Sherlock Holmes- A Study in Blood

Chapter 11

"Do you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take Irene Elizabeth Victoria Adler to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live in the holy estate of matrimony..."

"I do," Holmes nodded, his voice confident and sure.  And perhaps a tad too eager.  Watson could not help but chuckle at Judge Thomas' surprised expression.

Fortunately, the judge was relatively familiar with the antics of Sherlock Holmes, and was able to recover quite quickly.   "Yes, well... good then."  He turned next to Irene and said, "Do you, Irene Elizabeth Victoria Adler, take William Sherlock Scott Holmes to be your lawfuly wedded husband, to live in the holy estate of matrimony?  Will you love, honor, comfort, and cherish him from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him for as long as you both shall live?"

Patiently waiting for Judge Thomas to finish speaking, she gave Sherlock a wink and a smile.  "I do."

As the couple vowed to love each other for the rest of their lives, Watson reflected fondly on his own wedding day.  Mary had been so very beautiful in her white gown and flimsy veil.  And he... Well, he had not been in the best shape thanks to a certain best friend of his.  But Mary had been gracious, as always, accepting and forgiving him.  Loving him when he didn't deserve her.  But, as he kissed little Mary on the cheek, he found the pain of losing his wife was no longer as sharp as it had once been.  It was now a seemingly constant, dull ache, soothed only by the sweet girl he now held in his arms.  A part of herself Mary had left behind for him so she would never be forgotten or truly far from his heart.  In spite of all that he had suffered, he regretted none of it.  He had loved, and was loved in return.  And he was glad his friend had finally found that same joy.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Holmes said, eyes shining as he slid the diamond ring onto Irene's finger.   "Wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Judge Thomas announced, smiling fondly at the couple.  "You may now kiss..."

Once again the judge was cut off by an impatient groom.  Holmes leaned in to kiss Irene, savoring the sweetness of her soft lips.  They broke apart when their small party of attendants began to applaud.  Mary even clapped her little hands together and began to laugh.

It was quite the picturesque scene as the party left the courthouse.  Two carriages were waiting to take them all back to Baker Street.  As Holmes was helping Irene up, a man brushed past him rather roughly, enough to cause a brief flare of pain in his bad shoulder.  Whipping his head about, he spotted the man who was looking back at him.  A chill ran through Holmes.  Those eyes, he'd seen them before.  He was sure of it.

"Something wrong?" Irene asked from within the carriage, pulling him from his trance-like state and bringing his attention back to her.

"No.  It's nothing, my love," he said, forcing a smile.  He glanced back once more in the direction of the stranger, but he had vanished into the crowd.   With a sigh, he hoisted himself up into the carriage.  "Driver," he called, giving his wife a devilish grin and taking her hand in his, "take us home."

Up and down Baker Street, soft trills of music could be heard leading to Ms. Hudson's boarding house.  The parlor had been cleared specifically for the dancing couples that twirled about the room, swaying to the music that played through the phonograph.  Wine glasses had been abandoned in favor of the current song, surely a favorite among those present.  Laughter and lively conversation competed with the notes that floated through the air.  Despite all this, Holmes' gaze scarcely left his new bride.  Irene noticed, and her cheeks bloomed a becoming shade of pink.  A rare, but welcome sight indeed.  "How are you this evening, Mrs. Holmes?"

"Quite well, Mr. Holmes," she smiled demurely, looking up through her thick lashes at her new husband.  "How are you?"

Holmes placed a kiss on her nose.  "I am in raptures, my darling.  Although, I am wondering when I get to steal you away?"

As the song finished, Irene kissed his cheek, her breath warm as her answer brushed his ear.  "Soon."

He watched as she sauntered across the room to ask his brother for a dance.  Holmes shook his head.  Damn that woman and her teasing!

The sound of his niece momentarily tore his attention away from his bride.  He turned to see Watson and little Mary stretching her arms out eagerly for her Uncle Holmes.  Only too happy to oblige, he took her from Watson who said, "Do you know what your brother has given my daughter?"

"I assume by your tone of annoyance you are not speaking of the fine Parisian gown the little princess is wearing?"

"No, the dress is lovely.  It's the nickname he has given her that I find so displeasing."

Holmes raised an eyebrow, looking to Mary as if she might have an answer.  But she simply smiled at him, showing off her few baby teeth.   Holmes sighed and turned back to Watson.  "If I may be so bold as to ask..."

"Sherly!" Watson cried.  "It doesn't even make sense."

"Actually, old fellow, it makes perfect sense.  After all, that is what he has called me for years."

"What does that..."  Holmes watched as the realization dawned over Watson's face. The young father groaned.  "Sherly is short for Sherlock.  Well, I am sorry, darling," he sighed, stroking Mary's blond curls.  "I knew I'd regret giving you that name one day, I just had no idea it would be this soon."

"Pay no attention to him, Princess.  You have a fine name," he assured her proudly, glancing at Watson in mock disgust.  "And to think I was going to name my firstborn after you, you bast-"

"Be nice," Watson scolded.   Mary had already started speaking a few words and he did not want her picking up her uncle's foul language.  Not just yet, at least, for he was afraid it would be unavoidable before long.  "Your firstborn, indeed," he continued with a laugh.  "I can't hardly imagine you as a father.   I never imagined you married either, or how was it you so elegantly phrased it, entering into eternal purgatory?"

"I said no such thing."

"In any case, you've proved me wrong on both counts.  You are wonderful with Mary, and I've never seen you happier than I have today.  Congratulations, old boy."

"Thank you, my dear Watson.  But if you will now excuse me," he said, handing a very sleepy Mary back to her father, "I believe I owe my wife this dance."

One moment Irene was chatting with Mrs. Hudson, and the next she was being pulled into her husband's embrace as the pair began to waltz about the room.  "Now this seems familiar," he teased, "though I can't quite seem to place it."

"Prague," she said with a demure smile.  "I was after the Prime Minister's crystal, and you were after a certain thief."

"Ah, yes.   And I caught her, did I not?"

"You did indeed, Mr. Holmes.  Though I never thought I would give myself up so easily."

"Easily?" Holmes chuckled.  "My dear, life with you has been anything but easy."

"I'm afraid that won't change, dear husband."

Sherlock held her a bit closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  "Nor would I want it to, dearest wife."

A pair of blue eyes watched from the window, unseen by the blissful patrons of 221B Baker Street.  "Enjoy your fairytale now, Mr. Holmes," muttered the stranger, "for you won't be getting a happily ever after."