"Not staying for the dancing, then?"
Sherlock Holmes whipped around to see a familiar shadow leaning against a tree a few feet away. With a sigh, he turned towards the mad man.
"I don't do weddings."
The figure by the tree laughed quietly to himself.
"I've heard that one before."
"I don't doubt it. What haven't you heard before? How many times have you had to say goodbye?"
Sherlock tried his best to sound exasperated, but the pain in his voice bled through.
"You don't want me to answer that." The figure murmured. "You said no before-to traveling. Because of him. You said you had to protect him. What do you say now?"
"I have to be here. For John."
"He'll be off soon- on a honeymoon, I expect. Usually just a two person affair, though I suppose a third party could get interesting…" He trailed off with a smirk that was just barely visible. "You look like you could use a holiday. Just a pop out to the edge of the universe-bit dodgy, that place; but you're used to it aren't you?"
"What happened to the other two, the ginger and the nurse?"
Silence. The top hat bowed.
"I can't go off to the corner of nowhere. I need to be here. That woman that came with you last time, the Song woman-she said you were a madman."
"And I said dangerous and here you are."
The words echoed for a moment between the two men: the angel who wanted to be human and the human who wanted to be a god. The blue box behind the tree glowed with promise, an escape. But here, in London- Sherlock turned to catch a glimpse of the reception through the window. John and Mary were dancing in the center of a horde of onlookers, and both of them looked so happy…
Another quick turn to face the shadow. "How soon can I be back?"
"It's a time machine, Mr. Holmes. I can get you back for this morning's kippers if you like. Was that a yes?"
Sherlock took a breath and one last, long look at the man who had saved him.