predicted -- before she does.

Where are you? Are you OK? He texts at 11 P.M.

At Cath’s, she texts from Amsterdam. Remember? She’s ill. Told you I was going to stay over.

Oh. Sorry, I must’ve forgot.

Honestly, John. Sometimes it’s like you don’t even listen! Or like she never told him. Too busy mooning over someone? ;)

Hush, you.

Good case?

Fantastic. Tell you all about it when you get home. Say hi to Cath for me.

Will do. ...xo

He never suspects a thing.

* * *

She has very little success with Magnussen. He’s become more careful over the years -- but more than that, she’s been forced to become more careful. Mycroft has tightened her leash over the course of her time in London, instructing her to stay further away from Magnussen the more they have to risk.

So she sits and watches Magnussen enter and leave buildings through a telephoto lens. And she grits her teeth. And she thinks about John and whether he’s safe.

At home with John, her worries seem less real. Life seems strangely like a sitcom sometimes, she thinks as she prepares breakfast. She hums tunelessly to herself as she clears the table. (She stops humming briefly as she stares at the newspaper -- a major earthquake in South America, unrest in Eastern Europe, and an editorial arguing that Lord Moran -- currently under house arrest as he awaits trial -- was framed. She snorts at that one.) She sets their places as John comes down the stairs.

He kisses her good morning while still in his bathrobe, reaffirming her sense of sitcom, then sits at the table. “C’mere,” John says, patting the chair beside her. “I have something I want to ask you.”

Mary sits down at the table. “Yes, John, I’ll still marry you,” she says cheekily.

John laughs. “Not that. But related. I was wondering -- do you mind if I ask Sherlock to be best man?”

Mary stares at him incredulously. “Well, of course you’re going to. Who else would you ask?”

John shifts uncomfortably. “Well, yeah. But… he’ll have to give a speech.”

“So?”

“Well.” He sighs. “It will be embarrassing, at best. He’ll deduce and air all the guests’ secrets. Or insult everyone. Or possibly just us,” he adds, after a moment’s reflection.