He looks around at calling Holmes husband, but then is there a better term, as Watson says? He has no scruples about them calling each other that if that's what they want; they lived like it enough, loved enough, so why not? Maybe that's blasphemous of him, but he's got his thoughts about God and justice, and he'll just have to take it up with St. Peter when he gets there.

He takes a long drink as well, letting it warm him, and he looks up from studying the drink in his glass at Watson's soft tone. His smile grows slowly, and he squeezes Watson's arm again.

"You'll be the first one I call," he promises, and it's true, too. "I can get the paperwork set up."