Mary groggily opened her eyes, unsure for a moment what had woken her. John - arm still holding her nude body close against his own - stirred slightly in his sleep, and she wondered for a second if his tossing and turning had pulled her from her dreamless slumber. However, she quickly ruled that out. She was used to his restlessness, it shouldn't have woken her out of such an exhausted sleep, especially after she and John had so exuberantly consummated their marriage just a few hours ago. Something like that shouldn't have even made her stir. In fact, now that she had a "normal" life, there were very few things that would wake her instantly from a slumber.
The click of a lock being picked from the other room was one of the few things left on that list.
Mary tensed at the sound, the words from one of the telegrams that Sherlock had read at the wedding coming unbidden to her mind - "Wish the family could have been there to see this" - signed from Cam. Or, more accurately, C.A.M.
Charles Augustus Magnussen.
Feeling almost sick, Mary worked at the silk sheets, gently edging her way out from under John's arm. If she could get to her or her husband's gun before the intruder made it to the bedroom...
But her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a whispered "John!" from down the hall.
All but laughing in relief, Mary allowed herself to fall back against the pillows, pulling the sheets securely up over her chest.
Sherlock bloody Holmes had come to scare her half to death.
The door to the bedroom creaked open a second later, and a familiar head of messy dark curls poked into the room.
"John?"
"Shhh," Mary whispered with a smile, "He's sleeping, the dear. He had a rather long night."
"Ah. Right. Wedding night. Sorry." Sherlock mumbled in rapid-fire, his eyes scanning the furthermost corners of the room.
Mary giggled quietly, patting the mattress in front of her as John once again stirred at her back.
"Come on, then. It's alright. Don't forget to take off your shoes."
Sherlock stepped fully into the room, embarrassment practically radiating off of him as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"Erm. You see, I had a question about this care-"
"No cases," she yawned, sidling further into John in order to give Sherlock a few more inches of mattress to lie down on as she once again patted the spot beside her. "Just sleep. It can wait till morning. There's a coat hook on the back of the door."
Sherlock hesitated in the doorway for one more moment, debating whether to flee, but then set his jaw determinedly and slipped out of his coat, hanging it up. Kicking off his shoes, he stretched out on top of the comforter at Mary's side. Close, but not quite touching.
"You were worried about us, weren't you?" she mumbled, feeling sleep trying to drag her back into it's warm hold.
"After what nearly happened at your wedding, can you blame me?" the consulting detective asked quietly, eyes scanning the perimeter of the room again. "I promised to always protect you. All of you. And I plan to keep that promise. Besides, you both seemed rather on edge, and I figured-"
Mary reached up, capturing one of his hands in hers.
"Thank you, love," she murmured.
Sherlock blinked down at her for a second, then curled his fingers around hers with a gentle smile.
"My pleasure."
Allowing her eyes to slip closed, Mary felt a weight vanish from her chest, one that she had not realized was there.
Maybe Mangussen was threatening her, but with John and Sherlock at her side, there was no way he would be allowed to harm anyone else that she cared about.
And now, curled up between her husband and the strange, clever man that had won both of their friendship, Mary felt truly safe for the first time in years.