John's POV
The airport was a full hour away from the church, and I spent the entire ride trying to glean any sort of information of where we were going. Every question I asked was just answered with his infamous crooked smile. "I'll tell you when we get to the airport," Sherlock finally answered.
I huffed, still dissatisfied with his answer. The familiar warmth of his cheek pressed into my shoulder as he curled up next to me. I encircled my arm around him, letting his head drop to my chest. I felt his hand intertwine with mine and then begin to fiddle with my fingers.
His top raven hair tickled my neck, coiling this way and that. I watched him in blissful silence as he played with my hand, the matching gold bands glinting in the light. The hour of travel passed quickly, despite the anticipation of the unknown.
The cabbie had been paid for in advance and wished us well as we stepped out of the cab. We thanked him before he finally left back for London. The airport loomed in front of us, people bustling past. Sherlock rolled our suitcase to a stop next to me.
"We're at the airport, love. Now would be as good time as any to tell me where our honeymoon is going to be," I prompted. He gave me a lazy smile, reaching for my hand. "Do you remember that night, a month or so before we got together when we ended up watching shows together?"
I nodded, remembering the night well. "We ended up talking for hours into the night, about our hopes and dreams, our lives." Neither of us had breached much into the past that night. I thought I might've kissed him that night, I just hadn't had the nerve to.
"You told me you'd never been to France. That it was the one place you'd always wanted to go, but never had. I told you that I'd been there before and that you would love it." He gave a shy smile as my mouth dropped open. "You mean to tell me, that we're going to France for our honeymoon?" I asked, turning to face him fully. His pupils were blown wide, his face soft and open.
"We'll spend a week in Paris before traveling down to the Riviera. If I remember correctly, that was a large part of why you wanted to go." Of course, he remembered correctly, he was Sherlock.
I pulled him down, crashing my lips to his. His other hand flew from the suitcase, coming to cup my cheek. I broke away, our lips still just centimeters away. "You, you are incredible. France is wonderful, anywhere is wonderful with you, but," I paused, shaking my head and smiling.
"I only ever told you that once. Just once. Over a year ago, and you remembered. Not only did you remember, but you turned that once sentence of information into our honeymoon." He smiled proudly.
"Yes, now come on, we'll miss our flight if we just stand here snogging all afternoon." I laughed as he grabbed the suitcase, and began walking inside. I followed, still in awed shock. He was so brilliant and so kind. People rarely let themselves see this side of him, the public prefers him as a high-functioning sociopath. But that isn't the case at all. It never was, and never will be.
Airport security went about as quickly and painlessly as usually. Which is to say, long and boring. Once we were through, however, it was a straight shot to the gate.
Sherlock practically fell into a seat, huffing. I took a seat next to him, setting our carry on bag in front of us. "The plane takes off at six, so we've got about half an hour left. Are you hungry? I can grab some food before we leave." Sherlock asked, glancing around at the fast food shops near us.
"Sure, love. That would be great." He left, kissing me briefly in a goodbye. It wasn't long before I heard a voice calling my name, but the voice wasn't Sherlock's. I looked up, startled. The woman I'd met in the waiting room of Sherlock's psychiatrist was standing in front of me. She'd been the one to unknowingly convince me to propose. She'd said that sometimes, people just know when it's right to propose, regardless of time. "Oh, hi! Alexis, right?" She nodded affirmingly, smiling faintly.
"Yeah, how are you? I heard about the engagement, and I must say congratulations." I shook her hand, rising up out of my seat. "Yeah, actually, the wedding was today. We're on our way to our honeymoon right now, actually." She grinned, and the two of us made small talk for a while longer.
"Thank you, Alexis. What you said that day, it's actually what convinced me to propose. You were right. I knew back then, and I know I was right." She smiled again, dipping her head. "Sometimes people need to hear it aloud before they believe it."
The two of us talked for some time before she left, making her way to a terminal just a few down. Sherlock eventually popped back in, carrying a bag of food. "The flight should be boarding any second. Seeing as we have first class tickets, we can go ahead and just eat this on the plane." I whirled to him, my eyebrows shooting up.
"We have first class tickets?" I was incredulous, though it wasn't too much of a shock. Sherlock did love his luxury. "Yes, darling. Our name is a door opener," he winked at me as I rolled my eyes. I couldn't stop myself from smiling though, hearing the phrase 'our name' roll off his tongue.
Sherlock was right, nearly as soon as he finished speaking, first-class passengers were asked to board. "You really didn't have to get first class seats, it's usually for business people anyway." Sherlock frowned as we boarded with the rest of first class. "But I wanted to, you only get to honeymoon once."
We quickly found our seats, black and white seats near the front. I shrugged as we settled in, waiting for the other passengers to board. Sherlock's head fell comfortably onto my shoulder. A few people glared at us on their way past, but not enough to bother me. I felt the weight of Sherlock's head lift, however, after the third stare. His muscles had begun to tense under the judgment.
"Love," I murmured, my fingers brushing along his knuckles. He sighed, his eyes closing. "Who cares about them, hm? How great can they be if they're so uptight? You can deduce them if it would help." He nodded, beginning to relax again.
His hand laced with mine, squeezing it. We got another weird look, and Sherlock began making blunt, and quite frankly, rude deductions about them under his breath, so only I could hear. I laughed at each one, watching as his eyes began to light up with amusement.
"You're adorable," I whispered to him as the last few passengers boarded. He flushed and buried his head in my shoulder. I chuckled, wrapping my arm around him as the safety videos began to play.
Finally, after the many videos and announcements, we took off. Neither Sherlock or I were particularly scared of flying, so the experience wasn't anything phenomenal. Once we'd reached altitude, Sherlock pulled out a set of earbuds. He handed me one as he plugged it into his phone for music.
Those who didn't know Sherlock were often surprised by his music tastes, but I loved it. Most people usually assumed it was all classical music, but he listened to a fair about of more modern music as well. He began playing a song, resting his head against my shoulder again. He bumped his knee into mine playfully. I returned it, giggling quietly. It continued until we were almost unable to contain our laughter.
Minutes stretched into hours, peacefully ticking by to the haunting lyrics of the music. The plane was to touch down around eight thirty, right on time. Despite the long day, I wasn't at all tired. Especially not with what was to come. Both the night and honeymoon. The airport seemed just like any other airport, the main difference being the language spoken.
No amount of high school French classes could've prepared me for the flurry of fast-paced strings of language spouting from every direction. "I'm assuming you can speak French." Sherlock smiled, nodding. "Obviously."
We quickly found our luggage and began making our way towards the line of cabs waiting to take people all over the city. "Our hotel is near the Eiffel Tower. I was thinking we could begin our sight-seeing tomorrow if that's alright with you." I shook my head, incredulous at how Sherlock managed to get such luxury deals. We'd already found a cab, surprisingly easily.
"Like I said before, our name opens doors, hotels aren't an exception," he turned to the cabbie, speaking fluently before dropping back into the seat with me. I chuckled, shaking my head. The cab peeled off into the streets, the entirety of Paris coming into view. My lips parted in awe as the cab navigated through the city.
The sun had already gone down, leaving the cobblestone streets glowing in the golden lights of street lamps. Small and cozy shops were nestled into every corner, warm and welcoming. I grinned, still in awe as the cab rolled to a stop in front of the hotel. Stepping out of the cab, my gaze fell upon the Eiffel tower, so close by. It loomed in the sky, lights setting the sky ablaze in the deep twilight. I stepped up onto the curb, still looking all around.
A warm hand slid into mine, and I turned to him. "Is it considered inappropriate to snog someone in the middle of Paris?" I asked, not really caring what answer I would get. The small smile on his face widened, his crows feet appearing.
"Probably. Is that an answer you'll adhere to?" I shook my head, pulling him down to me. "Never." I could feel his smile in between each kiss before he finally pulled away. "We really should check in. There's plenty of time for that once we're checked in." I grabbed the suitcase, following him inside.
I was incredibly grateful that Sherlock could speak such fluid French, everyone spoke so quickly, it was nearly overwhelming. The hotel was lavish, decked out in luscious violets and deep reds. I could only imagine how much it cost. I didn't have much time to really think about it though before Sherlock was tugging at my arm to the elevator.
We found our room quickly, well, more of our set of rooms. It was a penthouse, really, with a full kitchen, sitting room, and a balcony. A balcony with a splendid view of the Eiffel Tower. Sherlock pursed his lips together, trying his hardest not to smile. "Do you like it? I knew you'd want a view of the Eiffel Tower, and-" I crashed my lips to him, cutting him off.
"It's marvelous. It's all perfect. You're perfect. You are the most romantic and loving husband I could've even ask for." He smiled, pulling away. "I'm glad. Why don't you go take a look," he prompted. His eyes were so full of affection and love that it was a wonder that I restrained myself enough to not drag him into the bedroom right then.
But I followed his request, setting my arms on the iron railing. I heard a rustle as Sherlock peeled off his jacket, exposing his violet shirt. It was my favorite on him, to his knowledge. It wasn't wrong at all, the fabric fit snugly enough to show off his figure. He came to stand behind me as I admired the view.
Sherlock chuckled as I pulled him to me, bringing our lips together. "We," I whispered between each kiss, "are having our wedding night, in Paris," I laughed, still incredulous. He giggled, practically high with excitement.
"Yes we are," he murmured darkly. I pulled back just enough to get a full look at him, hair messy from snogging, swollen red lips, a red flush on his cheeks, and a playful glint in his eye. I kissed him again, his tongue rolling against mine.
"Mon coeur bat pour toi," he whispered. I recognized enough of it to understand it. "My heart beats for you," I repeated, and he grinned. "Je demande votre touche," the words were spoken against my lips, creating an odd sensation. I couldn't stop myself from kissing him, again and again, getting light headed and giddy. I eventually pulled away, my hands resting dangerously low on his hips.
"Well, John Watson-Holmes, are you just going to stand there?" He teased, his arms locked around my neck lazily. I grinned and dragged him into the lavish bedroom.
AN: HECKING HECK Y'ALL THE NEXT CHAPTER IS GOING TO BE SUUUUUPER LONG!!! I'm very excited for it though, it was so much fun to write!
Okay so today marks the official 1 year anniversary(?) of when I published the first chapter of Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles. A lot of things have happened in my life in that time, but I still have this story, and you, my readers. Thank you for that, and thank you for being a rock for me in a hard year. Here's to 2018 being better for us all.