AUTHOR'S NOTE

To celebrate my inescapable entry into the FanFiction community I have decided to make a story. All constructive criticisms shall be welcome.

Honeymoons and Hostages

By MadameHappy

Chapter 1

One of these days John Watson was going to give into temptation and just kill Sherlock Holmes himself. The man was his best friend, his partner in crime (though if you asked Sherlock he would have called John his side kick), and the man he had killed for. But he was an infuriating bastard.

Only Sherlock could commence the profanities of the usually ever patient doctor. Only Sherlock would require physical venting. However only Sherlock would be able to (with trickery or not) receive forgiveness when everything was said and done. He was Sherlock Holmes. He was an impossible man, but also John's impossible friend.

John would look back at this story and laugh to himself, for it had been a fairly ridiculous one. Though he would have to admit it was a most interesting wedding present.

John had been married to his fiance for a week already and hadn't yet spent a honeymoon with her. They were planning of course, but it was difficult- so many places to go, so many different plans, and John and Mary were determined to meet in the middle with their agreements. Their budget remained untouched for days.

A day after the end of the week however, John found his miracle in the form of Sherlock Holmes. Then again miracles always happened around him.

It began with a simple text message:

Baker Street if convenient. SH

John being John he went, of course, and found Sherlock in the middle of a thorough over-analysis of a hat, so intense he didn't notice him come in.

"-a fedora, quite small, quite used, splotches of dust and dirt here and there, dried off recently, most of these in America but some delving to other parts of the globe. Small hat, too small for an adult, too big even for a five year old, an infant could wear it-" Then he glanced up. "Ah, John, perfect."

He tossed the fedora carelessly away and stood up from his armchair, looking John up and down once. "I see your unresolved honeymoon plan with Mary has remained, ah, unresolved."

John nodded once and stuffed his hands to his jacket, coughing expectantly. "So what did you want to see me about? Is that hat anything to do with it?"

"Hm?" Sherlock glanced at the fedora. "Oh no, just an old thing some maintenance workers up in the Big Ben found inside the clock works when the hand stopped ticking. Thought it would be part of some 'imminent terrorist attack'." He rolled his eyes. "Idiots. The fedora got stuck between the cogs, obviously an accident. But the hat is-"

John coughed again. "Maybe that can wait, yeah? What did you want to see me about?"

Sherlock's head swiveled back to John, eyes confused for a second before lighting up again, remembering. "Ah yes." He grabbed an old brochure from his desk and slapped it down on the coffee table. John picked it up and looked at the title.

"Soissons?" He read aloud.

"Yes, prime spot, thought it would be perfect." Sherlock smiled widely. "A lovely little town in France, very close to Paris so you and Mary can have your little sight-seeing, and it's warm, especially now, so you can rest peacefully." He brought his fingers together under his chin. "What do you think?"

John looked through the brochure. It did look lovely. He looked up at Sherlock in both confusion (because really, why was he doing this) and hesitation. "It might be a bit costly-"

"Oh, nothing to worry about." Sherlock spun around and went to the kitchen, out of John's view. "Mycroft hasn't given you a wedding gift yet. It shouldn't be difficult for him, getting someone to fly you. And I know an inn keeper who owes me a favour."

"Wait, wait." John was smiling now. "You, Sherlock Holmes, are planning my honeymoon? You?"

Sherlock poked his head out to the living room, looking vaguely offended. "Come now John. I planned your wedding."

"You tried to make the theme medical."

"Suits both your professional and personal lives in one word."

"And you wanted the wedding cake to explode."

"Heart-shaped wedding cake. A bit of a small jest and of course, a heart exploding is rather romantic-"

"Then the actual cake comes up-"

"Ooh, I love this one."

"And the actual cake is a-"

"Gun," Sherlock finished, coming out of the kitchen with two cups of tea. "And it would have been possible, if it were not for the fact that the bakers'-"

"Honestly!" John laughed, tossing the brochure back to the coffee table. "Admit it! When it comes to planning social gatherings you can make one right mess out of it! I'm just glad Mary was there to talk some sense into you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Traditional. Boring."

John crossed his arms, looking amused. "As if you could plan out a perfect wedding."

Sherlock smirked. "Is that a challenge, Doctor Watson?"

"God, spare me," John shook his head. "Maybe if it's Mycroft's wedding you're planning out."

Sherlock groaned. "Oh, don't count on it, Mycroft is a hopeless case with love." He rubbed his face once and looked over to John, his eyes still looking at him questionably. "What do you think then, do you like it?"

John looked at the brochure. It was a historical town, one of the most ancient in France, and only just about a hundred kilometres from Paris. It had everything he knew Mary was looking for- culture, history, art- while it had everything John was looking for- a beautiful view, a warm climate and an inn. He was quite sure Mary would jump at the sight of it.

Throwing away all suspicions, he smiled at him and nodded.

"I like it."

Sherlock clapped his hands together. "Excellent." In two large strides he spun John around, placed the brochure in his hands and pushed him out the door. "Tell Mary, make plans, give me the date. Evening!"

Before John could say anything Sherlock had slammed the door in his face.

Sherlock was right; Mary loved it. John texted the planned date to Sherlock and they started making arrangements.

As they went to bed that night John wondered what had gotten into the man. This wasn't like him, planning honeymoons.

Oh well, he thought to himself as he closed his eyes. If Sherlock wants to help, let it be.

He slept, worry free.

Chapter two will be up if I have the time, or if writer's block doesn't get me first.

Oh, and if you noticed the very small crossover with the fedora, I commend you.