How Could You? (A Johnlock Fanfic)

Take me to Paris

"Surprise Sherl."

We stepped into the theatre and immediately noticed the huge banners for the Choregies d'Orange, which was apparently what we had come to see. Taking our seats in the front row, John grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze, possibly of excitement. It was only a few moments later that the music began. Sweet, elegant, music filled the atmosphere, until it suddenly changed into a dynamic and daring symphony that seemed to resonate with me. I Listened greedily to every note and, after an hour that seemed like minutes, the music stopped, and a man with a mic entered the stage.

"Bonjour! Hello, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to our incredible music festival. Now, just the other day I was contacted by a man who is very much in love with his partner. He told me that his partner was a talented violinist, and also that he wanted to spring the surprise of a lifetime upon him. So, I am going to ask these two on stage, and hopefully this talented musician will play you all a piece of his beautiful violin music. Without further ado, please welcome to the stage, Dr John Watson, and his boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes!"

 I turned to look at my boyfriend, who was smiling and already standing up. I took his hand and we ascended the steps to the stage.

"So Sherlock, I gather this is all a shock to you. Do you have a piece you would like to play for us all?"

I took the microphone, "Indeed I do, even though his is a shock."

"Do you have a music score or shall we provide you with one?"

"I do not have a music score, and it's ok, because I composed this one myself."

"Well, we are ready when you are."

He beckoned for John to join him to the side of the stage. I picked up a jet black violin and it's matching bow, and rested the instrument on my shoulder. Placing the bow on the string, I began my piece.

High notes mixed with low ones, the sadness felt when I jumped from the roof, the happiness when I  went back to John. The confusion with Mary. The adrenaline of our cases. All rolled into one piece of music, written by me, for my John. The bow dances across the strings in a similar way to violin, and I can feel the vibration of the music against my cheek. Closing my eyes, I continue to play, drowning in the beautiful symphony I was playing. By the time I had finished my piece and I opened my eyes, nearly everyone had been brought to tears. The man led John back on to the stage, who I could see was also crying.

"Well then Sherlock," the man, who's nametag read Phillipe, began, "that was a stunning piece of music. What have you named it?"

I smiled, finally coming up with a suitable title. 

"Bumblebee."

John's POV

"Bumblebee."

Knowing that Sherlock had written this piece for me was astonishing. The music, the beautiful melody, was enough to move me to tears, and it did. I gave a slight nod of the head to Phillipe, and turned to my Kitten, pulling the little box out of my pocket.

"Sherlock." I had been fitted with a microphone before hand, so that I could do this easily. "I have known you for six years now. And for only one of these years have we been together. It seems like such a short time, however I feel that time is fickle, and may be lost at any given moment, so I am going to hope that this will be a good decision, and do it now. Sherlock Holmes, you saved me from the war. When I got home and I was introduced to you, I had nothing but the memories of war and tragic loss, I had forgotten what to love and to be loved was. I had nothing. But little by little you showed me how to live; chasing criminals through London, dinners at Angelo's, solving cases, the adrenaline of the game. Now I realise, the adrenaline never came from the game. It came from being with you. Sherlock, when you threw yourself off that building to save me, I knew that I would never love another again; that incident with Mary proved that. I spent day after day by your grave, giving up on life and wishing to be with you. Ten you came back, and I will be forever thankful that you did, and that you love me too. The fact that you wrote that piece for me is hopefully proof that I am making the right decision." 

I got down onto one knee, opened the little box and gazed up at Sherlock.

"Sherlock Holmes, will you do me the great honour of being my husband?"

Sherlock stood there for a full minute, mouth open, before muttering, "You bastard."

Chuckling in his deep, baritone voice, his hand slipped to his trouser pockets and pulled out a box similar to mine, before kneeling down and whispering, "You beat me to it, the reservation was to propose, you daft bugger. Of course I'll marry you."

And with that I slipped the silver engagement ring onto my Kittens finger, and he slipped his onto mine, before coming right at me with a passionate kiss. The whole crowd erupted in cheers, and we were given a standing ovation. I grabbed my fiancés hand, and we ran out of the theatre to await the cab to take us to Sherlock's restaurant booking, before he kissed me, right there, in the pouring rain.