Oct 25, 2020
well then, i didn't need my heart anyway
seen from Italy
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seen from China
seen from Germany
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well then, i didn't need my heart anyway
Johnlock: Wedding!lock V2
A Lot Can Happen In Five Minutes
The music changed as the last bridesmaid took her place. Everyone stood, the groom straightening and adjusting his tie nervously.
It was time.
Just at that moment, Rosie scrunched her face and the smell hit Mary. "Oh, honey. You have your father's timing."
They had purposefully taken a place in the back just in case of such an event. But really? Now?
"I'll take her," John whispered and carefully cradled their fussing daughter in his arms before slipping out a side door.
Just in time.
Mary drew in a breath. Framed by the sunlit doors, Molly looked stunning, the gown a beautiful white concoction of tulle and lace, her long hair tumbling down her back.
All for Tom.
Mary shot a look at the man waiting at the other end of the aisle and clenched her jaw. It wasn't her place to interfere (though God knows she had subtly and not-so-subrly tried). But she knew it should have been a different man holding out his hand for Molly to take.
Said man having played hooky from attending at all.
She was going to kill him.
*******
John snapped the little ruffled bloomers back on his wiggling baby girl. "Better hurry now, don't want to miss the "I do's"." He lifted a happy, clean Rosie back up and rearranged her dress. She stuck one thumb in her mouth and gripped his tie with the other hand.
"We want to see Aunt Molly get married, don't we?" He whispered as they walked back to the sanctuary. "And soon you'll have a new uncle! Uncle Tom!"
He opened the door quietly and slipped inside, missing Rosie's frown at the name.
Trying to maintain as low a profile as possible, he snuck back to their seats. Mary didn't turn, eyes locked at the front.
"What did I miss?" John asked softly, wondering where in the ceremony they were, shuffling Rosie over to her mother and the program.
Mary leaned toward him, speaking out of the corner of her mouth. "Tom's gone and Molly is marrying Sherlock."
"Hmmm," he said absentmindedly. Then her words hit him and he froze, his eyes flying to the front of the church.
"Wait, what?"
Suddenly, he realised that quite a few guests were missing and the tall curly man beside Molly wasn't the gangly accountant, but his best friend.
Sporting a rapidly darkening black eye.
A few guests turned to frown at him and Sherlock caught his gaze with his good eye. He smirked and turned his attention back to Molly.
"I do," he declared boldly, loudly.
Apparently, they were doing the short version. John gaped, trying to understand.
"I was only gone five minutes!"
Mary patted his knee, her smile smug. "You missed quite a show. Now hush. This is my favourite part."
Mycroft, having taken the place of Tom's second cousin the priest, looked between the bride and belated groom.
"Then by the power vested in me by, ahem, me," everyone smirked. Mycroft glowered, but continued. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Anthea, submit the papers."
His assistant clicked a button on her ever-present Blackberry and the legal documents cementing the couple went flying out into cyberspace. Of course Mycroft would have them ready.
"Now, Sherlock," Mycroft said indulgently. "You may kiss your bride."
Cheers erupted from the remaining guests as Sherlock tenderly cradled Molly's face, laying a kiss so passionate on her lips that John reached over to cover Rosie's eyes.
He laughed in disbelief, joining the riotous applause and shouts of "about time!" of their friends, as Sherlock hurried Molly down the aisle, her cheeks flushed rosy red.
They followed them outside, spilling out onto the lawn. Tom's convertible was gone and in its place was a London taxicab. "Borrowed" most likely.
"Giovanni, give us a lift, will you?" Sherlock shouted, helping Molly into the back.
John rolled his eyes in sync with Greg. The copper shuffled over, mumbling about idiots and arses and "bloody git barely made it by the skin of his teeth."
Sherlock ducked in beside Molly and Greg started the car. Molly tried to wave to everyone as they pulled away, but Sherlock was set on making up for lost time, pulling her into his arms and snogging her silly.
As the cab disappeared from sight, John turned to his beaming wife and babbling daughter, who looked as happy as her mother that Uncle Sherlock was kissing Aunt Molly. "I was only gone five minutes."
Laughing, Mary kissed his cheek. "A lot can happen in five minutes."
The Captain and the Bride
AN: How about some early 1900s romance and comedy? :) Happy Wednesday!
Well, that was one way to make an entrance.
The entire complement of guests turned as one as the doors to the chapel were thrown open. Illuminated by the morning sun, a once-thought-dead man strode inside. His hair was long and curled at the ends, hanging over his sun-kissed forehead. A smirk played on his lips, but his eyes were piercing with their severity as his gaze landed on the far end of the aisle and the woman standing there, a veil over her face.
“I object.”
His bellow carried through the stunned hall and he strode toward the altar, hand on the hilt of his scabbard. Dressed in his full Captain’s uniform, he cut a striking figure in the deep blue and white.
“Is that...Sherlock Holmes?”
“It is!”
“I thought he was dead.”
The murmuring grew as he drew even with the front row. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John Watson gaping at him from his seat, a furious storm brewing on the shorter man’s face. There would be time to catch up later. Right now, he had a bride to steal.
“Who are you!” The groom, a tall, curly-haired man, demanded, red-faced and stuttering. The bride simply looked between the men, her face obscured by the gauzy veil.
“Sherlock Holmes, Captain of Her Royal Highness’ Navy.” He bowed mockingly, never taking his gaze from the bride. “And I’m here to stop this ridiculous display. Molly,” he stepped toward her, reaching his hand out. “I promised I would return for you.”
“Erm, Sherlock...” John said behind him.
She just stared at him, not moving. “I thought of you every day, and only knowing you were here, waiting for me, kept me going on the darkest of days. Please...don’t marry him.”
“Sherlock,” John repeated, louder.
A hand touched his arm and, regretfully, he turned his head.
Standing behind him in a beautifully bright dress of the richest yellow, Molly beamed up at him, tears on her cheeks.
Sherlock stared. Then blinked. He looked back at the bride, then at Molly, and his face coloured when he realised his deductive mistake. “You’re not...”
“Of course not, you silly man,” Molly laughed and shook her head, brushing the curl from his forehead.
Sheer joy filled him and he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her with the passion he’d kept bottled up for more than two years, his knees going weak as she kissed him back in kind, her arms wrapping around his waist and holding him tight.
“A-hem.”
They broke apart, suddenly realising they were the focus of nearly 100 strangers, and turned to face the irritated groom.
Molly jumped. “Oh, Sherlock, this is Thomas and his wife, well, wife-to-be, Janine. Janine, Thomas... this is Sherlock Holmes.”
The men nodded stiffly at each other.
“As fond as I am of you, cousin,” Janine finally spoke from behind her veil, her voice laced with amusement. “Might we continue the ceremony?”
“Oh, yes, of course! So sorry,” Molly flushed bright red and tugged Sherlock over to her seat, the row of guests grumbling as they shifted to adjust to the addition.
The priest, who had been watching the proceedings with a bemused smile, turned back to the bride and groom and gestured for silence. “Shall we continue?”
As her cousin recited her vows, Sherlock reached over and pulled Molly’s hand into his lap, threading his fingers through hers, looking down at her with a promise in his eyes.
Molly beamed and leaned her head against his shoulder, wishing she could always be this happy.
Her Captain was finally home.
Johnlock: Wedding Aesthetic
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
He knew John thought him above this. Silly little calendar dates.
But he remembered. Could recall each and every moment that made his heart sing with such astonishing detail it could leave him overwhelmed.
He knew what today was. He just hadn't known what it meant.
Sherlock just staring at the ring because he can't get over the concept that someone could ever love him enough to want to keep him forever.
I'll Wait Forever (an Adlock Fanfiction)
YAY!! First actual fanfiction!!! Actually it won't be an 'actual fanfiction' because it'll probably have less than 5 chapters. This is from one of my old 1D fanfictions, but I tweaked it a little.
It's been over a year since the accident. I lost most of my memory, but my love for Sherlock refused to leave my mind. And today is our wedding day. Mrs Hudson helped me into my dress, we together we admired my reflection in the body length mirror. I saw how tears threatened to spill from the old lady's eyes. I tore away from the mirror to face her.
She opened her arms showing she was offering an embrace, which I gladly accepted. "I can't believe it. You two, finally getting married.", she states the reason for her tears. I smile, and say, "Now, no crying! Sadness is unacceptable on my wedding day!", in a joking manner.
Mrs. Hudson lets out a small chuckle, and smiles. "Well I am famished. I'm going to go sample that buffet!" I wave her off, and get back to the mirror. I don't mean to sound so self-absorbed, but my dress is gorgeous!
I hear the door swing open and I turn to face the intruder. Not exactly who I was expecting. A large, burly man whose facial features I can't determine because of the black mask covering his face. My eyes are wide and alert, for I fear what this man might threaten to do.
He walks slowly in my direction, and he speaks. "You... Irene Adler...The Woman." My name stands out from the sentence muffled from his covered mouth. The last phrase is unrecognizable to my ears.
My throat is dry, but I manage to choke out a sentence, "Who are you?" This somewhat throws him, but he regains his posture and forces a laugh. "You know exactly who I am." Most people would've been freaked out, but I replied, "No, I don't so would you please clarify?" He snorts, and his hand trails toward his back pocket.
"Right, the accident caused you to lose your memory. Nevertheless..." From the pocket he retrieved a small hand pistol, "I'm still going to kill you" He pulls the trigger, and my body goes numb as I fall to the ground
The next chapter will go up later tonight. :)