3 Words 2 End 1 Life
"I love you."
Sherlock saw it coming from the moment that he watched Mary and John interact. They loved each other. That nasty mushy-gushy head-over-heels love that Sherlock hated. Ever since Sherlock had conveniently returned from the dead, he had found his life crashing down about his ears.
He hadn't expected full retribution from John. He hadn't even expected their relationship to be the same. But to have John say that he was engaged? Well, that was something else.
Sherlock stared in the mirror, frowning.
"You look nice," John commented, standing next to him.
John was wearing a white silk shirt, black tux, black tie. His loafers had been swapped for dress shoes that had been recently polished. He nervously prodded at his hair, trying to get a particularly stubborn piece to lie down straight.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, looking back at his own reflection. "As do you, I suppose."
"You suppose? What the hell does that mean?" John said, looking at him.
Sherlock smiled. "Nothing at all. You look fine. Besides, no one is going to be looking at you. They're going to be looking at your... fiancée."
"Well, we're going to be at the altar together. Speaking of looking nice," John said, striding away.
Sherlock's eyes followed his ex-flatmate's movements. John picked up a box from the nearby table, opening it. He carefully extracted a pure white carnation corsage. Sherlock wrinkled his nose.
"I hope that's for you," he said.
"It's for you," John replied.
"No-"
"Sherlock, do you remember our agreement?" John asked pleasantly, looking up at him. "I won't punch you in the face again if you don't complain about my wedding. You still owe me."
Sherlock sighed heavily, holding out his hand.
After Bart's, it had become more and more difficult to get out of things he didn't want to do. What John wanted was an extravagant wedding and Sherlock to be a proper best man. Sherlock knew about this, of course, but he did wonder how long he was going to have to work off the debt that was him faking his suicide.
He carefully attached the corsage, straightening it in the mirror. "Are you happy?" he muttered, frowning.
"Yes. You look very smart."
"I am very smart. I'm intelligent. This rubbish just smells of carnation and baby's breath and why is it white? I do believe that red is the colour of passion, or love, so shouldn't there be red carnations at your wedding instead of white?"
"Purity, Sherlock," John supplied.
"Oh, please. You're anything but pure."
Sherlock fully expected to have John physically hurt him for that comment, either with a slap to the back of his head or a mock-punch to his shoulder, but it didn't happen. Instead, John was just gaping at him like a fish, seeming unsure what to say.
"Mary and I..." John started weakly.
Sherlock smoothed out his suit. "Look, I don't care when you and Mary have sex."
"We are saving ourselves-"
"Like I said, I couldn't be less intrigued to hear about anything else in the world than what you and Mary are doing, sexually or otherwise."
John looked back to the mirror. "Try to have a bit of support, yeah?"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "On the fact that you and Mary haven't slept with each other, on the fact that you're getting married, or on the fact that your wedding starts in approximately ten minutes?"
"On my wedding as a whole, real- wait, ten minutes?" John glanced at his watch. "Oh..." He let out a deep breath, wringing his hands.
"Honestly, all you have to do is say a few words for your ridiculous legal-system-approved love to be official."
"Do you have the rings, Sherlock?" John asked suddenly.
He frowned. "Why would I?"
"Sherl-"
"The ring bearer has them, obviously," Sherlock interrupted easily. "Take a deep breath. Your jumpiness is getting on my nerves." He walked away from the mirror, picking up his cup of coffee to take a sip. "And if you're going to bring me coffee, black, two sugars. Not this pathetic attempt at a cappuccino."
"Sorry," John muttered, "I was in a rush. Cappuccino sounded good. Thought you might need it. We don't need the caffeine of black coffee, that's for sure."
"No, you don't need caffeine at all, whereas I am calm, as ever."
John sighed shakily, turning away from the mirror. He caught Sherlock's gaze; Sherlock read the complete panic and nervousness in his ex-flatmate's eyes. Sherlock sighed.
"Just calm down. You're going to see that woma- Mary," he amended, "and everything else isn't going to matter. I guess. I don't know. You're going to be fine."
John offered a faint smile. "Yeah... yeah, we will. Thanks."
"Besides, we don't want you to be a fainting groom," Sherlock muttered, hiding his smile behind his coffee cup.
John's head snapped up again. "I am not going to faint!"
Sherlock only placed his mug down, gave himself another once over in the mirror, and strode to the door. "Come along, John. We're needed at a wedding," he said, holding open the door.
John stared at him for a moment, looked at his reflection again, and strode out of the doorway towards the altar.
So, I wrote this a good while ago and never posted it for some reason. Re-reading it, I don't know why I never did, so, here it is. I love John & Mary... which at the same time disliking Mary for taking dear John away from one of literature's best friendships. But, with Amanda playing Mary, it really is nice. John deserves a wife... as long as Sherlock doesn't get neglected. :)
I do not own Sherlock. Leave a review if you liked this. Thank you!