Hiya, you lovely lot, you! Firstly, thank you to all the amazing reviews I received for my first story. And if you read anyway, thank you for doing so. I really hope you enjoyed it and didn't feel like your time was wasted. I am overwhelmed...thank you all so much! You really are the best xx
Anyway, on with the story. Of course, it's a wedding story! I thought since it's become a bit of a thing…why not? Hope you enjoy, thank you again xx
Still don't own anything Sherlock related unfortunately...
This certainly wasn't his ideal setting, but being the best man at your best friend's wedding hardly warrants an escape. But that didn't stop Sherlock Holmes from scowling in a corner while happy couples around him danced together, entwined and lost in each other's eyes. John and Mary Watson were no exception. The room they had rented for the evening was decorated beautifully with gold and silver decorations covering the walls. The children were playfully running around the dance floor while drunk relatives laughed and fell over. Sherlock sighed dramatically and unfolded his arms to fiddle with his collar for the hundredth time that night. His annoyance returned as he thought about the conversation with John the night before.
"Sherlock, you are not wearing that scruffy coat and tatty scarf to my wedding. Now wear this, Mary picked it out especially," John had said hurriedly, handing him a smart black suit complete with tie and cufflinks. Sherlock had been furious at what he received. He deemed it so…ordinary, so normal. Completely the opposite of him.
"If you think I am wearing this…this penguin suit then you have got another thing coming," he had protested, but John was not taking no for an answer. He had even threatened to call Sherlock's mother. Sherlock had finally agreed but made his displeasure known, at every available opportunity.
Jolted back to the present, Sherlock was being ushered out of his private corner by the bustling wedding planner, to a table that John had ordered he sit at. He was not happy about this. Social interaction was not Sherlock's strong suit. Despite being best man, Sherlock was under strict instructions he was not to present a speech, for fear of insulting anyone. A mixture of familiar people and complete strangers sat around the table. DI Lestrade and his wife were among them, as was Molly Hooper and a bunch of Mary's friends. Sherlock briefly glanced at the pathologist, sat at the far end of the table, noticing she was wearing a very fetching gold dress and jewellery, her hair loose and tightly curled, under Mary's instructions no doubt. He looked down before he was caught staring. His head began to throb painfully. There really was a lot of people here…
Sherlock looked up from his sulk at the happy couple now dancing to some slow song and had to admit they looked…perfect for each other. The way they danced together, like they were the only two people in the world. The way her head fit just right on his shoulder as her hands settled around his neck. The way his blissfully closed eyes and slow movements showed they were in no rush to leave. After several minutes, the song changed to a faster dance number and the happy couple ushered their guests onto the stage. Sherlock tilted his head as he watched Mary dance with her very inebriated father and John awkwardly spinning around with Mary's young niece, who wouldn't leave him alone. Sherlock's eyes swivelled around the room and he was hit by an onslaught of random information, making his head throb harder. He shook his head a little and blinked rapidly. The pain subsided as he noticed Molly dancing with a stranger. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and watched as he leant in to say something in her ear. He rolled his eyes as Molly laughed, shaking her head and pushed the man away a little. The man looked irritated and disappeared. Molly stood still for a moment then looked over to her table and saw Sherlock watching her with a tilted head and curious expression. Sherlock looked away quickly and downed his glass of champagne, wincing slightly.
"Be careful, we don't want you passing out," Molly shouted over the music. Sherlock didn't reply.
"What's the matter? You've been sat there all evening, avoiding everyone. I thought by now someone would be in tears…," she was regarding him with a concerned expression. He looked up at her at this comment.
"That is exactly why I have been avoiding everyone. There are so many people here…so much information. Something is bound to slip out if I talk to someone," he said, resuming staring at his ridiculously shiny shoes. He couldn't be sure but he was convinced Molly had laughed at this.
"Well, if you need to get it off your chest, I'm not going to tell anyone," Molly said, leaning back in the chair she now occupied opposite Sherlock. He scoffed.
"Please, Molly. I do not need any help…," he said, but if he was being honest, it would be really fun to sit with Molly and tell her things about John and Mary's family that they probably didn't even know.
"Oh, come on. You look like you're going to explode. Please," she pouted leaning forwards a little. Sherlock sighed and sat up straighter with a little nod. Molly triumphantly smiled and moved around the table to sit by Sherlock.
After a while, Sherlock started to relax and settle down. He relayed countless pieces of information over to Molly, who sat giggling along probably due to the amount of alcohol she was knocking back. Sherlock even allowed himself one or two glasses. However, these glasses soon turned into bottles as the night rolled on. Sherlock's mind had become unclogged now that the information was flowing from him. He felt the pressure lift and began laugh along with the pathologist. The evening wasn't going so badly after all…
After a few more hours of drunken laughter at embarrassing family secrets, the rabble around them had begun to quiet down. The music had now stopped and children were asleep in chairs around the room, parents waved goodbyes and offered blessings to the newlyweds. Everyone on Sherlock and Molly's table had left, except for said people. They were still sat in their seats, surrounded by glasses and glasses of different liquids. They were still sniggering about the fact that John's Great Aunt once, convinced he was a girl, dressed him in skirts and tights and called him Joanna. Sherlock had made a mental note to bring this up in conversation at some point, but this said note had probably gotten lost due to the amount of alcohol clouding his mind. The highlight of the evening so far had to be about an hour ago, when Mr. Morstan had gotten unsteadily to his feet to ask his new son-in-law a question and toppled over onto the buffet table. Luckily, everyone had eaten by this time but Mr. Morstan seemed more concerned for his rented suit, now covered in cake. Sherlock had been about to tell her exactly how lovely she looked before the rude interruption. Why? He put it down to the alcohol in his system rather than the actual truth. They both stopped their intimate discussions and roared with laughter at Mary's father. The many children in attendance had also stopped to laugh.
Mr. and Mrs. Morstan were getting ready to leave. Mr. Morstan grabbed his coat and picked up his sleeping granddaughter, Mary's niece. She had given up pursuing John half an hour ago. The moved over to Mary, who hugged her mother, kissed her father's cheek and caressed her niece's forehead.
"Goodnight, darling. Have a lovely honeymoon; it was such a lovely day. We are so proud of you…It's just such a shame your father had to destroy the lovely food with his fat arse" Mrs. Morstan grumbled to her daughter, glaring at her husband. Mary rolled her eyes. Here we go again.
"Well, if you stopped me from drinking-," he started but was cut off by a loud tutting noise.
"Stop you! And how would I have done that? You would've torn my bloody arm off for the smallest drop," she shrieked shrilly in the quiet hall. Their granddaughter stirred in Mr. Morstan's arms.
"Now look what you've done! Give her to me; I'll not be having you carry her when you can barely carry yourself," she continued, carefully taking the sleeping toddler from her husband. "I'll see you later, love. Have a great time. You'll be happy…he's a good lad," she looked at Mary and kissed her goodbye. Mary nodded and Mrs. Morstan raised her head and waved towards John and, without a glance at her husband, left the hall. Mr. Morstan sighed loudly.
"Don't worry about Mum. She's just a little…overwhelmed, that's all. It's been a long day," Mary offered, but her father just shook his head.
"It's alright, love. This is about you. Your mother's right. Have a great time and we'll see you when you get back," he embraced her tightly and she nodded.
"Take care and call me when you're at home. I want to know you made it back ok," Mary said, and he nodded, placed his hat on his head and left also.
Mary watched as her parents left and decided not to worry about that fight right now. She hardly noticed when John appeared at her side, taking her hand.
"We best be off soon, love. The hotel's around the corner and we have a flight to catch tomorrow," John said, looking at her watch the door. Mary returned to Earth.
"Right, sorry. I was in a world of my own. Thank you for a lovely day, my darling," Mary said, turning to him and kissing him softly. John responded equally as softly. When they pulled away, John noticed the room was empty except for the two of them. He frowned.
"Where's Sherlock gone? I swear, if he's pissed someone off…," John groaned collapsing into a chair, his eyes drifting shut. She slapped his arm.
"Hey hey. Come on, he's been good most of the night. I've hardly seen him. And don't you be going to sleep. We've got to get to the hotel before we get locked out. Let's go, Mr. Watson," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet.
"Yes, Mrs. Watson," he said, kissing her cheek. The couple turned and headed for the honeymoon suite of their hotel.
The morning sun poured through the slightly open curtains of the honeymoon suite. Mary turned to her new husband and gently poked him in the back to wake him up.
"Morning, darling. We've got to get ready for the honeymoon," she said, sleepily. John grunted a response. "Don't want to be late to start our new life together, now do we."
He groaned as the bed shifted and the curtains were pulled all the way open. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and gathered some clothes. Mary had already dressed in some jeans and a white t-shirt, her hair in a loose bun. She was bustling around, gathering bits of paperwork and picking up her phone. By the time John dressed, she had rang her parents to ensure they had a safe journey home, double checked their flight times and packed their essential passport details in a large travel bag. They were making their way down to breakfast when Mary clapped a hand to her forehead.
"What?" John asked, glancing at his watch. They had just over an hour before they had to be out of their room.
"I forgot the keys for Sherlock," Mary said, turning back around.
"I'll get them. I need to get my cufflinks anyway. Go eat, I'll be back soon," John smiled kissing her forehead. Mary smiled and turned to go into the dining suite.
John ran up to the honeymoon suite and gathered the keys to 221B and headed down the hall to Sherlock's room. He knew Sherlock's hatred towards hotels but he had no choice really. As he walked down the corridor, an elegant, elderly couple left the room next to Sherlock's. They looked extremely unhappy. John caught a few of their words as they passed.
"I really should complain about it. Why, this is a respectable hotel and the noise last night must have woken the entire hotel. We cannot have been the only one's that heard it," the man was saying to his wife. John raised his eyebrows.
"I agree. There was no need for all that screaming and shouting. I heard something smash as well. They'll have to pay for it of course…," the couple moved out of earshot and John looked confused. The only room anywhere remotely near theirs was Sherlock's.
John curiously approached Sherlock's room door and knocked lightly. There was no answer. John sighed and turned the handle and found, to his surprise, it was unlocked. Glancing around stupidly, he walked in blinking in the sudden brightness of the sunlit room.
"Sherlock?" he called softly, not expecting an answer. He didn't get one. He assumed Sherlock was still asleep. When his eyes adjusted, he noticed some things were out of place. For example, since when did Sherlock own a pair of elegant high heels? Well, there they were in the middle of the room.
As he moved further into the room, he looked around. The rug in front of the sofa had been pushed back, the small table stood alone in the middle of the room, the heels underneath them. A broken vase lay shattered on the floor by the table. They were slight scratches to the paint on the walls leading down the small hallway to the bedroom-bathroom ensuite. John frowned trying to work out what had happened. Was Sherlock burgled by a woman who felt the need to take off her heels before breaking a vase? He shook his head. He placed the things in his hand on the table, which was wobbly. He walked down the hallway, slightly afraid of what he'd find. He noticed rather expensive gold jewellery on the floor a few inches away from the door to the bedroom. John noticed his cufflinks were among them. He stooped to pick them up. Ok, definitely not a burglar, he thought, standing up and approaching the door. He took a deep breath and pushed it open carefully and he thought for a moment he may have gone blind.
For on the bed, covered only by a tangled mass of sheets, was Sherlock Holmes, entwined and wrapped in the embrace of Molly Hooper, both fast asleep. Their clothes, or what remained of them, were thrown around the room. He looked up and noticed what he could only assume to be Molly's knickers entangled in the chandelier. This was when John Watson decided he had had enough. All the pieces had fallen into place. He gently closed the door and left them to sleep off their…night.
When he reached Mary, she had finished eating and looking at him curiously.
"There you are. What were you doing? Don't you want breakfast?" she asked him. John shook his head.
"No, thanks. I'm not really hungry and I doubt I ever will be again," he said, shuddering slightly.
"Why? It's a long journey darling. What's the matter?" She asked looking concerned, as they stepped into the street. John turned to his wife.
"I'll tell you in the car."
Whoa, sorry if this dragged a little guys! When I get going I just can't stop. I really didn't intend it to be this long. I had way too much fun writing the ending. I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you had as much fun reading it. Please review, I love to hear what you guys think. Lots of love for you guys x