So I'm not going to lie; I am really proud of this fic. Before series three finally showed up, a part of me was worried that it would be kind of impossible to ship Johnlock so hard with Mary in the way. But boy, was I wrong. If anything, I have never shipped Johnlock harder. I have a genuine OT3 now that I properly ship for the feels and everything instead of just for the smut. Sherlock and Mary are total bros, and Sherlock and John's love for each other – which is equal to the love that John and Mary have for each other and they're married, for fuck sake – is now so canon I want to punch a thing. I mean, Mary and Sherlock are basically both married to John now. What a time to be alive.

I have been an emotional wreck since I first watched The Sign of Three because of that absolute love letter of a best man's speech, although this fic is set before the wedding and it's basically just filth so whatever. Also, although I've written a ton of threesomes, this is actually my first Sherlock threesome so yay go me. I'm just glad I finished this before His Last Vow aired because I think we can all agree that something terrible is going to happen and this fic is way too happy to be published right after a trauma like that so here we are.

Anyways, chuck some reviews at me. Your comments keep me going.

And I own absolutely nothing, otherwise this probably would have actually happened on the show and I could never get this passed the BBC sensors.

Just a Suggestion

"Are you serious? Please tell me you're not being serious."

"Oh, come on, John. Like you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!"

"Lies."

"I'm not lying!"

"Yeah, well, I've thought about it. A lot. And I just think that it wouldn't hurt to ask."

"It wouldn't hurt to ask?!"

John sighed in exasperation. He'd just finished brushing his teeth as they got ready for bed, when Mary had suddenly brought up the subject that had left him thunderstruck. He hadn't even put his toothbrush down before he was back in their bedroom, staring at his fiancée as if she'd gone insane. Mary simply smiled as she sat cross-legged on the bed in her pyjamas.

"Think of it as an early wedding present," she said cheerfully. "We're about to become a fusty old married couple, we may as well spice things up while we still can."

"Look, I understand wanting to spice things up," said John, trying to get his head around this. "But a threesome... with Sherlock. Really?"

"It's just a suggestion," said Mary, shrugging. "I've been thinking about it ever since you told me the story of the One Drunken Night."

"I wish I'd never told you that," John grumbled. "And stop giving it a title..."

"But it's my favourite story, it deserves to be properly titled!"

John rolled his eyes and turned back to the bathroom to finally put his toothbrush away.

"Oh tell it again, love," Mary giggled, bouncing a little bit where she sat. "Actually no, wait, let me tell it! Once upon a time a beautiful ex-army doctor named John Watson managed to convince his fine-looking best friend, the one and only consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, to go the Scotland Yard Christmas party. And in order to make it more bearable, they decided to both get roaring drunk."

"Mary, please stop talking," John called from the bathroom, cringing at the memory.

Mary spoke slightly louder. "They piled into a cab at the end of the night, tipsy and giggling, when all of a sudden the two gorgeous men were snogging each other's faces off in the backseat."

"Okay, I get it," John groaned. "You can stop now."

Mary continued happily. "Once they got back to Baker Street, they stumbled up to their flat and fell into Mr. Holmes bed, where they had wild, drunken, rampant sex all night. Although you still won't tell me who was the top and who was the bottom..."

"I shouldn't have told you any of this in the first place! And I did not use the words 'wild' or 'rampant'"

"Anyway, when the two handsome gentlemen woke up the next morning, awkward and hungover, they decided to pretend that their night of passionate lovemaking had never happened in order to spare Dr. Watson's blushes and preserve their heart-warming friendship. The end."

John came out of the bathroom and slumped onto his side of the bed, frowning at his fiancée. "Finished?"

"Quite," said Mary, grinning mischievously.

"Hang on," said John. "I told you that story ages ago... before Sherlock came back. You've been thinking about this silly threesome idea since then?"

"Well, not exactly," said Mary reasonably. "I, like you, thought Sherlock was dead. But now he's not, and you've gotten all the yelling and punching out of your system, so we might as well ask. It's just a suggestion, love."

John shook his head at Mary, smiling in spite of himself. "Remind me again why I'm marrying you."

Mary grinned, quickly straddling John's lap and kissing him hard on the lips. "Because I'm the best thing that ever happened you."

"Yeah, you are," said John with a smile, wrapping his arms around his fiancée.

"Well, joint first place with Sherlock. After all, he did get to shag you before me."

Mary laughed loudly as John shoved her off his lap with a huff.

After work the next day, John decided to pay Sherlock a visit. He knew Sherlock didn't have a case at the moment, and was probably conducting an experiment that involved body parts and flammable substances just to keep his mind occupied. So John was surprised, to say the least, to find Sherlock sitting in his leather armchair as if expecting him, and Mary sitting in the armchair opposite looking immensely pleased with herself.

"What are you doing here?" he said to Mary, sounding more accusatory than he meant to.

"Mary and I were just having a chat," said Sherlock with a smirk and an arched eyebrow. "About her little... suggestion."

"Oh God," John groaned, feeling himself begin to blush as he rolled his eyes at his fiancée. "You didn't..."

"Oh, I did," said Mary. "I knew you'd never be able to bring up such a touchy subject, so I thought I'd do it for you. As I said last night, it couldn't hurt to ask."

"And, erm," John muttered, struggling to find the words as he looked at Sherlock. "What was, er... the answer?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he stared at John, his smirk becoming more pronounced. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"I'd be delighted."

"Wait – really?"

"The man said yes, John," Mary chuckled, standing up and giving her fiancé a kiss on the cheek. "Best wedding present ever."

Sherlock got to his feet suddenly, striding towards the thoroughly dumbfounded John, taking the doctor's face in his large hands and giving him a slow and very passionate kiss on the lips. John's knees trembled and his brain seemed to short-circuit. Once they separated he simply blinked rather dumbly, Sherlock's hands cupping his face pretty much the only thing stopping him falling over from the shock of it. He'd forgotten what a surprisingly brilliant kisser Sherlock was.

"This is going to be amazing, I can already tell," said Mary, watching them happily.

"Wait," said John, snapping out of the trance Sherlock's kiss had put him in. "We're doing this right now?"

"Oh no," said Mary. "We have it all planned out. Sherlock and I are going to have to loosen you up a little bit, love. Just like in the One Drunken Night."

"That was a good night," Sherlock commented.

"So I've heard."

"And you tell the story very well, Mary."

"I know."

The way to loosen John up turned out be with alcohol – copious and very precisely measured amounts of alcohol. Sherlock drank very little himself, preferring to observe as John and Mary got nice and tipsy and John's inhibitions were all but lost. They all sat together on the sofa as the sun set outside, John quite comfortably in the middle.

"Tell me the story again, love," said Mary with a slight slur in her voice. "The One Drunken Night."

"I already told you!" John giggled, swaying where he sat.

"But with more detail this time!" Mary laughed. "You were so vague and embarrassed when you told me, and I honestly don't know why. I mean, if it had been me, I'd tell anyone who'd listen! It's not like there are many people who can say they've slept with Sherlock Holmes... no offence."

"None taken," said Sherlock, a lot more intoxicated than he was letting on. "John was actually the third sexual experience I've had in my life."

"Oh wow," Mary scoffed. "That's... two more sexual experiences than I thought you'd had. Care to divulge?"

"The first two were purely experimental," said Sherlock, stretching out on the sofa and resting his legs on John's lap. "It was at Uni. I was collecting data to see what my sexual preferences were, if I had any at all. One woman and one man, I've deleted their names to make room for more important information."

Mary rested her head on John's shoulder, listening avidly. "And what were the results of this little experiment?"

"The sex was enjoyable," said Sherlock, his hands a steeple under his chin. "With both the woman and the man. But it was all far too much trouble, and they were both a lot clingier than I thought they would be, considering that I had deduced that they were only looking for one night stands. It was only an experiment after all. I had more important things to be doing then trying to find a sexual partner."

"Married to your work," muttered John, nodding slowly.

"Exactly."

"So was the One Drunken Night with our John just an experiment then?" asked Mary.

Sherlock smirked at her, arching an eyebrow. "Of course not. That particular night was a long time coming. The only reason it happened just the once was because, as I'm sure you're well aware, John is not nearly as comfortable with his bisexuality as I am."

"And," said Mary, squeezing Sherlock's leg and grinning. "You boys didn't have me to shove you both together."

"Yes, that too," Sherlock smiled. "But back to the subject. You wanted to know more details about the night John and I spent together."

"Yes!" Mary practically squealed. "Tell me everything! Everything that will make John blush!"

John chuckled and shook his head as he finished his drink. "Oh God..."

"Doesn't take much to make John blush, but okay," said Sherlock, stretching himself out on the sofa more until his bare feet were up against Mary's thigh. "I wasn't quite as inebriated as John was, so I remember a lot more of it than he probably does, but some parts are still a bit fuzzy. We were in the cab after that God awful Christmas party. Not sure exactly what happened, but I'd humiliated Anderson somehow and John and I were laughing about it in the cab. I hadn't laughed so hard in ages, it was brilliant. Before I knew it, we were kissing. Not sure who started it, I think it just happened. As I said, it was a long time coming for the both of us, however much John refuses to admit it."

"Yeah, yeah..." John scoffed.

Mary shushed him and gestured to Sherlock to continue.

"Anyway," said Sherlock. "We got back to the flat. We could barely walk in a straight line, we were pretty much holding each other up. Of course, it didn't help that John could barely keep his hands off me..."

"I know right, John's such a handsy drunk!" Mary exclaimed. "Sorry, you carry on."

"So then," Sherlock continued. "We somehow managed to make our way to my bedroom, as it was the closest. We started undressing each other the moment we stepped into the living room though, so we were already in our underwear by the time we got to my room. It was all a bit of a magnificent blur of hands and mouths after that."

"Just answer me one question, Sherlock," Mary slurred, leaning over John to get closer. "The one question that I've just been just dying to know the answer to ever since John told me about the two of you; who was the top and who was the bottom?"

Sherlock smirked smugly. "I was the top. And John was the grateful, and some might say whorish bottom."

"I knew it!" Mary practically cheered, laughing loudly. "I fucking knew it!"

"Whorish?!" said John, hitting Sherlock in the stomach and making him chuckle. "I was not whorish!"

"Please," said Sherlock, rolling his eyes. "You were begging for it."

"Oh, I bet he was!"

"I wasn't begging! I didn't beg!"

"You begged, John Watson," Sherlock whispered teasingly, sitting up and straddling John's lap. "You were begging me to fuck you. And when I did you loved it."

"Yeah, okay, I may have begged a little bit," said John, his voice shaking slightly as Sherlock stroked his hair and rocked on his lap. "But that was only because you were a bloody tease."

"I didn't hear you complaining," said Sherlock with a devious smirk.

"I'm pretty sure I complained a bit," said John.

"In my defence, it was a lot of fun."

"Cock-teasing bastard, is what you are."

"Guilty."

"I could listen to you boys flirt forever," said Mary, sitting back slightly so she could get a good look at them both. "But I'd much rather watch. I mostly want to watch you two at it."

Sherlock grinned. "Well, we better put on a show for you then. Shouldn't we, Dr. Watson?"

John could barely respond before Sherlock was kissing him again, deep and passionate and fierce. Mary could hardly wipe the smile off her face as the two men moaned into each other's mouths, Sherlock grabbing handfuls of John's hair as John squeezed and caressed Sherlock's thighs. The dim lighting made them both look particularly stunning; Mary felt like she was watching a scene from a very tasteful erotic film. Their lips finally separated when Sherlock pulled John's jumper over his head and threw it over his shoulder, kissing the doctor's neck as his skilful, slender fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt. John groaned and threw his head back as Sherlock sucked a love bite onto the spot on his neck that always made him shiver, his growing erection twitching in his trousers.

"How are you st-still so... good at this?" John stammered.

Sherlock smiled against John's skin, pushing open his shirt to touch his bare chest. "I remember what you like, John. I didn't delete a single second of our one night together. I have a whole room in my mind palace for you."

Mary chuckled, running her fingers through John's hair as Sherlock kissed down John's chest. "A normal fiancée would probably be feeling really jealous after a statement like that... but I'm not normal."

John smiled and pulled Mary into a kiss, as Sherlock slid down onto his knees between John's legs. He nuzzled John's clothed erection, before slowly unbuckling the belt and unzipping the jeans, nudging John until he lifted up his hips so he could pull the jeans and boxers down. Sherlock smiled at the sight of John's thick erection springing free from his underwear, the crown already wet with drops of pre-come.

He looked up to find John and Mary looking down at him, Mary excited and John breathless. With a small smile, Sherlock lowered his head and, without taking his eyes off John's, dragged his tongue up John's cock from base to tip, painfully slow, before sucking the crown into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the slit to lap up the hot pre-come. John made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a groan, thrusting up into Sherlock's mouth before he could stop himself as his hands balled into fists. Sherlock didn't take his eyes off of John, observing every detail of his reaction as he relaxed his throat and took every inch of John's length into his mouth, sucking hard and swirling his tongue.

"Wow..." Mary whispered in awe.

Sherlock took John's hand and placed it on the back of his head, and John immediately laced his fingers into the dark curls and tugged gently. Sherlock moaned around the cock filling his mouth – it had been such a long time since his last sexual encounter that he had forgotten exactly how pleasurable having his hair pulled felt – and began to bob his head up and down with increasing speed, caressing John's thighs and cupping his balls. John thrust up into the wet heat, fucking Sherlock's mouth as Mary watched avidly beside him, stroking his hair as she watched her fiancé's cock disappearing in and out of his best friend's mouth.

"God, Sherlock," she said, slightly out of breath with arousal. "You are so good at that. Do you even have a gag reflex?"

Sherlock glanced over at Mary and arched an eyebrow in amusement, before looking back at John. He loved the sight of John like this, had missed it even. When he was alone, without a case or an experiment to distract him, Sherlock would sometimes use the images he had stored up in his memory of John the first time they had had sex to keep himself occupied. So as he pleasured John now, Sherlock catalogued absolutely everything; the flush of John's cheeks, the noises he made, the way he would only steal the occasionally desperate glance down at Sherlock before squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back, the feel of John's fingers tugging deliciously on his hair, the twitching and swelling of John's cock as it filled his mouth, the taste of him, the smell of him, everything.

John was close, unbearably close, and common courtesy would be to warn Sherlock but he just couldn't get the words out. It didn't matter though, as Sherlock only had to look at his face. He took John's cock even deeper into his mouth, right down his throat, swallowing around him until John came with a deep growl, his entire body shuddering with the force of it. Sherlock swallowed every drop of come, savouring the taste as he licked John clean.

"I feel like I should applaud," said Mary, fanning herself and squeezing her thighs together.

John chuckled as he tried to catch his breath, clumsily pulling up his pants. Sherlock sat back on his heels, taking in Mary's aroused state with a satisfied smirk.

"Your turn," he said with a purr in his voice that made Mary shiver.

He shuffled over to her, kneeling between her legs. Mary took Sherlock's face in her hands and kissed him passionately, nibbling on his bottom lip, and Sherlock kissed her back just as deeply. He ran his hands over as much of her body as he could reach from his position, gauging her reaction and quickly finding the spots that made her moan into his mouth – she had particularly sensitive breasts and, oddly, the back of her knees. He kissed down her neck and her collarbone, his hands slipping up her skirt to pull off her knickers. John watched transfixed as Sherlock pushed Mary's skirt up and his head dipped between her legs, his erection already twitching back to life.

Sherlock pulled Mary forward until she was sat on the very edge of the sofa, spreading her legs and kissing down her thigh. He kept this up, kissing up and down Mary's inner thighs but avoiding where she really wanted him, until she was writhing in frustration.

"Oh, for fuck sake, Sherlock," she groaned. "You really are a fucking tease..."

"Told you so," John chuckled.

Sherlock grinned innocently, before finally lowering his head and dragging his tongue up her slit, toying with her clit as he hooked her legs up over his shoulders. Mary cried out in pleasure, trembling as Sherlock lapped at her cunt, his tongue delving deeper and deeper into her folds. She grabbed onto the back of his head with both hands as he sucked on her clit, quickly flicking his tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves, and she let out an even louder moan once he pushed two fingers inside her.

"Oh my God... oh, Sherlock," she rambled into between moans and gasps." Oh God, you're so... ohhh... oh fuck... so... so..."

"Amazing?" John offered, stroking her thigh.

Mary nodded speechlessly, rolling her hips into Sherlock's face as he licked and sucked her clit and pushed his fingers in and out of her faster and faster.

"He has a very talented mouth, doesn't he?" John whispered as he kissed Mary's neck. "And he's pretty great with his fingers too."

"Mmm, oh yes..." Mary whimpered, right on the precipice of her orgasm.

Sherlock curled his fingers as he fucked Mary with them, speeding up the flicks of his tongue against her swollen clit until, with a scream that was muffled against the back of her hand, Mary came harder than she had in a long time, covering Sherlock's chin and hand with her wetness until she collapsed, exhausted against the sofa.

Sherlock sat back on his heels once more, sucking his wet fingers clean as he admired his handiwork. John and Mary both looked thoroughly shagged, flushed and sweaty and sleepy, John's shirt still open and Mary's skirt pushed up passed her hips. Sherlock adjusted the neglected erection currently straining against his trousers.

"Don't get too comfortable, you two," he said, his voice deep and husky and his eyes blown out with lust. "I'm not done with either of you yet."

John smirked, already hard again after watching his fiancée come so hard. "Bedroom?"

"Yes," said Sherlock, getting to his feet.

"Definitely," said Mary, trying to stand on her shaky legs.

John stood too, awkwardly holding his trousers up with one hand as Sherlock led the way to his bedroom. He was just about to quickly undress himself when Mary suddenly slapped his hands away.

"As if I'm going to let you have all the fun," she said, John shutting the door behind them and slipping out of his open shirt.

Mary pushed Sherlock's dressing gown off his shoulders and onto the floor, making slow and steady work of unbutton his tight shirt and letting it drop to the floor too. She pushed Sherlock back until he was sat on the edge of the bed and, after lifting her shirt over her head and throwing it aside, she straddled Sherlock's lap. John sat beside them, running his fingers through Sherlock's curls and pulling him into an adoring kiss as Mary let her mouth travel down Sherlock's pale neck, kissing and nibbling. Sherlock wished he had an extra pair of hands just so he could touch them both properly, give John and Mary the attention they both deserved. John sighed into Sherlock's mouth, savouring the taste of Mary that still lingered on the detective's lips. Mary dragged up tongue up Sherlock's neck and sucked his earlobe into her mouth, before whispering into his ear.

"I need to watch you fuck him, Sherlock. I need to watch you fuck John like you did the first time. I need you to make him beg for it."

Sherlock chuckled against John mouth, turning his head to kiss Mary and reply "With pleasure."

Mary smiled, taking the back of Sherlock's and John's head and pulling them both into a messy three-way kiss, all teeth and tongues and ecstatic moans. Mary pulled back, letting the two men continue to kiss feverishly, and got off Sherlock's lap, shedding the rest of her clothes as she crawled to the other side of the bed so she could sit back and watch the show. Sherlock and John moved back until they were lying on the bed, John dragging Sherlock down on top of him. Their kiss didn't break until Sherlock pulled back, chuckled slightly as John whined and chased his lips, and pulled off John's jeans and boxers in one quick move. Then he got to work taking off his own trousers, taking his time as he knew he had the full attention of his little audience. Once he was fully naked Mary couldn't help but let out a little gasp – Sherlock's naked body was beautiful, long and lean and surprisingly muscular, a bead of pre-come dripping down his long, hard, swollen cock which curved upwards against his stomach and made Mary's mouth water.

"Mary," Sherlock suddenly said, his eyes never leaving John. "There's a bottle of lubricant in the drawer just beside you."

"Oh... right," she mumbled, snapping out of it and fetching the lube for him.

He took the lube from her and uncapped it, John spreading his legs in anticipation, his mind swimming with the memory of how amazing it had felt to be penetrated. Sherlock poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, smearing the cool liquid onto John's hole and making him hiss. John squirmed wantonly on the bed, and let out the loudest moan when Sherlock lowered his head and dragged his tongue over his hole. Sherlock lapped wetly at John's opening, lifting his legs up against his stomach to opening him up even wider and breach the tight ring of muscles with the tip of his tongue. John was a breathless, incoherent mess already, Sherlock fucking him with his tongue and then suddenly with his fingers – just one fingers stroking his prostate, then two fingers scissoring and twisting and curling, and then three fingers thrusting in and out fast, Sherlock's tongue still licking around the rim. John was desperate, pre-come leaking all over his stomach, his pride be damned.

"Oh God, Sherlock, please," he begged. "Please... please, Sherlock... Jesus... oh God, please..."

Sherlock pressed his lips to John's inner thigh, sucking a deep red love bite onto the sensitive skin as his fingers slowed down. "What do you want, John? Tell me what you want."

"F-fuck me," John stuttered. "Please... please, fuck me, Sherlock... please... fuck me..."

"That's what we wanted to hear," said Sherlock, with a sideways smirk at Mary.

He removed his fingers carefully, John whimpering at the loss, and poured more lube onto his hand to slick up his cock, groaning at his own touch. Sherlock positioned himself between John's legs, kissing his best friend deeply as he pushed himself slowly into his opening, both of them gasping into each other's mouths until Sherlock was completely balls-deep inside John. They stayed still for a second, just holding each other and breathing deeply, John getting used to the intrusion and Sherlock trying to compose himself so he wouldn't come immediately.

Eventually, Sherlock hooked his hands around John's thighs to spread his legs wide, pulling out of him slowly and then pushing back in with a force that made John cry out and cling to Sherlock's shoulders. Mary groaned beside them, her hand slipping between her legs to rub her clit in slow circles.

"Fuck him, Sherlock," she said, her voice a deep whisper. "Don't start slow. Make our John scream."

"As you wish," said Sherlock.

He did as he was told immediately, watching John's face as he pounded into him hard and fast until the bed shook underneath them. John grabbed at the headboard, at the bed sheets, dragged his fingernails down Sherlock's back, unable to do anything other than moan and curse as he met Sherlock's hard thrusts. He had missed this so much more than he was willing to admit aloud, had missed Sherlock's weight on top of him and Sherlock's deep, baritone growls of pleasure and Sherlock's cock filling him up so perfectly, hitting his prostate every time with pinpoint accuracy and Sherlock, oh God, he had missed being fucked by Sherlock so much, why had they only ever done this once, why only one night when there could have been so much more, more, oh God please more...

Mary could hardly breathe as she watched, afraid to blink in case she missed a single second. They looked so beautiful together, the sexiest damn thing she had ever seen, moaning and grunting against each other, moving feverishly as if they had been desperate for this for years. She had never seen John so strung out, had never heard the noises that Sherlock was drawing out of him, had never seen John so needy and downright... whorish. And she wasn't the least bit jealous that she could never do this to John, because she had never been more aroused in her life. John had never looked more gorgeous, and she had never been wetter. Eventually, after touching herself and watching for as long as she could, John threw his head back with a scream and Mary just couldn't take it anymore.

She crawled on top of John, kissing his swollen lips and his flushed face and his sweaty neck. Sherlock stopped his movements as Mary sat up, shifting backwards until her back was pressed against Sherlock's chest. She took John's cock in her hand and held it steady as she sank down onto him, his soaking wet cunt enveloping his member until she was completely impaled. Sherlock wrapped an arm around Mary as she breathed heavily, leaning back against his shoulder and turning her head so they could share a slow, sensual kiss.

John was seeing stars once they all started to move again, so full of Sherlock and squeezed tight inside Mary. All three of them were already impossibly close but wanted so badly to make it last. Sherlock thrust hard into John, an arm curled around Mary so his fingers could rub her clit in quick circles while his other hand held tightly onto John's thigh. Mary bounced up and down on John's cock, riding him with all her might, one hand braced against his chest and the other behind her head, tangled in Sherlock's hair and pulling. John held onto Mary's hips so tightly that there would probably be bruises later, thrusting up into her while pushing back against Sherlock, completely unaware of just how loudly he was moaning.

They came almost all at once, barely seconds apart from each other, John and Mary both crying out while Sherlock muffled his own yell against Mary's neck. They rode out their orgasms messily and erratically, shuddering against each other, until they all collapsed onto the bed, nothing more than a sweaty tangle of limbs.

It was a while before anyone had the energy to move or speak, but eventually Sherlock mustered up the strength to at least cover them all with the duvet. They'd all be an uncomfortably sticky mess tomorrow morning but they were all too sated and exhausted to care. Sherlock curled up beside John, his face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, and Mary was on John's other side, her head resting on his chest.

"You should tag along on our honeymoon, Sherlock," said Mary, finally breaking the silence.

They all chuckled sleepily.

"That might be a bit difficult to explain," said John, struggling to stay awake.

"I could just tell everyone I'm on a case," said Sherlock. "Although maybe not the sort of case you could write up for the blog."

"I don't know," John joked. "Imagine the popularity boost the blog would get after a post like that."

"You could call it the Case of the Excellent Suggestion."

"Another very good title, Mary."

"Thank you, Sherlock."

John laughed softly as he started to doze off, and Sherlock and Mary both held John – their John – a little bit closer as they too drifted off to sleep.

Hope you enjoyed all the smut, Humble Readers.

If you did, please tell me so in review format. If you didn't, please spare my feels but not telling me at all.

xxx