A/N: Late late late and short. Sorry my loves. I won't be home until Monday, and the place I'm going to does not have any wifi. I'm already working on the next chapter so it should *hopefully* be up Monday night.

Reviews and favorites are very much appreciated!

When Mary does return home, she doesn't freak out. She simply stares Sherlock up and down with a small frown before saying, "You're Sherlock Holmes. I thought you were dead." She then shoots John a look saying 'You have a lot of explaining to do, John Hamish Watson.' So, after tea is made, the three sit in the living room and Sherlock goes through what happened. He's surprised that she seems to follow most of it. She doesn't ask too many questions, and when she does John's the one to clarify. It's apparent that he's told her about all of this, well all leading up to the suicide.

Once it's all over for the second time, they sit in what's supposed to be a comfortable silence. Sherlock deduces everything he can about her. From what she did as a child to what she does now, he tries to gather everything he can. It only takes him a minute, and he already doesn't like her. He doesn't understand why he doesn't like her, but he doesn't. There's something about the way she looks at John that irks him. He feels the need to scare her off like he's done with the other girlfriends, but something holds him back, what?

John shoots a glance at Sherlock, and knows in an instant that he doesn't like Mary. He just gets this look on his face that lets him know, and John feels dread well up in him. The last thing he needs is for Sherlock to cause drama. If he knows what's good for him, the detective won't because John loves Mary. He really does. She's beautiful and kind and everything he's looked for in a woman. However, he also loves Sherlock. But he can't let him mess everything up because he's back.

Mary snaps both men out of there thoughts by clearing her throat. "I'm guessing you both are famished. John, you went to Tescos, right?" The blond male nods and she rises from her seat, giving them both a soft smile. "Wonderful. I'll go get everything started so you two have a bit to catch up." She leaves the room, the awkward tension following.

The two men don't say anything right away, but at least the silence is a bit more comfortable. That is, until John breaks it. "So, where will you be staying?"

"Back to our old flat. Where else?"

John shrugs and takes a sip of his now cold tea. "I don't know. I thought she would have rented it out by now…"

This makes Sherlock snort. "She's tried renting it out, but you've only left a few months ago, John. It can't go that quickly-"

"Especially with the damages you've caused there." John interrupts with a light chuckle. Reluctantly, Sherlock smiles. "Does she know you're alive yet?"

"No, not yet. You're the first person I've told besides those who already knew beforehand." He pauses and tilts his head in thought. "I'll have to be far more careful with her, though. She isn't quite as strong with you."

John sighs and nods his head. "She was almost as upset as I was when you died, you know. All she talked about for the first couple of weeks was you and every time she cried. I'm sure she'll understand, but you need to be wary of her. She may have her moments but she's still a bit fragile at this age."

Sherlock sighs and shoots a glare at John. Instead of glaring back, John just smiles because he knows how annoyed Sherlock gets when he points out the obvious. It's been three years though; it'll be a bit tough to get back into routine.

It's not too much longer before Mary comes back and announces that dinner is ready. They join her at the table, which has been set for the three of them. Sherlock takes a seat in the chair that hasn't been used, which is across from where John sits. Mary and John begin to eat, but Sherlock just sits.

Mary looks up at him and frowns. "I'm sorry. Do you not like spaghetti?"

"No, Sherlock just doesn't eat," John interjects with a grin. "He's never really been one for eating, even after coming back from the dead, it seems."

Sherlock grimaces to himself and takes a drink of the wine she's poured for all three of them. It's not what he's used to, but what's he to expect? "Digestion slows down the processing of my brain. The last thing I need is to be slowed down right now." He mutters.

The dinner conversation pretty much ends there, and once it's over with Sherlock decides that it's time for him to go. The discomfort is obvious on John's face, and no one can really blame him. His best friend has just come back from the dead, and he leaving, even for one night, is a bit unbearable. He's terrified that he won't come back. It's a bit silly, but the thought probes his mind as the two say their goodbyes.

Sherlock seems to pick up on it for he announces that he will be back tomorrow. It's an assurance to both John and himself. When John immediately accepts, Sherlock knows that he's been forgiven, even if it's just a little. Mary seems supportive of it (though Sherlock really wouldn't care if she didn't), so it makes John all the more willing.

Both don't say a thing about it, but they're excited. John can hardly sleep that night, and Sherlock doesn't. For them, tomorrow cannot come fast enough.