A/N: In case it's not clear - John's texts are plain, Sherlock's are italic, Greg's are bold and Mycroft's are underlined.

Disclaimer: I don't own, nor do I profit.


May be a bit late back. Going shopping. Anything we need?

Milk. Eyeballs.

Sherlock! I refuse to pick up your revolting experiments.

Just the eyeballs then?

Ha ha. See you later.

ooo

Want to meet up later?

Sorry, I can't. Got to go shopping for Sherlock.

No worries. I might see you in town, actually. I need to visit the jewellery shop – wife's birthday.

Actually you probably will see me, in that case.

What? You're buying Sherlock jewellery? Dead bodies not enough for him anymore?

I'm buying him a ring.

Why?

Are you finally going to propose?!

Yep.

Bloody hell. Are you nervous?

Yep.

You've been together for seven months officially and you were basically a couple since you met him. Of course he's going to accept.

He'd better.

See you downtown then!

ooo

Try the one on the top left-hand shelf.

Sorry what?

The ring on the top left-hand shelf. It's nicer than the one you're currently looking at.

Do you HAVE to spy on me ALL THE TIME?

Only when it concerns Sherlock's safety. Which in a way this does. Top left shelf, back corner.

I already looked at that one. It costs about the same as a small island. Army pensions aren't that good.

The man at the till is married to someone I happen to know from work.

So?

I've had a word with him. I'm sure he's willing to give you a substantial discount.

You're so bloody interfering.

Thank you.

Alright. I'll get it. But only because I was looking at that one anyway.

Naturally.

ooo

Well? Are congratulations in order?

I haven't asked him yet. I forgot to get the eyeballs and had to go back to the morgue.

I'm outside the flat now.

Good luck, mate. Eyeballs make a great engagement present.

Thanks ever so much.

ooo

Yes.

What?

The answer is yes, John.

The answer to what?!

Yes, I will marry you.

Bloody hell, Sherlock. I haven't even asked you.

No, but it was obvious you were about to. You can stop agonising outside and come in now.

How was it obvious?!

And no, actually, I think I'll stay out here for now.

You're angry?

You can't just assume I'm going to ask you. Interrupting someone's proposal = a bit not good, Sherlock.

Seven months officially as of last Tuesday. You always pay attention to anniversaries but you let that one slide because you were saving up for a surprise. You didn't want to propose on the anniversary because you thought it was too clichéd and predictable (I happen to agree, actually; I'm quite glad you didn't). You have 'late home' and a little star drawn on today's date in your calendar; marked in with the pen you got for Christmas, which you lost three weeks ago, so you've been planning this for a while, probably since our 6 month anniversary, which is sentimentally likely as 6 months is an important relationship milestone. You were already aware that we needed milk because you used the last of it in your coffee this morning, so you wouldn't text just to find out: you wanted me to think you would be late for ordinary reasons, meaning you had a significant surprise planned. Even accounting for traffic, you took twenty three minutes longer than it usually takes to visit the morgue and the supermarket. You hesitated on the doorstep, showing signs of nervousness. You went to great pains to hide your shopping in the bag from the supermarket, but there's a crumpled receipt visible in your pocket. You never take the receipts from the supermarket, so you've visited somewhere else. The edge of the receipt visible from the window shows it to be high-quality paper as receipts go – somewhere you made an expensive purchase. So actually it was a fairly straightforward assumption that you were going to ask me to marry you.

. . . Fantastic.

I do love it when you say that.

I know. You're an arrogant, swollen-headed bastard. You're lucky I love you.

So will you come in now?

One condition. You let me ask you properly.

Very well. The answer's still going to be yes, though.

Thank god for that.

ooo

Congratulations, Doctor Watson. You may want to save your 'celebrations' until later, though – Mrs Hudson is going to come in with a cake in approximately four minutes, and I would hate for her to be scarred.

BLOODY HELL, MYCROFT. Stop spying on us all the time!

Oh, I couldn't do that. God knows what you two would get up to.

Don't you have a country to run or something?

I once told Sherlock that caring is not an advantage. For the most part, I still hold to that. But in your case, I think that your caring for my brother – and his for you – is possibly the biggest advantage you could have.

…Thanks, Mycroft.

ooo

He said yes! Greg! I'm going to get married! Sherlock bloody Holmes is going to marry me!

Congratulations, mate! You're probably the only person in the world who could put up with him.

ooo

I assume John's already told you that we are now engaged.

He has, yes. I'm very happy for you.

I just wanted to tell you myself. I said yes. He asked me and I said yes. I get to marry John.

You sound excited.

Nonsense. Whatever gave you that idea?

ooo

John.

What are you texting me for? I'm in the same room, you twonk.

Thank you for my eyeballs.

You're very welcome, darling.

John.

Mmhmm?

I love you.

I love you too, Sherlock. So much.