Takeaway for Three or Four
Summary: Sherlock Holmes finally deduces the perfect wedding present for John Watson and Mary Morstan, and he makes a few extra deductions on the way. [Spoilers for Sherlock Series Three]
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.
Sherlock Holmes sat down on his sofa with his computer in his lap, ready to do some online shopping for John and Mary's wedding gift, at the insistence of his mother. "You have to get them a gift! You are their best man, after all."
Mrs. Hudson was even more adamant. "Sherlock Holmes, if you don't get them a wedding gift, I will charge you twice as much for rent and purchase one on your behalf!"
Their gift registry websites were attached to their wedding invitation, which he had resting against his computer screen. He quickly scanned through the sites, each one more boring than the next. "Why in the world do they need new salt and pepper shakers? The one's they have are perfectly fine!"
He snapped his computer closed in frustration and began to think. They needed something practical.
And then Sherlock smiled and jumped to his feet, resting his computer on his seat. He had the perfect idea.
Sherlock stood outside of John and Mary's home, having knocked and rang the doorbell only a few moments ago. He learned his lesson of barging into their flat without making his presence known; he now knew exactly where Mary had her secret tattoo, and he had seen John's backside for hopefully the last time.
The door opened just a bit. "Is John home?" Sherlock asked in lieu of greeting.
Mary Morstan opened the door wider and allowed Sherlock through. She was used to his bizarre greetings or lack of in the six months that she knew him. But as Sherlock walked through the doorway, he did pause for just a moment so Mary could lean up on her tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
"No, he's at the clinic."
"And you're not…because?" He didn't bother looking at her. It had come to his attention that deducing wasn't always the best way to have a conversation. So if he avoided looking at her for the moment, he wouldn't guess her response.
"Half shift today. I had a dress fitting."
"Ahh…and it went well, considering you had a pleasant lunch with Molly? Is she still here, by the way?" Sherlock shrugged out of his coat and hung it up. He didn't see Molly's coat, but that didn't mean anything; a jumper would have sufficed since the weather was taking a turn towards spring.
"She is not, I'm afraid. I just stole her for lunch. Sorry."
"Why apologize?"
"I know how much you like to spend time with her, is all."
Mary's cheeky grin caused Sherlock's mouth to tighten. Why did Mary have the uncanny ability to pick up on his romantic notions? As his eyes narrowed, he couldn't help but think that he did enjoy spending time with Molly.
Then Sherlock admonished himself. Enough of that, you idiot; you came over for a reason.
"I'm here to administer your wedding gift. Go change into something you'd wear to the gym." He unbuttoned his cuffs before meticulously rolling up his sleeves, at the same time slipping out of his shoes. He could feel Mary's stare on him and he looked up. "Hurry up! I don't have all day." After a moment, he haltingly added, "Please."
"Oh alright. Only for you, Sherlock Holmes. Will you tell me what we're doing?"
"When you come back."
As Mary bounded off to her bedroom, Sherlock took the opportunity to rearrange their sitting room, pushing all their furniture against one wall, leaving an open space in the center of the room large enough to roll around in.
When Mary returned wearing a plain red t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Sherlock nodded his head approvingly. "Do I need trainers?" she asked.
"No, that'll do." Sherlock put his hands on his hips, and Mary mimicked him, a sweet smile on her face.
"Are we going to fight for John?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes at her teasing remark. "No. I am going to teach you basic self-defense so you can always protect yourself."
"Oh!"
"Yes. The first thing we need to discuss is what you know. I doubt it's anything substantial. Prior to my return, I'm sure you hardly lived a dangerous life style, but things have changed and you always need to be prepared to protect yourself at whatever cost."
John Watson walked into his flat, ready for a beer and a bit of supper.
He froze when he stepped into his recently rearranged sitting room.
Sherlock had Mary in a back chokehold. Before he could splutter in indignation or get his gun, he heard Sherlock say, "Now the first thing you can try to do is head butt. Our height difference is a bit extreme to accomplish that properly, but know that that is something you should try. Am I hurting you?"
"No. But it will probably feel uncomfortable when we're done practicing and do the real thing."
"I won't hurt you," Sherlock promised.
John watched in amazement as Sherlock instructed Mary on how to properly break from the chokehold and deliver the most damage before running away. "Don't stick around after you break free. Just run. And if there are people around, scream for help," he reminded. "Now are you ready to try it slowly before we do it for real?" He moved them back into the chokehold.
"Actually, let's take a break for a mo'," Mary said. "I'm a bit tired and hungry."
"Been doing this all day, then?"
Mary jumped and her eyes widened, but Sherlock just turned and smiled, carefully releasing her from the chokehold. "Hi John!" Mary bounded towards him and kissed him lightly.
"You're all sweaty!" he remarked, wrinkling his nose.
"Well, I have been doing this all day! I'm going to clean up and make sandwiches!" She kissed his cheek one last time before stepping out of the room and going up to their bedroom.
John crossed his arms over his chest and turned back to look at Sherlock. He was standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back. "Should I be concerned that you had Mary in a chokehold?"
"Of course not. I haven't hurt her…much today."
"Much?" John growled, his face falling and his arms dropping to his sides, his fists balled tightly. Sherlock took one step back, furthering the distance between them.
"It comes with the training. She'll be a bit sore probably, but it's nothing compared to the knowledge that she gained today."
John took several steps forward, unable to hold back his temper. "And why, may I ask, do you feel it necessary to—"
"—teach your soon to be wife self-defense?" Sherlock interjected. "Because we live a dangerous life and at any moment, she's at risk to getting kidnapped, assaulted, or held hostage, and she needs to know how to properly handle the situation because you and or I might not always be close by when danger strikes." He hesitated a moment, unsure if he overstepped some sort of boundary between best friend and best friend's girl. "Also," he added, "I actually like her, and I need her to be on this planet for as long as possible because she makes you happy."
John halted suddenly. His mouth opened and closed numerous times, and Sherlock had the thought that he resembled a fish. Finally the former army doctor spluttered, "What?"
"The whole thing? Or the last little bit?"
"The last little bit."
"I actually like her, and I need her to be on this planet for as long as possible because she makes you happy," Sherlock repeated.
There was a moment of silence where you could only hear their breathing and the sound of Mary walking around the kitchen. Then John smiled brightly, and the brightness and size of the grin almost made Sherlock uncomfortable. "I'm really glad to hear that, mate."
"You didn't know?" Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion; he thought he made it clear over the last six months that he really enjoyed Mary's company.
"You do have a habit of not stating your feelings. Of course I didn't know about it!"
"Oh." Sherlock moved and sat down on the sofa, carefully crossing his legs. "I very much appreciate your soon-to-be wife. She's smart, funny, and probably the best thing that could have ever happened to you."
"It sounds like you like Mary more than you like me." John dropped down into his armchair, his grin not wavering in the slightest.
"It's a possibility I've been considering. But seriously," Sherlock smoothed his hands over his thighs. "I wouldn't have agreed to the ghastly position of best man if I didn't agree and support your decision to Mary her."
"Thanks," John whispered. Sherlock nodded his head once, and the two men lapsed into silence.
They were only quiet for a moment before Mary returned, changed into a pair of pajamas and wiping bread crumbs from her mouth. "You should probably order takeaway. I'm too tired to make anything other than sandwiches, and I just ate two so…" Mary sat down heavily beside Sherlock on the sofa and curled her feet beneath her.
"Alright," John said, standing up. He looked at Sherlock. "You staying?"
"Sure. I prefer Chinese."
"Yes, your highness."
When John returned to the room after searching for takeaway menus, he had to slap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
Sherlock was sitting very stiffly on the sofa with his hands clasped tightly in his lap; Mary's head was resting on his shoulder. She was fast asleep, curled into his side. "You wore her out," John commented, sitting back down and looking over the menu.
"She hardly expelled enough energy for this reaction." Sherlock's eyes swept over the sleeping woman, and his eyes widened a bit at his deduction.
During their brief contact that afternoon, he had noticed a bit of a hardening in her stomach; it was hardly noticeable. And she just ate lunch with Molly, a big one at that, and just a few minutes ago she demolished two sandwiches. And she was sleeping on the sofa. This wasn't the first time he had seen Mary taking an impromptu nap either; at first he blamed it on wedding stress, but it was obvious that all the signs were pointing to the fact that Mary was currently—
"Something wrong?"
"What?" Sherlock tore his eyes away from Mary. He was aware that his eyes were wide and he tried to school his expression. One glance at John told him that he was not aware of Mary's condition.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Uhh…no! No, no, just make sure you order enough takeaway for Mary."
John hesitated a moment before returning his gaze back to his menu. "…I will."
Sherlock returned his gaze to Mary and couldn't help the fondness that took over his features. They are a right family now.
As John talked on the phone to order in for the three—four—three of them, Sherlock came to the sudden realization that he would have to keep the deduction to himself; it wouldn't be appropriate to announce your best friend's pregnancy…right?
Fin.
A/N: Just something I was thinking about and wrote! I didn't really want to write anything between my last story and the ending of s3, but I couldn't help myself!
I hope everyone had a great New Year! Thanks for reading! :)
-Janet
