Smiling against Holmes's lips, Watson gladly let himself be guided backwards, and rather haphazardly dropped the bundle of clothing in the corner before he slipped away to escape towards the bed. "It doesn't seem," he said, "like so terrible a prison." He slid into the bed, reflecting briefly on how it really wasn't any longer merely Holmes's bed. The beds in their home were shared, now, despite the names that were attached to them, and that was certainly the way things should be.

"I think I can take anything you care to dish out," he added.