A 221B for my good friend MapleleafCameo - she'll understand why!
Disclaimer: I own nothing...because if I did some of my writings would end up in the series...
Alighting from the sleeper train in Edinburgh John looked around, a smile gracing his lips. Beside him, Sherlock huffed sulkily, his suitcase clutched in his hand, his silver grey eyes watching his partner.
"Come along Sherlock, it's my cousin's wedding, the only decent member of my family, and he invited us. Not just me, us." There was the hint of a plea in his voice.
After a moment of wordlessly staring at each other, Sherlock nodded and led the way out to the cab rank.
Their rooms in Dundas Castle were magnificent, a king size bed, ensuite bathroom, and his 'n' hers dressing rooms.
Sherlock stood looking out of the window, feeling uncomfortable in his grey morning suit, thankful that John had assured him that the top hat wouldn't be necessary.
He turned as the dressing room door opened, expecting to see John in his dress uniform, but the sight that greeted him made the air whoosh out of his lungs.
John looked every inch the Scottish Laird, with his white dress shirt and velvet jacket, his Watson tartan kilt swung almost enticingly as he walked, his ghillie brogues highly polished, and a Sgian Dubh tucked into his sock.
"Ready?"
Waggling his eyebrows the doctor smiled cheekily, turned and flipped up the hem of his kilt to reveal his bare bottom.
Sgian Dubh is a ceremonial dagger