thinking about how sherlock could have called greg at 3 a.m., the night before the wedding, in tears, and greg just drops everything and drives to 221b to sit on the floor of that little flat and help sherlock write his best man's speech and I just.
he's been working on that speech for hours and it's turned into a gay love letter and he's in tears and ripping it up to throw it in the fire when greg comes up and he just like. he gently takes the papers that haven't been torn up yet from sherlock and goes, "that's okay, we can still fix this" and he's so soft because he's never seen sherlock cry and he KNOWS that sherlock knows he means they can fix things between sherlock and john, not just the best man's speech
A Lavender marriage is a marriage between a man and a woman in which one, or both, parties are, or are assumed to be, homosexual. Usually, but not always, both parties are assumed to be complicit in a public deception to hide their homosexuality (although in some lavender marriages, the marriage partners may be bisexual). (x)
This is my first Sherlock Holmes imagine, I hope you enjoy it. It takes place after the season four finale. For more of my writing, check out my Masterlist here.
Sherlock Holmes, the first consultant detective and the last man anyone expected to be getting married. To be fair, he was not the same man he used to be. He had been changed by the people who loved him. The helped him evolve from a great man into a good one. Every person he met, every case he took, it all prepared him to allow love into his life. To allow you into his life. It was not easy, it was more than a simple deduction that he was used to. But after meeting you he knew that his greatest case ever would be figuring out how to be a man you could love.
The beginning was simple, you were hired to watch Rosie on a regular basis. This led to a friendship with John and frequent interactions with Sherlock. Instead of being put off by his composure and intelligence you were in awe of it. Over time Sherlock would go out of his way to make sure the two of you would cross paths. Seeing you with Rosie, watching your face light up as he spoke, and hearing your laugh made him feel something that he didn’t understand.
On a particular dull afternoon, Sherlock had made the mistake of asking about you. It didn’t take John long at all to figure out what was happening.
“You have a thing for my nanny,” he laughed.
“I certainly do not. High Functioning Sociopath remember. I don’t do love.” Sherlock replied.
“Keep telling yourself that Sherlock” John replied.
“I’m serious!”
“I’m sure you think that you are,”
“John!”
“You should ask her out,”
“You are acting like a twelve-year-old” Sherlock shot back. It wasn’t like he hadn’t entertained the idea, but why would someone like you ever want to go out with a man like him.
It would take three weeks for John to convince Sherlock to ask you out. He had to get coaching from both John and Mrs. Hudson and even then the entire concept seemed so foreign to him. That night he had met you at John’s house while you were babysitting Rosie. The two of you talked about his latest case. You knew that something was off and asked him about it. Eventually, with much rambling, he made it through his request. He stood silently over-analyzing every second before you had agreed.
From there, things were interesting, to say the least. Sherlock had no idea how to be a boyfriend and it was very obvious. Luckily, you were patient and low maintenance. You would help him with cases when John was otherwise occupied. He would also stop in when you were watching Rosie. While your relationship was far from traditional, it worked. He may not have always picked up on your emotional needs, but he was there for you in ways that only he could be. His blunt and harsh words dimmed as he learned what it meant to love someone in a romantic way. He loved you in his own way, but it was precisely what you needed and you couldn’t imagine your life with anyone else.
The next step in your relationship was moving into 221 B Baker St. with Sherlock. He explained that it was convenient and cost-effective, especially since the two of you already spent so much time there. You laughed at his applied logic and agreed, excited to take the next step.
There was never a dull moment living with him between his experiments, cases, and friends. The longer you were with him, the more you realized he was like a grown puppy in constant need of attention and excitement. Whether it was a good day or a bad day, you were both always there for each other.
Mrs. Hudson was the first one to ask Sherlock if he was ever going to purpose to you. She had shipped the two of you since the first time she had seen you interact. She joked that Sherlock would not meet anyone else who adored his brain and was willing to put up with it so he’d better marry you or John and get it over with. He initially brushed off this comment, but it got him thinking. The two of you had never really talked about marriage or kids, that just wasn’t Sherlock and you understood that. Marriage was just a social construct, he found it pointless, at least he used to. Before John and Mary’s wedding.
He asked John his opinion on the matter which caught him completely off guard. He couldn’t believe that his best friend was actually considering getting married. He was so happy and helped him plan everything out.
The proposal, like the rest of your relationship, was nontraditional. You, John, and Sherlock were on a case together and it proved to be more unpredictable than Sherlock had anticipated. After momentarily escaping imminent danger, the three of you were trying to figure out your next move and he just let it slip.
“Y/f/n Y/l/n, if we make it out of this alive would you want to marry me?” he asked nonchalantly.
Before you could answer John spoke up, “Now?! We were just being shot at and you think now is the time to propose?”
“I’m sorry, is it not a good time? Would you rather me wait until after we get shot?” he directed to his friend.
“Sherlock-” John started.
“Yes,” you answered staring adoringly at the scene in front of you. This was your family and your life and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“Yes, what?” John asked.
“Sherlock asked me a question, that is my answer. Yes.” you clarified.
“Really?” Sherlock asked.
“Yes, now can we figure out how to get out of here alive?” you added.
“Oh right, I have a plan,” Sherlock explained.
“Of course you do,” John sighed not believing what he just witnessed.
That night ended with everyone making it out unscathed, the criminals in custody, and celebration of the engagement. When you made it back to 221 B Baker street Sherlock revealed the ring he had made for you. The two of you spent the next couple of months planning your wedding in-between cases, Sherlock was unexpectantly invested and excited.
It was a relatively small gathering. You didn’t have much family and weren’t in contact with them. At the end of the day, it was John and Mycroft who was Sherlock’s co-best men, Rosie who was the cutest flower girl ever, Mrs. Hudson, the rest of the Holmes family, Molly, Detective Lestrade, and a few other close friends. Because you didn’t really have anyone else, you asked John to walk you down the aisle which he was honored to do. He later made a joke that you and Sherlock might as well had asked him to officiate the ceremony too.
You had both decided to write your own vows which were interesting. Sherlock went first pulling out his notes from his pocket and then deciding not to use them and speak freely instead.
“I used to not believe in love. If you told me that I would be getting married I would have laughed at the ridiculous notion. I was logical and avoided emotions that would interfere with that. I never wanted the distraction that was love, furthermore, I didn’t believe I was capable of loving someone in a romantic way. But then I met you. I’m not going to lie and say that it was love at first sight or that I knew that we would end up together because it was not that simple. But over time I came to realize that I wanted to experience love and you. No matter how illogical, you had made an impact on my life and I wanted to explore that. Y/f/n Y/l/n you make me happy and complete in ways I can’t even comprehend. You make me want to be a better man, to be more like the man you believe that I am. So today in front of the people we love most, I vow to spend the rest of my with you, no matter where it takes us. The game is on.” he smiled.
“Oh my, how am I supposed to follow that?” you joked earning laughs from the others in attendance.
“Okay, here it goes. Sherlock Holmes, you are one of the most brilliant and astonishing people I have ever met in my life. My life changed the moment I met you. You brought adventure, uncertainty, and excitement into my life. I know that there will never be a dull moment with the two of us. By marrying you, I realize that I am marrying science experiments in the kitchen, solving cases, and ending any chance that I had at a normal life which is perfect. I acknowledge that you are not perfect nor am I, but we are perfect for each other and that is what matters. You are everything that I never knew I needed and I love the person I am when I am with you. So today, I vow to spend the rest of my life reminding you who you are. I vow to be there for you at 2 am when the world doesn’t make sense and at 2 pm when it does. I vow to help you annoy Mycroft and to look after John and Rosie. I vow to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter where it takes us. The game is on.” you smiled reciting his last two lines.
The two of you exchanged rings and were directed to kiss which earned cheers from your friends and family. You quickly signed the papers and took the photos before adjourning to the reception that John had planned. It was nice and intimate. Your and Sherlock’s first dance was something that you would never forget. You had never realized that Sherlock could dance like that. The rest of the night was what you’d expect for a reception. You made it to the point of speeches and everyone took their turn. Mycroft’s was short and simple, he explained how he was proud of his brother for becoming the man he was and wished you luck as Sherlock was your problem now. The mood changed as it became John’s turn. His speech was so sincere and touching that it brought people to tears. When he completed, both you and Sherlock nearly tackled him in a hug.
As the night finished out, you and Sherlock prepared to leave on your honeymoon which was planned and paid for by Mycroft. You thanked everyone for coming and were on your way, knowing that John would see that everything was taken care of. You looked up at Sherlock dazed with how happy you were. This was easily the best night of your life. You couldn’t wait to see what lies in store for the two of you. After all, the game is on.
Requested by @spaceyslytherin (picture also made by them!)
Pairing: Sherlock x gender neutral
Warnings: n/a
Summary: Sherlock and [y/n] have dated for years and are finally getting married!
Word Count: 284
It had been five years, and not an easy five either. Every day was a new case, a new struggle, a new incident with someone trying to take you or your family hostage. All in the life of a consultant detective’s significant other.
Scratch that - consultant detective’s spouse.
You’d gotten it out of Mycroft that your boyfriend was alive, but that still didn’t mean there was contact between you two during the events after his famous fall. But your love did not weakan. And the first thing you did when you saw him again - two years later, looking more tired and hurt than ever - was kiss him hard against the lips before falling to your knees, wrapping your fingers into his.
“Marry me,” You’d spent five years imagining how he would propose - you never imagined yourself being the one to do it.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” He kissed you again, and it felt as magical now as it did now, looking out onto the streets of London from your quiet flat, your pristine white dress/suit clinging to your body as the night fell over both of you.
“I love you,” Sherlock muttered onto your lips, his hands trailing your figure. “I love you,” He repeated again, moonlight caressing his face in the wake of your fingers. You two were a vision, a beautiful newlywed couple with nothing to fear and everything to look forward to, life all pieced together for just a snippet of the chaotic life you two would surely lead. None of that mattered in the moment - all that mattered was that you were in love, and there was nothing that would keep you from it.
MOFFAT CRIED WHEN HE WROTE SHERLOCK'S BEST MAN SPEECH. I REPEAT, HE CRIED. HE ALSO SAYS OF HIMSELF THAT HE NORMALLY NEVER CRIES. AND YET HE DID. BECAUSE OF SHERLOCK'S VERY STRONG PLATONIC LOVE OR WHAT???
I'm hysterical right now
Oh btw that's the last bit they're talking about:
The entire article is golden though
(I'm removing the link for now because I'm not sure if that whole "posts with links aren't visible thing" is still going on, however if you're interested I can message you the link, or just search 'steven moffat Sherlock Holmes best man speech interview' or something, shouldn't be too hard to find!!)
(Amber announces the happy couple again as soon as they pass through the trellis from one side of the garden to the other. Eventually everyone is seated and dinner is served in three courses, which comes as a surprise to John because Sherlock had assured him it would be fairly simple. How many courses are involved in a meal that isn’t simple? John gives Sherlock a sideways look and his mind boggles. The detective has a smile in his face and seems right in his element. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the man was actually enjoying himself. Or…had been replaced by a pod. A grin spreads wide on his face at that thought.
When everyone has had their fill and the china has been collected, Greg Lestrade rises from his seat to address the crowd.)
G: Well, now…the wedding was lovely and we’ve all had a fantastic meal. (looking around the garden at all the smiling faces) It’s time for the speeches.
SD: Hear! Hear!
G: When I first met Sherlock…
S: Oh, god.
G: It was on a case. I was just a sergeant back then, a youngster myself, but Sherlock… Sherlock was a kid. Barely 20.
S: I was 22.
G: Oh, forgive me for making such a glaring mistake. (Laughter rises up, as Greg rolls his eyes. Sherlock huffs and Greg winks at him, raising his hand to still the crowd.) Point is, I didn’t know where he came from or who he was - I still don’t know how he knew there’d been a murder in the park that morning - but there he was. As you can imagine, I was told to remove him, which I did. Bodily. (a few chortles, an eye roll from Sherlock) He shouted at me all the way and, even though I tried not to listen, what he said about the crime was spot on. By the time I got him to the tapes, I knew he’d solved the case.
Pretty soon, he turned up at almost all the cases I was on and I started phoning him in once I made inspector. We worked together for years and I like to think we were friends. Whether or not Sherlock would agree, I don’t know, but I know how I felt. How I still feel. We saw each other through a great many things and I thought he was happy enough. Maybe not outwardly, but he always loved a good case.
It wasn’t until John came along that I saw Sherlock truly happy, and I knew it immediately. From that first day when he brought him onto the scene of what became A Study in Pink. (chuckling to himself at the memory) And again, I had no idea who he was. ‘He’s with me’ was all I could get out of Sherlock.
Sherlock calls him his conductor of light. There isn’t, and could never be, a more apt description. It was like everything got brighter and more vivid. Sherlock was sharper and faster. John helped him think more clearly…and kept him from getting his ass kicked in dark alleys. And he’s helped him do something new, something he hadn’t done before. He has helped Sherlock truly enjoy life for the first time since I met him. He’s helped him be happy, genuinely happy and, for that, I am ecstatic.
(Greg turns toward the two men with a nostalgic gaze and raises his glass.) Sherlock, John, I can’t tell you how happy I am for you and for this day. I wish for you all the best and all the joy there is in the world. You both deserve it. (flicking his glass in a toast) Cheers.
(The word is repeated throughout the garden and champagne flutes meet the mouths of every guest in turn. John stands, pulling Sherlock up with him, and hugs his friend.)
J: Ta, Greg. Ta very much.
(Sherlock steps forward and embraces the DI in a far warmer hug than either he or John expected.)
S: Thank you, Greg. Not just for today. (pulling away to look at the man with sincerity) I may not have allowed myself to notice, but you were not the only one who felt we were friends.
(A surprised Greg Lestrade beams at the tall brunette and claps a hand on his shoulder before returning to his seat. Sherlock and John follow suit, as Mike Stamford stands.)
MS: No points for originality on me. I was going to start with “When I first met John” too. (He smiles as everyone shares in pleasant laughter, which grows a bit louder and more jovial when he continues.) It was at University. That’s right, I’m still going there. We were both in medical school, obviously, and had nearly all of our classes together. After first year, we started rooming together. I loved John. He was my best friend. We were so much alike at that time. We were almost always in each other’s company. And when I say almost… (His sly eyes slide to John’s, who giggles under his breath.)
To say John had a way with women would be an understatement. He always had a pretty girl on his arm. (Sherlock’s spine straightens.) We had a deal between us. We were kids, you know how it is. Anytime either of us had a visitor in the room, we’d hang a sock on the doorknob. Well, I figured I’d never get to sleep in my own room! But John wasn’t what I expected. (looking thoughtfully at an embarrassed John) I only came home to a sock a couple of times in the whole of our times at school, and we roomed solid until graduation. John’s never been what anyone expects, even Sherlock. It’s part of what drew them together.
(He continues with a knowing smile.) Turns out John was never playing the field the way it looked. He was looking for someone even then. Someone to share his life, his dreams, his sorrows. I can only assume that’s why he joined the army. Still looking for excitement and for someone who could make his heart beat fast. And…in all modesty, I knew Sherlock Holmes was that person the moment I saw John in the park after all those years, saying he needed to find a flat share. (shrugging) I didn’t really expect all this, (gleeful laughter breaks through the crowd) but I’m beyond happy that it did.
(Mike raises his glass solemnly and everyone follows suit.) To John and Sherlock. May you always be one another’s source of joy and the catalyst that spurs on one another’s dreams. May you always have the patience to talk things through and never be afraid to depend on each other. And, as my mother always said, let your love guide and teach you and you’ll live all your days in the brightest of places.
(He turns to the crowd.) To John and Sherlock.
ALL: To John and Sherlock!
MS: (looking at the couple facetiously) I’m always going to take credit for setting you two up, just so you know.
(The garden erupts into laughter and only grows in volume when Mrs. Hudson pipes up in mock objection. John and Sherlock rise again to hug and thank Mike before he takes his seat. Once everyone has settled a bit, they move to the cake. Mrs Hudson leads the applause as they cut a piece and put it on a plate. John picks up a chunk and grins at Sherlock, who shoots him a warning look. John lifts his free hand in placation and his brows along with it.)
J: Come on. I’ll be good.
(Sherlock narrows his eyes and grunts. He opens his perfect mouth and waits. John smiles sweetly and, true to his word, delicately places the cake on Sherlock’s tongue. The saucy detective closes his lips around John’s fingers before he can pull them back, eliciting a chorus of catcalls and whistles from their friends.
John’s eyes are wide and slightly dilated when he frees his fingers from Sherlock’s mouth with a pop. He takes the napkin his husband offers and begins to wipe them off. Looking very pleased with himself, Sherlock breaks his own piece off the slice and holds it in front of John with a coy smile. The besotted doctor finishes cleaning his fingers and tosses the linen onto the table. He juts out his chin playfully and opens his mouth for the cake. Sherlock begins moving to feed John and then swings back, the cake landing in his own mouth.)
J: Oi!
(Laughter surrounds them as Sherlock grabs John around the waist and hauls him in for an open-mouthed kiss. He pushes smushed cake into John’s mouth with his tongue and then twists it around John’s. Still too shocked to react beyond winding his tongue with Sherlock’s, John’s hands come to rest on his husband’s arms in an effort to steady himself.
When Sherlock breaks from the kiss, he smears his lips and tongue across John’s cheek, covering it with the remaining icing and crumbs. He pulls back to survey his handiwork, smiling at John brightly, and laughing quietly in that deep baritone. It’s music to John’s ears. John tries to look cross, but fails miserably as his lips turn up instead of down.)
J: Where has this side of you been all this time, hm? What else are you hiding?
S: (playfully) Oh, you’ve seen it before. Usually not in public.
(John laughs loudly and Sherlock joins him instantly, kissing him again.
After the two of them clean up and cake is passed around to all, the reception settles for a bit in friendly conversation and laughter. When everyone is finished and the tables moved, John and Sherlock find themselves in the middle of the dance floor. The extended version of the song Sherlock wrote for John begins to play. Sherlock gives his husband an affectionate smile and holds out his hands in invitation. John grins back, taking one hand and laying the other on the taller man’s shoulder. Sherlock loosely rests his at John’s waist and they begin moving together.)
J: Tell me, husband. (giving Sherlock a dazzling smile) Is the playful side of you going to make more public appearances?
S: (skeptically) Playful?
J: Less serious then.
S: John, I am serious about everything I do.
J: (smirking) Just answer the question, you tosser.
S: (lips curling) It may resurface on special occasions.
J: And…what about privately?
(Sherlock smiles at him wickedly and lets two fingers brush over John’s firm, round ass.)
S: I think you know the answer to that question.
J: Mm. I will always look forward to that.
(Sherlock gazes at John’s bright grin with adoring eyes and a quiet, higher-pitched sound slips from his lips. John’s eyes and smile widen.)
J: Did you just giggle? Did Sherlock ‘I’m serious about everything I do’ Holmes just giggle?
S: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
J: (licking his lips) Oh, I think you do. It was adorable, you know.
S: Stop. (glancing away, embarrassed, also adorable) It’s my turn to ask a question.
(John laughs quietly. Sherlock hates being embarrassed and obviously wants to change the subject, soooo John goes along with it. Even though six feet of scarlet-cheeked, shifty-eyed consulting detective is one of the cutest things he’s ever seen in all his life.)
J: Are we taking turns?
(Sherlock shoots him the sort of look he gives Greg when he’s said something ridiculous at a crime scene and John laughs again. Sherlock’s expression lightens and he leans into John, into the dance.)
S: So, all those women.
J: (in a low voice) Oh, god. I knew this would come up as soon as Mike said it. (meeting Sherlock’s eyes seriously) Please tell me you’re not angry.
S: No, of course not. More curious.
J: Curious? That’s not what I expected.
S: (hesitantly) Was the sock really only there twice?
(He watches John carefully for any sign of discomfort or deception and sees neither. John’s eyes are sincere and honest when he responds.)
J: It was more than that, but only for two different relationships.
S: (brow furrowing in confusion) Why Three-continents Watson then?
J: What? (He momentarily stops dancing to stare at his husband.) Where did you hear that?!
S: (shrugging) Does it matter?
J: (quietly and beginning to dance again) Yes, it bloody well matters.
(Sherlock raises a brow and leads John into a spin on the dance floor. John sighs.)
J: No, it doesn’t.
S: Three-continents? I assumed a sexual partner on each one.
J: (huffing a laugh) No. No, that’s not it at all.
S: I’m not suggesting it all happened at University. Presumably one such occasion was in Afghanistan.
J: Sherlock! (leaning his face close to the detective’s and looking up at him intently) It’s nothing to do with sex.
S: Isn’t it?
J: No!
S: What then?
(John exhales quietly and glances at Sherlock’s chin for a moment.)
J: It’s…it’s embarrassing. (His eyes raise to see Sherlock’s pointed look and he sighs.) There was this older woman, probably Mrs. Hudson’s age, and we were all 20s and early 30s in my unit. She ran a dive we frequented. She was always flirting with me - young man, captain of my unit. One night she proposed marriage. (Sherlock nearly laughs out loud, but just manages to keep it in. That is not at all what he expected to hear. As John continues, the detective finds himself not even trying to hide a broad smile. John’s cheeks color to a deep shade of crimson and he can’t help but give a little smile.) I turned her down.
S: Of course. Naturally. You were there with your men and all.
(John cocks a brow at his smartass husband and continues.)
J: I thought it was over and done with, but she went on to promise herself to only me and said I could take her up on it anytime I wanted. As soon as she was on to another customer, Blackwell pipes up and says he remembers me telling him about an elderly patient who did the same while I was in medical school, and he saw it happen when we spent a month training in Egypt. ‘That’s three continents,’ he said. ‘Our captain is quite the ladies man. Three-continents Watson.’
(Sherlock finally lets it go and laughs as quietly as he can. He squeezes his eyes shut as his cheeks rise up under them, the smile growing even wider. His head bows slightly and makes a shallow nodding motion. John’s brow remains cocked and he leans back to watch the taller man. He wears the look of one who is totally unamused and yet, there is a certain levity in his eyes.)
J: Your sensitivity is astounding.
S: Sorry, John. I’m so sorry. (trying to stop laughing) I thought…
J: Yeah, I know what you thought. You must think I’m a complete slag.
S: (sobering a bit at the offense in John’s tone) I’m sorry, John, but what was I meant to think? You had a different woman in the flat every week.
J: It wasn’t every week!
S: It was for a five month period. Then it slowed before ceasing completely.
(John rolls his eyes in exasperation. He would throw his hands up too, but doesn’t want to break their embrace or interrupt the dancing again. He looks Sherlock in the eye.)
J: There may have been a lot of women, but I didn’t sleep with all of them.
S: (affronted) You stayed all night at their homes!
J: You’ve not heard of snogging? Falling asleep in your date’s arms?
S: By definition, ‘sleeping with’ does constitute…
J: (quietly and leaning in) I didn’t have sex with all of them, Sherlock. Only one or two, and no Sarah was not one of them.
S: Oh, I knew that. You would not be such close friends now if you had.
(Leaning more until their faces are very close, breath tickling at one another’s lips.)
J: I couldn’t. Not when my heart already belonged to someone else.
(Sherlock grins and gently presses his lips to John’s.
They dance in companionable silence, drinking in one another. Before long, Sherlock recognizes the music in its second half. Their first activity as husbands is nearly complete and their guests will insert themselves once more. Suddenly he finds himself asking a question he hadn’t mean to, not for a few years anyway.)
S: Have you ever thought about having children?
(John blinks his eyes wide and looks truly startled. Idiot! Idiot! Sherlock tries to resume their dance, but John’s feet are glued to the spot.)
S: (whispering and nudging) John.
(He blinks again and begins to move, as if snapping out of a trance. A minute later, his eyes have not left Sherlock’s and Sherlock is beginning to rue the day he learned to speak. John’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, a precursor to speaking. Sherlock braces himself.)
J: I used to think about it. Haven’t for a long time. Not since…
S: You met me. (John looks at him with a frown, his brows deeply furrowed.) It follows when you choose a life of danger and develop feelings for someone without a uterus. Do you regret…
J: (firmly) Stop right there. I will never have any regrets about you. Except maybe that I didn’t say something as soon as I knew how I felt. (pausing to let his words sink in) I was going to say since I joined the army. Dangerous lifestyle and all that, but it started to seem unlikely even before that, when I was in school. A doctor’s life is a busy one. I could see making room for a wife, but children too…
(He trails off, looking deeply into Sherlock’s eyes, his expression. What is it he sees there? Disappointment?
The music comes to an end, and John is reminded that he and Sherlock are not alone when the others begin clapping. The taller man releases his grasp on John and steps backwards, but John latches onto his waist and pulls him back. His voice is quiet and urgent.)
J: Let’s talk about this later. (looking into silver eyes) Please.
(He thinks he sees a nod before being virtually yanked apart to opposite sides of the garden where guests engage each of them in conversation. By the time John escapes from a few of the Yarders, he looks across the way for Sherlock and sees him talking with Billy Wiggins. John takes a step forward only to be stopped by an imposing figure.)
J: Sir.
Sholto: Please, John, it’s James. You haven’t been under my command in years.
J: (with a smile) James, eh? That’s going to take some getting used to. How have you been?
———–
BW: I bring many congratulations, Mr. Holmes.
S: Thank you, Wiggins. I wish everyone could have come. You are all welcome.
BW: Believe you me, Mr. Holmes, the word was spread, but we thought a few representatives would better suit.
S: It is good to see you. You and Jessie are well?
NW: Yes, we are.
S: Excellent. And Mrs. Tupper?
BW: Smashing.
S: Glad to hear it. When she fell ill, it gave me quite a turn.
BW: Oh, did for us all. She’s like our mum out there. (pausing and looking apprehensive) Uh, Mr. Holmes, the thing is…Jessie and I are… We’re going to be married and wondered if…perhaps you and the good doctor…
S: (smiling warmly) We’d love to. Just let us know when and where.
BW: (with a look of relief) Ta. We will.
(Sherlock glances away and finds his attention caught on John and Sholto. He narrows his eyes, deductions flying through his mind. Wiggins follows his razor-sharp gaze and quickly makes some deductions of his own.)
BW: Who’s that with himself?
S: Major James Sholto, former commander.
BW: Ah. Perhaps you should…
S: I plan to. (turning to look at Wiggins) If I don’t see you again, thank you for coming and do let us know about the ceremony.
BW: Will do, Mr. Holmes.
————-
J: Sounds like you’re getting along well, in spite of everything.
Sholto: I am, John. Becoming a recluse has its advantages. (his expression turning nostalgic as his gaze falls to John’s smile, his lips) And its drawbacks.
J: Oh? Surely you’ve kept in touch with some of the old faces.
Sholto: Yes. (eyes lifting again) Yes, of course. But not the one I wanted.
J: Well, I certainly am pleased you could come for this. It’s wonderful to see you again after all this time.
Sholto: I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, John.
(His eyes dip to John’s lips again and his mind begins to wander as John speaks. Are those lips as soft as they look? What would they feel like against his own, against his skin?
Sholto blinks a few times, his eyes wide, his body straightening into military posture. He interrupts John suddenly.)
Sholto: John, I think it’s time we part ways.
J: Sir?
S: Hello.
(John nearly jumps at finding Sherlock unexpectedly by his side. The detective is smiling and looking from one man to the other. Sholto, roughly the same height as Sherlock, stares the man down with military precision. Sherlock meets his eyes and an understanding instantly passes between them.)
J: (spluttering) Sherlock, this is Major James Sholto. Sir, this is my…my husband. Sherlock Watson Holmes.
(John looks utterly pleased to have just said these words. In fact, he is beaming from ear to ear. He has never before had the opportunity to introduce Sherlock as his husband and he turns to grin at said husband.)
S: (offering his hand) So nice to meet you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.
Sholto: (coolly) And I have read the blog. (He shakes Sherlock’s hand firmly and releases. He looks back at John, his expression now closed off completely.) John, I wish you all the best. Goodbye, Mr. Holmes.
J: Sir!
(Sherlock clamps a hand on John’s arm to stop him.)
S: Let him go. (They watch as Sholto leaves the garden and is out of sight. John gives Sherlock a confused look.) Later. I promise.
Mrs. H: Sherlock! You owe me a dance. I may not be your mother, but I fit the bill.
(He and John look at the older woman with tender eyes and Sherlock takes her hand.)
S: Hudders, I can deny you nothing. If you will excuse me, husband.
(Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson move to the dance floor and join in with other couples. As soon as they begin, John feels a tap on his shoulder.)
MH: May I have this dance?
J: Molly. (breaking into a grin) Of course.
———–
Mrs. H: This is all so lovely, so lovely. I’m so happy for you, Sherlock.
S: (looking displeased) Mrs. Hudson, it has come to my attention that you have not been giving John the same advice on being a good husband.
Mrs. H: (tutting) I knew you’d find out, dear. It’s a little unfair, I know, but I just want you to be happy and you are so obtuse.
S: (indignantly) Obtuse?!
Mrs. H: On romance, dear, romance. Sensitivity. (smiling fondly) I know you love John with all your heart. I just thought I’d give you a push in the right direction when it comes to expressing it.
(Sherlock continues to frown, but Mrs. Hudson just laughs.)
———-
J: What’s he like? In private, I mean. That is, if you don’t mind my asking.
MH: (laughing) Completely different. He’s very kind and gentle, quick to laugh.
J: (shaking his head) I can’t believe we’re talking about the same person.
MH: Well, Sherlock only learns from the best. They really are both very good at hiding their feelings.
J: True. Very true.
MH: He does enjoy needling Sherlock, but worries for him genuinely as well. When their parents died, Mycroft saw himself as Sherlock’s protector, like he couldn’t just be his brother anymore.
J: And Sherlock deeply resented it.
MH: Yep.
J: Well, I’m glad they get on better. (Molly looks skeptical.) Fair enough. We can help them get on better.
MH: Glad to know you’re on the side of the angels. (hesitantly) If you are.
J: Why wouldn’t I be?
MH: (biting her lip) Mycroft refused to help when you were on the island.
J: I know, Molly. I know. Moriarty threatened you. What else could he do?
MH: Something different. I wish he’d done something different.
J: He was protecting you and that, my friend, is worth it.
MH: But John, you suffered so.
J: It’s all in the past, Molly. (shaking his head) Let’s leave it there and move on with our lives, our husbands.
MH: (with a smile) You’re a good man, John.
(She leans close and kisses his cheek.)
————–
(Sherlock strolls to his brother’s side and follows his eyes to see John and Molly dancing together.)
S: Giving away all of your secrets, is she?
M: Just telling him how I feel about my baby brother.
S: (smirking) It’s a wonder John hasn’t stomped over here to punch you in the throat.
M: (sighing) Mum and dad would have loved to see this day. They were always so worried you would be alone. (fixing Sherlock with his gaze) They knew it would trouble you.
S: They would have wanted to see your marriage as well. (Mycroft’s brows raise.) Being alone may not have concerned you, but they knew you still wanted someone.
M: Hm. They always knew best.
S: (chuckling) They knew everything.
M: That, they did. (looking back at Molly and John) Sherlock, now that you have John in your life, I might…lighten my watchful eye.
(Sherlock looks at his brother thoughtfully, reading every implied meaning into the man’s words. Mycroft turns his head slowly toward Sherlock.)
M: I am happy for you, brother mine. More than you know.
(None of the usual bite is in his tone and there is even a soft look in his eye when he turns to face the approaching figure.)
MH: Hello, love. (She reaches for Mycroft with both hands and he grasps them with his own.) Sorry to take him away, but I’d like to dance with my husband.
S: (with a slight bow) Of course, Molly.
(She guides the older man onto the dance floor. Sherlock watches as they dance close, whispering to one another and giggling.)
G: Never thought I’d see that.
(Sherlock glances at Greg, now standing by his side.)
S: The two of them?
G: Mycroft giggling.
(Sherlock laughs in spite of himself and looks down at his feet, then meets his friend’s eyes. Greg smiles back and sort of gestures with his shoulders, his hands in his pockets.)
G: I can’t tell you how much this means to me. All of it. You and John, being your best man. I can’t believe we’ve gone from how we met to this.
S: Yes. Thank you for not mentioning any of the lesser known highlights.
G: (shrugging) Water under the bridge. But if you start again, I’ll kick your ass. (Sherlock exhales dismissively and waves it off. Greg’s expression lightens again.) I know.
S: Greg, thank you. (Greg hears the quiet sincerity in Sherlock’s voice and meets his eyes. His brow angles down in question.) You have done a lot for me over the years and I don’t believe I have ever once thanked you.
G: We’ve done a lot for each other.
(Sherlock blows out a breath and smiles at Greg genuinely. Greg grins back.)
————
SD: You know, I’m glad you didn’t listen when I warned you off Holmes. I’m glad I was wrong about him. (pausing to admire John’s stunning smile) The two of you really are a pair of star-crossed lovers. You’ve made each other better.
J: (laughing) And you, Sally, are a romantic. Never would’ve guessed.
SD: (shrugging) We all have our weaknesses.
J: (nodding slowly) Yours has a French name and a pair of beautiful brown eyes attached to it.
SD: (quietly, urgently) John, don’t.
J: No worries. I won’t say a word.
SD: (lowering her voice further) Look, he’s my superior. Nothing can happen and I would never put him in a position of reprimand.
J: What about when you’re promoted?
SD: By then, he’ll have been promoted too.
J: Ah.
SD: And, if I transfer to another division or department, it’ll just look shady. And I’ll never see him. (John’s mouth tightens into a thin line.) I just need to forget it, John.
(He opens his mouth to respond, but a silky baritone comes out instead.)
S: Sally, you don’t mind if I cut in, do you?
SD: (smiling broadly) Not at all.
(She makes a hasty exit and Sherlock slides his hand around John’s waist, his other taking John’s hand.)
J: Are you always going to lead?
S: I asked you. I think that entitles me to lead. (shrugging) Besides, I’m a better dancer.
(John huffs a laugh and licks his upper lip, hesitating momentarily, letting his tongue rest on his lip. He looks up at Sherlock, whose eyes are locked on his mouth.)
J: I won’t argue that point, but just because it’s our wedding day.
(Sherlock doesn’t respond, but swoops in close instead, his lips next to John’s ear, his breath swishing through John’s hair and tickling his skin.)
S: When can we tell these people to leave? I want you alone.
J: For god sake, Sherlock, pull yourself together. You look like you want to push me up against a wall.
(Sherlock’s eyes are searing and he emits a low growl. Somewhat startled, John looks at him in disbelief.)
J: Are you always like this at weddings? What is wrong with you?
(Seeing how taken aback John’s is, Sherlock regroups and starts pouting.)
S: I don’t see why it all has to take so long. We just got married. These people should know we want to be together. When can we be alone?
J: Soon, babe, soon. It’ll be over before you know it.
S: (scowling) I find that very hard to believe.
***
(Roughly three hours later, John and Sherlock have bid farewell to the last few stragglers. The caterers have cleaned up and stored all the left over food. Dishes have been collected and stowed in the catering truck. Tables and decorations will be picked up in the morning without any need to disturb the happy couple.
They are free. Free to be together in peace and quiet.)
(John walks through the trellis into the reception side of the garden to see Sherlock standing next to a table with his eyes closed. He watches for a moment, a blissful smile on his face. Sherlock Holmes is his husband. His. Husband. He is wearing John’s ring so everyone will know and he will never take it off. John looks down at his own ring and shivers. It looks…perfect. Like it was made for his finger alone to be given to him by one man, the man standing just a few feet away.
John looks Sherlock’s way again to see his eyes staring back. He starts, like he has been caught at something, and then tries to appear nonchalant. Sherlock smirks, but becomes very serious seconds later.)
S: Are they gone?
J: They are. (smiling) Every last one.
(Sherlock turns toward John and grins. He looks charming, friendly, like a man in love. And gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous. His curls rustle in the breeze and the soft glow of the twinkle lights overhead shine in his silver eyes. And that smile…John finds himself grinning back like a fool.)
S: John Watson, husband, (a corner of his mouth turning up) would you accompany me into the house?
J: I would love to.
(Sherlock strides to his mate, tousles his own hair with both hands, and then puts them on either side of John’s face. He stares down at John, with half-lidded eyes and tilts his head just before slotting their mouths together in a burning kiss. John’s hands float up to grasp lightly at the man’s waist. Sherlock’s plush lips part and his tongue sweeps along John’s lips slowly. John begins melting where they stand.
All too soon, Sherlock pulls away and John’s lips are cool with the absence of his touch. His eyes flutter open and meet Sherlock’s. The detective’s long fingers gently glide into John’s soft hair.)
J: (with a short gasp) What on earth was that for?
S: Dramatic flare. It is required before we enter the house.
J: (laughing) What? That doesn’t make any sense at all, Sherlock. Why do we need…
(Sherlock suddenly stoops over and tucks his arm under John’s knees, lifting him off his feet as he walks through the trellis.)
J: Sherlock! What the hell are you doing?!
(The taller man pauses under the flowers, their sweet scent filling the air around them. He smirks and presses a quick kiss to John’s frowning lips.)
S: I’m carrying you across the threshold…husband. (He grins and starts walking again.) It makes more sense for me to do it. I’m taller.
J: What?! I could carry you just as easily! Put me down.
S: Mm-hm. I’m sure you could, Captain.
J: Oh, don’t even start.
(Sherlock laughs loudly in a deep baritone rumble all the way into the house with John in his arms, not resisting, but certainly grumbling at every step.)
