Baker Street Boys

10

*We have FLUFF things here and by the time that i wrote this story it was the day Queen Elizabeth II died at Balmoral Castle, her beloved summer residence in Scotland. Have a silence for our Queen.

She will always remain here with all of us.

*Enjoy your reading sweetheart. ;)

'You ready for it?'

'No.'

Sherlock paused outside the door when he heard John and Lestrade talking on the other side. They had been ready to go home after some gruelling paperwork when John had disappeared from his sight. Sherlock frowned, wondering what it was the two men were talking about. What on Earth was John not ready for?

Lestrade laughed at John's response and Sherlock could hear John slapping the DI's arm. 'Come off it. What if he doesn't like it? Or what if he says no? You heard him when he gave his speech. Oh God, what am I thinking...'

'Relax John. Deep breaths. He'll love it. And trust me, he'll say yes. He loves you more than anything.'

'You sure?'

'For God's sake John...'

'You know him Greg. He'll think it sentimental drivel; he said so himself! God, I'm such an idiot.'

'John Watson, I'll punch you if you don't go through with this. The ring is lovely, you're lovely - shut up - and Sherlock is absolutely perfect for you. He'll say yes.'

It was silent for a moment in the other room and Sherlock had frozen.

John... ring... a ring. He had a ring. A RING!

His mind kept repeating those words over and over again so he nearly fell backwards when the door suddenly opened and John and Lestrade came out of Lestrade's office, still talking. John nearly crashed into Sherlock.

'Sherlock!' John exclaimed, freezing at the sight of the taller man near the door, standing completely still. 'How long have...'

'Yes.'

Nobody moved for a second after Sherlock's outburst. John and Sherlock kept staring at each other. Greg kept looking at them both, unable to supress his grin. This had to be the weirdest marriage proposal he had ever heard of and it was goddamned perfect. Leave it to them to completely mess it up and get it right at the same time.

'Sorry,' John managed to get out. 'You...'

'Yes,' Sherlock repeated, unblinking. 'I want to... with you. Yes. I do.'

John says nothing for a moment, nodding quietly to himself, before moving his hand to his trouser pocket. The box is simple, black, a square and horribly cliché and yet it makes Sherlock's heart skip a beat when John opens it to reveal a white gold band.

'Okay then,' John mutters and he takes Sherlock's hand in his own to slide on the ring. 'Yes?'

'Yes.'