in W's home, waking beside each other in the morning light.
their second morning.
H yawns, remembering all the years during which he woke up alone.
W asks him tenderly how he feels. "Tired?"
H shrugs, blinking, "Is it thirty years already?"
"Longer." kisses him. "So, shall you consent to live with me again?" traces his hand against H's face.

H frowns somewhat, to hear W speak of arrangements still. then pouts absurdly "Move again, when I have just grown comfortable in Sussex?"

"You can grow comfortable here, too." another kiss. raises an eyebrow "Unless I really must give up my post to assist medically in the war, to join you. How long do you think it shall last, the war?"

H shrugs again, as if it made no difference.
seems far away and unresponsive.
W lays close, still kissing, whispering,
wondering of the future and how much time they may have left.

H sighs, observing
 how melancholy sad it is that he has so little left to give now
 at this late date.
after all these years.
What's to choose or arrange?

W is indignant.
"No, it's not too late, Holmes.
Not pointless to be together. Not--"
an idea.
W stumbles out of bed
and hurriedly fumbles at the drawer of the night-stand.
"No," he repeats, "There's life in us.
there are commitments left. Things to share.
Yes, hushed and retired, but--"
Ah, found it.

W turns back,
still kneeling on the floor and looking into H's mildly curious face.
It's a cigarette case that W holds out,
silver and aged, like them.

H recognises it.
Familiar now, though once forgotten.
A memento of his disappearance.

W opens it carefully,
revealing a handkerchief cushioning two preciously handled objects.
circlets of gold.
W gently holds them up to view.
"This is Lucy Ferrier's ring, from our first case.
Lestrade handed it over, for pure curiosity's sake
--my curiosity--" a smile
"And so I kept it, to remember our first true connexion."
the other ring "This is your facsimile used in that case,
an inheritance from your mother, according to Mycroft.
When you were gone he passed it on to me,
insisting that I have it.
Insisting that though it be seldom said, I was a friend to you,
dear as a brother, if not more,
and I was most welcome to the family."

H regards this with surprise and appreciation for Mycroft's subtlety.
Amazement, also,
that W kept these items so long.

W pauses with a sigh. comes nearer.
"If you would accept," slides one ring onto H's finger,
"consent," kissing softly H's hand,
"to stay with me,
forgive my actions for all these years..."
hands H the other ring to place in return.

H is strangely quite still and breathless.
W looks up, frowning with uncertainty.
blinks worriedly.
"Do you find me over-sentimental? Romantically foolish?"

H wordlessly stops him.
Touches his face.
Hesitation, blinking.
H at last slid the ring onto W's hand.
Then kissed him, so warm.