The Runaway Groom
John was silently conversing with Greg Lestrade in the living room at
221B Baker Street. Sherlock was at his usual place by the window,
playing a very cheerful melody on his violin. John was just about to
clap at Sherlock's little performance when Sherlock stopped playing
suddenly with a loud screech from the violin that sounded like a dying
cat.
"Mail, John," he said quietly. John saw that he absolutely had to get
the mail so he excused himself from Greg and hurried down the stairs.
"Oh hello, John dear. Why are you in such a hurry?" inquired Mrs Hudson.
"Um, I wanted to ask if there was any mail for us?"
"Oh! Well, a young man came by and dropped this for you."
Mrs Hudson handed him a perfectly white envelope. He turned it over
and saw 'For Dr John Watson and Mr Sherlock Holmes' written in an
elegant hand with a blue stationary ink pen. He hurried back up the
stairs and gave the letter to his flatmate. Sherlock looked it over
quickly before his expression turned grim and he handed the letter
back to John.
"Read it," he said simply. John was surprised; he had expected
Sherlock to rattle off deductions but instead he kept quiet. John
carefully opened the delicate envelope and pulled out a thin sky blue
paper with a few simple decorations adorning the message. He started
to read.
"Mrs Cassiopeia Holmes requests the honour of your presence at the
marriage of her son Mycroft Holmes to the daughter of Sir Richard
Wein, Lady Liana Sutcliff, on Saturday, the eleventh of October, two
thousand fourteen, at ten o'clock in the morning. The wedding is being
held at 99 Kensington High Street London W8 5SA. The favour of your
reply is requested by September the third. Accept with pleasure or
decline with regret. Accommodations, The Royal Garden Hotel, 2- 24
Kensington High Street London W8 4PT. Please mention the
Holmes-Sutcliff wedding."
There was a big silence at first, then only the sound from Sherlock's
violin as he played a soft melody that John vaguely recognized as
Tchaikovsky's violin concerto in D major. John and Greg relaxed as the
music washed over them but all too soon it stopped.
"You knew."
The question was directed at Greg, who looked at Sherlock with a sad expression.
"Yes, I knew. Two days ago to be exact."
Sherlock continued to stare at Greg.
"You love him."
It was more of a statement than a question. Greg sighed.
"Yes, I do." And with that Greg left the flat after saying a quiet
goodbye to John.
"John?"
"Yes, Sherlock?"
"We accept." John raised an eyebrow. "With regret."
John sighed internally. He was pretty sure this wedding was going to
be pretty interesting, to say the least.
Two days earlier...
Greg and Mycroft were having tea at a small coffee shop just across
New Scotland Yard.
It had become a little habit of theirs since Mycroft had increased the
frequency of meeting up with Greg.
"Gregory?"
"Yes, Mycroft?"
"I have something to tell you. You wouldn't mind coming with me to my
house, would you?"
"No, not at all. Lead the way."
Both kept a secret locked away deep in their hearts - they were madly
in love with each other. Greg for his part felt a bit nervous. Did
Mycroft really like him in such a way? Was that why he was inviting
him to his house?
As Mycroft opened the door, Greg studied the surroundings. Too fancy,
the walls were adorned with gold linings, the furniture was plush
velvet and the rug itself probably cost more than Greg's monthly
salary.
When he heard the door close, he seized the opportunity, swiftly
turned around and pinned Mycroft to the door. He kissed him roughly,
Mycroft moaning in response and quickly replicating Greg's actions.
When he pulled away, Greg breathed, "Run away with me." He kissed
Mycroft's jaw. "Let me kidnap you." He nipped slightly at Mycroft's
earlobe before kissing him again, only this time Mycroft did not
respond. Greg frowned.
"What's wrong? Don't you want this?"
Mycroft eyes grew sad and old.
"I'm sorry. I-" he sighed, "I can't do this, Gregory."
"Why?"
Mycroft's lips trembled slightly.
"I'm getting married, Gregory."
Greg froze in shock, his face an unreadable mask.
"Gregory?"
Greg pulled away from Mycroft, shoved him out of the way and opened
the door. He walked out without a word.
"Gregory! Wait!"
"No! I have waited enough!" Mycroft froze. Greg had been angry before
but his tone had never been so cold, harsh and cutting.
"I've waited six months, Mycroft, six! And now you're telling me that
you're getting married?"
"Gregory. I- I'm sorry!"
"No! No more, Mycroft! What am I to you?! What was all this?! The- the
innocent flirting, the slight touches of shoulders or hands, the
genuine smiles! What was all that, Mycroft?!"
Mycroft, for once, was at a loss for words.
"G-Gregory..." His eyes were welling up with tears while Greg's eyes
were dry and icy.
Greg sneered, "Goodbye, Mr Holmes." And he walked back to the sleek
black car and asked the driver to take him home. It had started
raining.
Mycroft was left standing in the rain. He remained there for good
fifteen minutes, silent tears streaming down his face, mixing with the
drops from the sky, until you couldn't tell which one was crying.
A month later...
Today was the day, the day Mycroft Holmes was getting married to a
person he didn't even choose let alone love. He stared at his
reflection in the mirror with dead, dull eyes. The man in a black silk
tuxedo and a silver tie, with a single red rose in his pocket wasn't
him, and never would be. His parents didn't approve of gay people.
When his little brother had outed himself, Mummy and Daddy were very
cross but couldn't bear to kick their son out. Mycroft sighed at the
memory and went to stand at the top of the aisle. He waited in silence
with Harry, his Best Man (Sherlock had refused), standing beside him,
wearing a large smile on his face.
Mycroft looked around, scanning the crowd. Mummy and Daddy, Sherlock
and John and the rest of the Sutcliff family were in the front rows.
And then there were all the other guests, 'friends', people Mycroft
wished he would never have to see again.
Suddenly the organ began to play and Mycroft turned his attention to the bride.
Liana Sutcliff was a very beautiful woman. She had long silky
fiery-red hair, large emerald green eyes and plush red lips. Her skin
was a snowy white, as smooth as marble. But Mycroft did not love her;
his heart belonged to someone else. It belonged to the man who had
redeemed his brother when he had failed.
Mycroft forced a smile as Liana came up to stand beside him, dressed
in a most beautiful gown any woman would envy her. He lifted the veil
that covered her face and forced another smile, wishing to high
heavens that somebody else were in her place.
"If anyone objects to this marriage, let them speak now or forever
hold their peace..." Mycroft silently prayed that HE would come and
speak up, but he was met with silence. The clergyman was about to
resume his speech when a voice, an oh-so-familiar voice, boomed
through the venue.
"I OBJECT!" Everyone gasped and murmured at the objection and more so
at the fact that the voice was male. They all turned towards the
speaker and their gaze found a man wearing black torn jeans, biker
boots, a black Green Day shirt and a leather jacket. On his head was a
top hat which he tipped down to hide his face, the light revealing
only his grin. His gloved hand was still poised on the rim of the hat
as he spoke.
"You all heard me! I object! And I'm pretty sure Mycroft Holmes would
agree with me." Mycroft wanted to cry, laugh, scream and shout all at
the same time. HE had come back.
The man who had come back threw away the hat, his silver hair
glistening in the artificial light, his brown eyes hard and
determined.
"I love you, Mycroft, I've loved you since the very first day I laid
my eyes on you... Well, after I got divorced, of course." Mycroft
chuckled at that.
"I love you!" shouted Greg. Mycroft glanced at Sherlock and John, who
were both grinning at him and mouthing 'Go on!' Then he looked at
Mummy and Daddy who were furious, of course. Then he looked at Liana,
who was simply smiling at him. She noticed him looking at her, and she
winked. She knew... Mycroft took a deep breath and ran towards Greg,
stopping only a few meters away.
"Kidnap me, Gregory!" he shouted. Greg grinned, ran towards him and
grabbed his hand. Just then Daddy Holmes and Father Sutcliff had
gotten up and started chasing them - luckily Sherlock and John were
already positioned behind the doors of the venue (God only knew how).
Mycroft and Greg were sprinting and giggling madly as they passed the
doors. Once they were through, Sherlock and John closed the doors and
blocked them, sniggering away. They watched as Greg started his
motorbike, Mycroft riding pillion and hugging him tightly and they
sped away, smiling.
THE END.