Watson imagined this, or tried to. It sounded positively hellish. He knew already by personal experience there was no point in wishing the past was anything other than what it was. He had too many regrets for that, regrets that did him no good to hold on to. Still, he wished he could have been there, for all the good it would have done.

"And then you ended up with monks, you said." Watson let his fingertips wander over Holmes's collarbone, his touch delicate. He turned his face to press a kiss against his chest. "Is that how it happened?"