How about for Salstrade, "It may harm your defense."
Another long over due flash fic where the prompter gives the pairing and the story title. Sorry this took so long, @theemptyquarto.
“Right. So tell me again, in your own words, what exactly happened to delay you, Greg. And do bear in mind,” Sally added, her face and voice both utterly neutral, “that whatever you say right now - it may harm your defence.”
Greg bit his lower lip and raked his fingers through his close-cropped hair, wishing, not for the first time, that he was capable of coming up with a good way to lie to Sally. Not because he wanted to deceive her, but because he was a coward and an idiot, but mostly because he feared the truth would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. So to speak. Not that he was comparing Sally to a camel - God, never let THAT slip from mind to tongue! No, it was just because he was terrified of losing the most important person in his life because of the aforesaid idiocy and cowardice.
With a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate. Looking the white-gowned woman dead in the eyes (gorgeous, dark brown eyes that sparkled so beautifully when she was happy but were flat pools at the moment), he said, “Sherlock called. Needed me to come to the morgue. Said it was for a case.”
Sally nodded, still radiating absolute calm. “Of course. Sherlock Holmes needed you the night before your wedding so of course you went at the drop of an ear-hat. So what was it - chasing after criminals all night? Round trip by train to Wales?” She raked her eyes over his form, and finally he could see the disapproval in them - and, worst of all, the hurt. “He’s always going to be more bloody important to you than I am, isn’t he. Maybe we should…call it off now, Greg.”
He held up his hands placatingly. “No, Sally, it wasn’t like that, I swear! It wasn’t a case.” He shuddered. “It was…my stag do. The one I said I didn’t want. He and John and Mike and Phillip and Gary Dimmock got me so pissed I overslept and Sherlock and the others are still out cold so I don’t have a Best Man but Sally, I promise you…” He stepped forward, reaching out, huffing out a relieved breath when she allowed him to take her hands. “I promise you, nothing could keep me from marrying you today. I love you,” he added softly, sincerely. “I do, I swear. You mean more to me than anyone.”
“So why didn’t you call or text?” she asked, not - quite - letting him off the hook. Not with a chapel full of friends and family - minus the culprits he’d just named as partners in crime - waiting for them.
“Sherlock did something to my phone, said he didn’t want me making excuses to duck out, and then I, er, sort of misplaced it,” he confessed miserably. “And then when I woke up, saw what time it was, all I could think about was getting dressed and getting here as quickly as I could.”
Sally pursed her lips, tilted her head to one side, and gave him a considering look. “Right,” she said after a long, agonizing moment. “It’s your lucky day, Greg, coz I’m feeling very forgiving at the moment. But,” she added warningly, going so far as to shake her bouquet of wildflowers in his face, “if you pull this kind of ‘showing up at the last minute’ crap when our baby’s born, I’m kicking you to curb, got it?”
“Got it,” Greg said, beaming. Then he did a double-take, his eyes darting to Sally’s waistline. “Wait, that’s a hypothetical baby, right? Right?”
“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” she replied over her shoulder as she sashayed out of the room. “Now hurry up and get your gorgeous butt to the altar, before I change my mind!”
He was already moving before she’d made it much past the door, pausing only to press a grateful kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he whispered as he started jogging down the short hallway leading to the main chapel.
And he knew he’d be more than happy to spend the rest of his life proving that to her.
