Chapter 2

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It was 7:20. Mary and I were sitting at a table waiting for a waiter. And I couldn't even begin to describe how beautiful Mary looked tonight. She wore a gorgeous purple dress and she had done something with her hair that jsut left me speachless. "You look beatiful tonight, Mary. Not that you dont look beatiful any other night its just..."

"What are you acting all weird for? It's just dinner."

"Well I just think it's a special night. That's all." I smiled at her. She smiled back. She truly is the best thing that could have happened to me.


7:20. John would be here by now. I was already at the restaurant, wearing my tuxedo. Now all I needed were I few more materials... Not that were going to be hard to get. I was a "waiter" after all. First I needed eyeliner. I managed to get a menu and proceed with my plan.

"Eh...Bonjour  Madam," I said to a woman sitting at a table, in my best French accent. "eh, would you like to try one of wines?" As she looked at the menu I took the eyeliner that she left on the table and left.

Next I would need some glasses. I quickly looked at all the people in the restaurant and saw my next target. Before I went my target, I made a quick stop in the mens bathroom. No less than 30 seconds and I was out. I had drawn on two small lines on my upper lip, meant to resemble a mustache. I walked over to my target and pointed in the opposite direction he was facing, giving me enough time to take the glasses he had left on the table. Why did people leave so many things on tables? Don't they know how easy it is for someone to steal them? Obviously not.

There. Four tables away from where I was standing, was John, though I couldn't see who was with. "Lady friend, lady friend, lady friend." Mycroft's words kept buzzing in my head. I had to clear my mind before I got to John. Three tables. My heart started to pound inside my chest. Two tables. Was I excited to him again? One table. 

I was


There had been a bit of awkward silence every now and then. I kept trying to keep the mood light before I proposed. I hadn't really been thinking about what to say. So I just said the first thing that came to mind.

"Do I look gay to you?", I suddenly blurted out.

"I sure hope not." Mary replied, trying to hold in a laugh. "John you're just about as straight as stick. At least I'm pretty sure you are. Don't tell me you're feeling a bit...confused."

"No it's just last time I visited Mrs.Hudson..we had a bit of a...conversation. I don't know why but that woman believes I'm gay. I mean, she thought Sherlock was my boyfriend!" I turned around. I thought I saw him. 

"John you o-

"Bonjour to the lovely couple. Would you like try one of our signature wines?"

Our waiter had a French accent, but before I could tell no, he shoved a menu in my face.

"Umm, you know I do-"

My heart stopped. I couldn't breath. As soon as I looked at the waiters face, all of these emotions flooded my body.


This was it. John looked at me and then he seemed to have frozen. He was completely still. I don't even think he was breathing. Before I could say something else, he seemed to have found his voice.

"Two years", he said. His voice sounded hoarse."Two years. I  cried over you. I went to your bloody funeral! And for what? Do you have any idea how much pain I went through?" He seemed to be waiting for a response. But this was the first time I had seen him face to face. I wanted to respond to him. I really did, but my mind had more pressing matters.

"Umm, just one question really quick. Excuse me." I said as I took the glass of water that on the table that I could only assume belonged to John's lady friend. I got one of the cloth napkins and dipped it in the water. I raised the wet cloth to my upper lip, rubbing it over the spots where I had marked myself earlier. I took one last glace at John before breaking into a smile."Are you really  gonna keep that?" I asked as I gestured towards John's thick mustache. It looked like a giant, hairy caterpillar had fallen asleep on John's face. I couldn't help bursting into a fit of laughter before John had tackled me down over the table.

The next thing I was aware of was the weight on my body and the screams of the people around me, trying to get John off of me.


Rage. Rage was the only thing I could feel. I suffered for two years thinking Sherlock was dead. But was he? Oh of course not! It would have to take a lot more than a psychopathic criminal and jumping off of a building to kill the WORLD'S BIGGEST COCK! And of course the first thing he asks is if I'm going to keep my mustache. I couldn't control myself, so I tackled him.

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