*Oh what a night, late December back in '63*
Gazing into the eyes of the man he could proudly call his husband, John Watson had never felt happier. Their first dance together was going well, although with all the dance lessons Sherlock had given him, it really should be. Dancing around the hall, John could see, from the corner of his eye, Mrs Hudson wiping away tears with her hankie, whilst whispering "oh my boys."
*Why'd it take so long to see the light?*
And there, in those lyrics, was the biggest regret of John's life. It had taken Sherlock's 'death' to make him realise how much he meant to him and by then, he thought it was too late. He fell into alcoholism far too quickly, and if it hadn't been for Lestrade, John wouldn't have even been there to see Sherlock return. "I must remember to thank him one day," John thought as he pulled his arms tighter around Sherlock's waist. Sherlock then lent down to place his head against John's shoulder.
"I love you," the words ghosted against John's ear as Sherlock whispered the now familiar, yet still extraordinary words. And, as the song began to fade away, Sherlock heard the four words that still made his heart skip a beat, "I love you too."
*Oh what a night*