John stood in front of the mirror, fixing his tie nervously. This was it, the big day. His wedding day. Four months of intense planning finally been put to use. His sister was fixing his suit, smoothing it out with her hands. She smiled at him gently and stood back proudly.
"Relax, John. You look great." She said, noticing his shaking hands.
John gulped and nodded at her, attempting a smile. "I'm trying. Thank you, you uh, you do too."
It was true, Harry's wild curly hair had been tamed into a bun and the top of her head, a few ringlets hanging down. The dress hugged her figure beautifully and the makeup artist had put a butterfly wing of various shades of blue on her eyes, making them pop. John's hair had been combed and he his shoes polished, and he nervously tried to fix his tie again and again.
Harry leaned forward and gently pushed his hands aside. "Here," she said. "Let me."
John gulped and nodded, letting Harry straighten his tie for him. Satisfied it was good, she stepped back to let John see. "Thank you."
"No problem. Now there's a groom out there waiting for you, are you ready?"
John flashed Harry a quick grin. "Yeah, yeah I'm ready. Let's go."
Harry looped her arm through John's and walked out of the room, their feet soon stepping on the grass. As they walked, the sun shone on his face, and in the distance he could see Sherlock standing under the alter of flowers and ribbons, his hands clasped in front of him. Off to the side, a sign read 'Take a seat, not a side.' and John raised an eyebrow at it; he didn't remember putting that there, but it was a nice touch nonetheless. Shaking his head, John continued to walk, the light breeze ruffling his hair. Rows of seats were laid out, the inside seat of each row had a large blue ribbon connecting it to the next row, creating a makeshift isle for John to walk down. The hotel had placed a long blue strip of satin in the isle for John to walk on, matching the colour scheme. Taking a shaky breath, John walked forwards, Harry by his side. He reached the isle and cast a look at all his guests, giving a quick smile to his friends. Suddenly, he caught the eye of someone he had not expected to come- his mother. John blanched and stared at her in shock, why had she come? Was his dad here? His mother waved her hand and urged him to walk, as he was beginning to hold up the process. John coughed and nodded leaning in next to Harry as he walked.
"Why is she here?" He whispered, trying to keep a smile on his face.
Harry's lips stretched into a tight smile and she tried to speak without moving her lips. "I don't know, ask her later!"
John sighed internally and got to the top of the isle, parting ways with Harry to stand next to Sherlock. He could deal with his mother later, all that mattered now was that he was getting married. Harry stood next to Molly, giving her hand a quick squeeze of excitement, trying to keep the smile off her face. The two had really hit it off in the months they'd spent together, and Harry had really brought Molly out of her shell. They had even considered living together as room mates. John took a deep breath and smiled at Sherlock, his heart leaping. He looked gorgeous, thick black hair neatly combed and his suit fitting. Sherlock looked down at him and the corner of his lip turned up slightly, and then he turned to face the minister again.
The minister had honey blonde hair, and looked about thirty. She had kind eyes, and smiled at the two men. She was dressed smartly, but not in typical minister clothes. She held no bible in her hands, but waves of authority and kindness rolled off her.
She glanced around and said, "John and Sherlock, we are gathered here together to witness the love and respect that you have for each other. We are here to witness a commitment of love and happiness." She then cleared her throat and recited a passage well known to her.
"John and Sherlock please face each other and repeat after me.
John, I come here today to join your life for years,
I pledge to be true to you, to respect you,
and to grow with you through the years."
Sherlock cleared his throat and gave John's hand a squeeze.
"John, I come here today to join your life for years,
I pledge to be true to you, to respect you,
and to grow old with you through the years."
The minister smiled a him encouragingly and moved on to the next bit.
"We are many things to each other,
May only those best qualities continue to shine
And may our bond continue to grow stronger."
Sherlock's deep voice stayed calm and steady, although he could feel emotions building up inside him.
"We are many things to each other,
May only those best qualities continue to shine
and may our bond grow stronger."
The woman's soft voice continued on.
"Time may pass, fortune may smile, trials may come;
no matter what we may encounter together,
I vow here today that this love will be my only love.
I will make my home in your heart from this day forward."
"Time may pass, fortune may smile, trials may come;
no matter what we may encounter together,
I vow here today that, uh...oh!That this love will be my only love.
And I will make my home in your heat from this day forward."
Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief that his part was over. He didn't like being told hat to say, he was sure that her words came no where near close to his feelings for John, yet he knew if he tried to phrase them himself he'd do it no justice. He could talk all day about a case, showing where the killer went wrong. He could talk for hours about his mind palace and deduction, but when it came to John there was no words. He just made Sherlock feel complete, simple as.
The minister gave Sherlock a smile and faced John, looking into his stormy blue eyes. He had an impish grin on his face that he was trying to hold down, but Sherlock could feel his excitement in John's grip on his hand, and the way his lips were twitching slightly. The minister said the exact same passage to John, swapping the names. John's voice didn't waver once, and he said every word looking into Sherlock's bright blue eyes.
After John was finished, she held out her hands and turned to the best man. "Do you have the rings?"
Lestrade nodded and pulled two golden rings out of his inside pocket, handing them to the minister, who in turn handed them to John and Sherlock.
"Now," she said, her voice loud and clear. "Let's begin. John Watson, do you take this man, Sherlock Holmes, to be your lawful wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"
John took Sherlock's hand in his and slipped on the ring, tears in his eyes. This was it, the day he'd been waiting for. He laughed shakily and whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "I do."
"And do you, Sherlock Holmes, take this man, John Watson, to be your lawful wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"
Sherlock's voice rand loud and clear, and John could see the smile spreading across his face. He slipped the ring on smoothly. "I do."
The minister nodded toward them and waved a hand at them. "By the power invested in me, I now declare you man and man. You may now kiss your husband."
Sherlock winked and bent his head down, his lips fitting against John's like a missing puzzle piece. He kept it short and sweet, for he didn't like to be watched by everyone, but John could feel the love pouring off him, from the gentle pressure of his lips to the grip of Sherlock's hand on his hips. When he pulled back and took John's hand, the small crowd cheered and smiled, all clapping for them. Even Anderson and his plus one, Sally Donovan, were clapping quietly, reluctant smiles on their faces. Everyone rushed up to hug them and offer congratulations as they walked back down the isle. Sherlock smiled politely and thanked everyone, whereas John was grinning and giving everyone a hug back, feeling so elated he felt he could burst. He caught the eye of his mother and his smile wavered, but she stood at the back row and mouthed 'later' to him, allowing him to carry on with the well wishers.
After he'd shook hands with most of the crowd, John raised his hand. "Okay everyone. We're done with the boring part, ready for the party? To the Rose Room!"
The crowd of family and friends cheered and marched toward the building, desperate for warmth. After some hallways and a few turns they ended up in the Rose Room and John felt the breath being sucked out of his lungs as he looked at it. It had been decorated beautifully, Blue lights on each table and each beam of the ceiling, casting a beautiful light on everything. Each table had a lily or two in a vase, with a deep blue ribbon tied around it. There was a single silver flower in each vase too, matching with the trimming on the ocean blue table cloth. The seats were white and comfy looking, and people quickly began to group together and sit down. His mother however stood stranded, looking like a deer in the headlights. John sighed and beckoned her over to sit with him, Sherlock, Lestrade, Harry and Molly. She looked at him gratefully and sat down in the remaining seat, glad that John had the biggest table.
She looked at him and reached for his hand, flinching when he began to pull it away. "I'm sorry, John. I really am. I should have told you I was coming, but your father didn't want me to. Said It was stupid to come, and that it would only encourage your... behaviour."
"Why's you come, then?" John asked, his words sharp like a knife.
"Because...you're my son. And I love you. And I'm not going to miss your big day, even if it is with a man." She looked at him and attemted a smile, feeling the eyes of the table on her.
John shook his head and scoffed. "What about when Harry came out? You weren't so accepting then. Why now?"
"When Harriet-"
"Harry, mum." Harry corrected her.
"Sorry, when Harry came out, your father didn't expect it. He wasn't very tolerating, I however...It bothered me at first, but I gradually learned to accept it. I even got past the drinking. Oh, well done about that Harriet, I'm proud of you. Anyway, now that your father knows you're gay, too, well he just couldn't believe he had two gay kids. So he didn't come. For a while, I didn't want to come either. But then I realized, I don't want to lose you. Either of you. So I've come to make amends, to apologize. Can you two forgive me?" Her voice was pleading, and John sighed and closed his eyes.
Well, she had made an effort. She'd even brought them a gift, and she was here to try and patch things up. Why not? He gave her a tiny smile. "Okay, I'll forgive you. Thank you for coming and making the effort, it means a lot."
John's mother grinned and gave his hand a squeeze. "Thank you. Harry, dear? What do you say?"
Harry took a swig of champagne. "Eh, why not. I forgive you."
"Excellent! Oh I'm so sorry for the way your father and I have acted, it's horrible and I plan to make up for it every second till I die. I'm sorry kids, but I can't undo what's been done. So how about we just try and enjoy ourselves?"
Sherlock placed his hand on John's knee under the table. John smiled at his mother. "Yeah, that sounds great."
Sherlock lifted his glass to John's then raised it to his lips, the golden liquid seeping down his throat. The room looked amazing, he had to admit, and the people seemed to be having a good time. The music being played wasn't half as bad as he thought it would be, and he even found that his foot was tapping with the beat. John intertwined his fingers with Sherlock and the table began to talk, everyone pitching in and laughing until the atmosphere felt less awkward and more easy-going.
As the room was filled with music and chatter, Lestrade stood up and tapped a spoon against his glass, calling attention to everyone. The music quietened and the chatter ceased and Greg began to speak. "Thanks. Uh, well when Sherlock first told me he and John were a couple, I was fairly shocked. I didn't think anyone would ever get with him! But I was happy for him and John nonetheless. And I, uh.. I never actually thought I'd be here, on this day, as the best man at two of my best friends' wedding, but I am and I'm happy for that. Although I pity John on his choice; Sherlock is not the easiest of people to get along with." The crowd snickered and murmured i agreement and Lestrade laughed. "I spent a long time wondering how to describe Sherlock with the respect due to a man on his wedding day; how to strike the right tone of sincerity, praise and warmth. Sherlock is a man who truly defies description. I could speak for an hour – don't worry, I'm not going to – and when I finished we'd be no closer to grasping the essential essence of my dear friend … And yet, miraculously, he can be very neatly summed up with a single, internationally recognized hand gesture. So Good Luck John, you'll need it. I hope you two have a long and happy marriage together filled with lots of um, lots of good times. And friends. And stuff like that. Yeah, uh, thanks! Everyone can, you know, go dance and stuff now."
Greg sat back down and everyone laughed and clapped, John snickering in his seat. Sherlock raised a dark eyebrow at Greg and cracked the hint of a smile. "Not a bad speech, Graham."
"It's Greg."
"Greg. Whatever." Sherlock said, cracking a grin.
Lestrade shook his head and scoffed. "You are a right bastard sometimes."
Mycroft's soft drawl came from behind him. "Oh believe me, I know. Try living with him."
Greg gave him a smile and ran a hand through his hair. "I think I'd commit homicide."
"Ii came close many times, trust me." Mycroft set his umbrella aside against a pillar and tilted his head to Lestrade. This would either end very badly or very well. "Care to dance? And by dance I mean walk over to an empty table and complain about this music."
Greg was up out his chair before Mycroft even finished his sentence. He blushed, and silently thanked God for the blue lights hiding it. "Yeah. Yeah I'd like to."
The two walked over to a deserted table and began talking, Greg shy at first but quickly opening up and chatting normally, like he would an old friend. As Sherlock walked, he could've sworn he saw something he'd not seen in years: a genuine smile on Mycroft's lips.
John leaned in and whispered in his ear, just loud enough to be heard over the music. "Sherlock."
"Hm?"
"He left his umbrella. Oh my God, he never leaves his umbrella."
Sherlock raised his lips in a lopsided grin. "I think Mycroft is just realized how long he's been alone. I wouldn't bet he's had these feelings in a while."
"Like when I met you then." John said simply, nudging up next to him.
Sherlock looked at John and smiled. "Yes. Quite."
Suddenly a tall muscled man with short red hair and deep brown eyes walked up to their table and stood behind Molly. He smiled and offered her his hand. "Hi. I'm Alistair. Life's short, and you're pretty, so would you like to dance?"
Molly put a hand to her mouth and blushed, a little giggle coming out. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and stood up, taking his hand. They walked out to the dance floor, where he took her hand in his and moved, forcing her to loosen up. He twirled her around, making her laugh in shock. She tripped in her heels, and he caught her and dipped her down, like in a movie. His brown eyes were alight with mischief, and Molly couldn't help but feel her spirit lifting as she danced with him.
"I'm Molly, by the way," She said.
"Molly. I like it. It's cute." Alistair grinned, spinning her more.
Sherlock leaned in next to John's ear. "Friend of yours?"
"Yeah, uh...from the army." John said, dazed. He watched the two dance and laugh and shook his head with a smile. "Imagine that. I feel like Molly's growing up."
"Well that's not a weird paternal instinct at all." Sherlock said, chuckling at John's glare.
"Shut up."
Sherlock rubbed his thumb over John's palm and scanned the crowd, eyes lighting up when he spotted who he wanted. "Ah! Mother! Father, over here. I'd like you to meet John, my husband."
John felt chills run down his spine when Sherlock said the word 'husband'. It made it all feel so official, like Sherlock really was his. He glanced up to see an elderly couple, both very classy looking. The woman had short white hair and narrowed eyes, but a smile on her lips, like she would trip you but then help you up. The man had dark curly hair like Sherlock's, but his eyes were green instead of blue. He looked intelligent and a little bit friendly, more so than his wife anyway. He topped his hat and put it back on, giving a tiny smile to his son and John. Sherlock's mother stared at John with her haughty eyes, looking over him.
Finally, she raised an eyebrow. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"
John's face broke into a grin and Sherlock chuckled. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."
The woman's hardened face softened and she almost smiled. Leaning down, she gave Sherlock a quick hug and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hello, son."
"Hello, Mum. Having an awful time, I presume?"
"Oh, obviously. Dreadful music, too many young people, not enough people at that. I assume the food will be meek, but at least the decorations are nice."
"I like it," Sherlock's dad said in a gruff voice. He stood next to his wife, who was dressed sharply in a cream blouse, grey blazer and lilac pencil skirt. She wore no hat, but the large opal jewellery on her wrists was enough to tie the outfit together.
"So, uh, lovely to meet you...?" John asked, waiting for their names. All the time he knew Sherlock, he'd scarcely mentioned any family but Mycroft.
"Just call us Mrs and Mr Holmes, please. Don't want to give too much away, never know who might be watching."
John would've been certain that she was serious if it weren't for her slight upturned lips. "Okay."
After some more talking, Sherlock's mother gave him a kiss on the cheek and stood up, announcing that she and his father had to leave for some business related issues.
Sherlock faced John. "Well? What do you think?"
"They're definitely...something else."
"Something else? How boring." Sherlock muttered.
John placed his hand on Sherlock's thigh and sighed, leaning into him. "Sorry."
"It's alright. Although, could you move you hand? If we have to dance soon I am not going up there with a hard on." Sherlock whispered, his hand slinking round John's waist.
Harry looked at him and winked, flashing a grin. "I'll just leave so you two can flirt and kiss and stuff. I'm sure there's an experimental straight girl somewhere." With that, she got up and left, leaving Sherlock and John on their own.
"So...," John said, smiling slyly. "Move the hand you say?" Discreetly, John moved his hand up ever higher over Sherlock's crotch.
Sherlock groaned and shoved his hand away. "John, you are the biggest tease on the entire earth. Wait till we go on our honeymoon to tease me, I'm not sure how much I can control myself right now."
"I don't know...I wanna see you lose it," John said, his eyes alight. He put his hand on Sherlock's crotch again, squeezing gently.
Sherlock, knowing what would happen if John continued, hissed and hit his hand away. "Bloody hell, John! We have to dance and get pictures and videos and cake, do not give me a boner!"
John burst into laughed and snuggled into Sherlock, a smile upon his lips. "Just you wait till the honeymoon."
Sherlock shivered at the thought. "Trust me, I'm waiting. Painfully waiting."
"It'll be worth it."
"Oh, I know it will. That's why I need this wedding to hurry up and finish."
Currently, the videographer was moving about the hall, getting everyone's messages and dancing on tape. He was getting everyone to say something about the wedding, or about the boys, so they could watch it whenever they wanted. The photographer has already taken some photos, most of John and Sherlock at the alter. Now, he was getting some of the guests, particularly Molly and Alistair. He'd snapped a few of Mycroft and Lestrade laughing, and even got a few of John and Sherlock when they weren't looking.
As the tune changed to 'Iris', John took Sherlock's hand and stood up. "C'mon. We have to dance. It's our song."
Sherlock grumbled and stood up, John trailing him to the dance floor by the hand. Everyone else had cleared room for them, and the lights had been dimmed. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, the action stretching his small body. Sherlock smirked and bent his head, forehead touching John's. He wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him close, swaying with the music. They stood there, staring into each others eyes. The guests watching them found themselves with hands over their hearts, the pure love rolling off them almost too much to bare. As the song went on, everything seemed to melt away for John, and it was only him and Sherlock in the room. This moment, this moment right now was exciting and beautiful, and John could feel Sherlock in his arms, their bodies pressed together. There had never been anything that felt so right before. The photographer and videographer were each stationed at different spots, catching the moment. As the song ended, John kissed Sherlock and pulled back, their small crowd clapping again.
"Ah. How touching." Said an extremely familiar voice.
John looked up and gasped, his eyes going wide. There, standing in front of him was Irene Addler, back from the dead. Her long dark hair was handing loosely down her back in curly, and her smokey eye makeup brought out the haughtiness of her eyes. Her prominent cheekbones stood out as she pursed her thin lips. "Did I miss the fun bit?"
"Just a bit." Said Sherlock, looking at her. "Glad you could come."
"Well, I couldn't miss it. I had to prove to John I knew he was gay." She said simply, winking at John.
Aghast, John faced Sherlock and pointed at her. "But the, but she was, but how?!"
"Oh, that? I saved her." Sherlock said, dismissing it.
"But why did you invite her?!" John said exasperatedly, his fist itching to punch Sherlock.
"You invited Anderson! I get to invite her." He said, narrowing his eyes.
"You know what? Fine, whatever. I don't even care. But if she gets in even one of our photos..."
Irene placed her hands up and smiled devilishly. "I wouldn't dream of it. It's a shame you've snapped up my Sherlock, I really was hoping we could give it another go."
"Sorry, but I'm a married man now," He said slowly, his low voice making her smile.
"That might just add to the spice." She said, winking.
John threw his hands up. "We have guests here! Stop flirting! And stay away from my husband! And for the love of God, don't get any of this on video!" John directed the last part to the videographer, standing slightly scared with a large camera in hand.
As John stormed off to cool down, Sherlock followed him. Sensing an opportunity, Harry stepped forward and thrust her chest forward. This Irene woman was hot. She was wearing a daring low cut red dress with a plummeting neckline, and Harry liked what she saw. "Hi. I'm Harry. I think you're hot."
Irene raised an eyebrow and looked Harry's curvy figure up and down. Definitely liking what she saw. "Irene. I could say the same about you."
"You like girls?" Harry grinned and let her eyes trail down Irene's figure again, then back to her eyes.
"Oh that depends. You look a little...safe for me."
"Safe? Oh, Honey, you've got me all wrong." Harry pulled her bobble and kirbies out, unleashing a golden mane of curls and ringlets that fell down her back. She shook it free and tilted her head, giving her most smouldering gaze. "They wouldn't let me get the dress with the thigh slit. Or the plunge neckline. Boring bunch, really."
Irene's eyes widened and her lips stretched into a smile. "Shame, I would've liked to see that. Still, can you handle pain?"
Harry stepped forward and looked Irene dead in the eye. She whispered, her words soft. "I can handle everything you've got."
Irene shivered and put her hand on Harry's hip, leaning into her ear. "Come home with me. We'll see how good you really are."
Before she could reply, Irene sauntered off, leaving Harry standing on the dance floor. She shook her head and laughed, feeling a sugar high. "Now that's a woman."
Sherlock stood behind John, his chin laying on John's shoulder. He hugged him tightly until he felt him relax. "I'm sorry. But I wanted a surprise. Some excitement. I wanted to see the outcome."
"It's alright. I just thought she was dead and then she just appears out of nowhere...it was just hard to take it all in."
"Well, it looks like your sister's gotten pretty close with her, if nothing else." Sherlock said, eyeing Harry on the dance floor. "She's like a lesbian Captain Jack Harkness."
"Who?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
"Doctor Who and Torchwood character. Nevermind." John said, leaning back into Sherlock.
As the night went on and they cut the cake, Sherlock was glad when it eventually began to die out. He and John both made speeches and, satisfied, tidied up some stuff while they were waiting on their cab. John thanked everyone at the door, grimacing when he saw Harry's arm linked with Irene's. When they were finally all gone, Mrs Hudson, Molly and Lestrade offered to stay behind and tidy the rest up with the staff, refusing to let John stay and help them. Sherlock dragged John out and into the cab, their suitcases already packed and in the boot. Mycroft had offered to pay for their honeymoon, and they were going via private jet. John felt strange, going in something so fancy, but he felt like it was a treat they deserved. They'd decided to go to Italy, since neither of them had been before. It had good weather, good food and John couldn't think of anywhere better. His hand reached out and clasped Sherlock's.
"How much time do we have in Italy again?" He asked.
Sherlock didn't even blink. "Two weeks. Why?"
"I don't think we'll get much sight seeing done in that time period."
"Why?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
"You're clever. Work it out. Just married, a big private villa with out own bed, and hot tub and en suite and so many places to-"
The realization hit Sherlock and he looked at John with a sudden hunger in his eyes. "Oh. Well, some things are more important than buildings anyway...did I mention how happy I am that it's private? Think of all the possibilities..."
"Only one plane ride away." John leaned next to Sherlock and let his lips graze across his. "Can you wait that long?"
Sherlock put his hand to the back of John's head and pulled him close, his tongue gently brushing across John's. He pushed John back across the car seats until he was almost on top of him kissed down his neck, stopping at his ear. "The question is...can you?"