A/N: I know I said that I probably wouldn't do any more in my Jamie series, I lied, sorry, obviously I'm a bad person (shame on me). This story takes place approximately 12 years after Forgive Me Father. If you wish to read the others in the series (Do You Renounce Evil, Dust To Dust, and Forgive Me Father), please visit my profile page. If you like them please review (please be kind). I think I have one (maybe two) more stories from this particular series left to do. To all those of you who are following 'Fear' I apologise for taking so long to update! (I don't really have any excuse, please see my comment above about me being a bad person) sorry! :(
Disclaimer: Don't own, wish I did! :)
Forever Hold Thy Peace
Detective Inspector Lestrade gazed in amazement at the man standing in the doorway of the office. 'What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?' he asked.
'Hmm yeah, I'm just waiting for his Majesty. Apparently he needed to check some evidence for that aggravated burglary case from last night.' replied John as he moved into the room and took a seat in front of Greg's desk. 'Jamie knows not to start worrying until I'm at least three hours late.' he added with a grin.
'I can certainly see that he's your son, he's got the patience of a saint!' answered Greg with a smile.
'No, he definitely inherited that from Mary.' John looked down as he became lost in thought, remembering his late wife.
'Yeah.' sighed Lestrade, his voice barely above a whisper.
John glanced up, the corner of his lips lifting slightly in a small sad smile, the sadness in his eyes plain to see.
A sudden commotion in the corridor outside alerted both men seconds before Sherlock burst through the door saying, 'come along John! We don't want to be late!'
John sighed as he turned to his best friend, 'yes alright, I'm coming!' Making his way out of the office he turned back to the Inspector 'are you coming Greg?'
'Definitely, I wouldn't miss it for the world.' replied Lestrade with a big grin on his his face. 'I've got a couple of things to finish here, so I'll see you there.'
The taxi pulled to a stop and after paying the fare, John and Sherlock alighted and walked up to Angelo's restaurant, where they noticed the sign on the door informing everyone that the restaurant would be closed that evening because a private party was taking place.
Sherlock reached out to the door handle and looked across at his friend, who was looking a little pale in the faint orange glow of the street light. 'Are you okay John?' he asked quietly.
John raised an eyebrow at his flatmate. 'I'm fine, it's just ... I was wondering where all the years went. One minute, I'm changing Jamie's nappy, and the next, it's his stag do.' he replied, 'Why do you ask? It's not like you to bother about anything as mundane as sentiment?'
Luckily for Sherlock, as he didn't particularly wish to answer that question, the door swung open to reveal the man of the moment standing in the doorway with a huge grin on his face, sparkly teeny-boppers in the shape of stars on his head and party popper streamers draped around his shoulders.
'Dad, Sherlock, you made it, and ooh ... only forty five minutes late! It's a miracle!' yelled Jamie in his slightly inebriated state as he stumbled forward to hug his dad.
John returned the hug, and then clasped his son's shoulders to move him back slightly so that he could peer into his face. Taking note of the slight glaze in his son's eyes as they lost focus slightly, he turned him back towards the table and placing a hand between his shoulder blades he propelled Jamie to a chair.
'Come on son, lets get some food inside you, soak up some of that alcohol, okay?' stated John calmly as he took a seat beside his son.
Sherlock followed the two men and sitting himself at the table on John's other side, he took a moment to look at the other guests. The majority were friends of Jamie's from his years at university and some from the hospital where he had recently begun his stint as a junior doctor in the Accident and Emergency department. Having discovered, with one brief look, which were having affairs, and which were struggling with their jobs, Sherlock continued his perusal of the guests gathered around the table. Smirking, he noticed his brother looking distinctly uncomfortable as he was sandwiched between two of Jamie's more celebrity concious university friends. It appeared that they were having a rather in depth discussion about the latest goings on in the celebrity jungle, and which celebrity they wished to see take a shower at the lake.
After several courses had been served, eaten and subsequently removed, John got to his feet. Picking up a stray fork he tapped his glass until silence fell. Looking across the table at all of the men assembled, John grinned and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could however, Lestrade barked a laugh and called out 'Hey, Johnny, are you gonna strip?'
'Only in your dreams, mate!' John replied with a grin, fully aware from his university and army days of the jokes and banter that occur when a large group of men gather in one place. Eventually the good natured ribbing and laughter quietened down and John began speaking.
'I know that it isn't usual for the father of the groom to give a speech at his son's stag do, but as I won't be given the opportunity at the wedding, I've decided that this is the only chance I'll get to say what I want to say.' At this point he was interrupted once again, this time by one of the younger men who had little grasp of wedding day etiquette. Once it had been explained to him that the speeches were made by the best man and father of the bride, John was able to continue.
'So, my son Jamie. What can I say about him? Hmm, well he has, by some miracle grown up to be a fine man. Not sure how that happened. The last twenty odd years of my life have certainly been eventful. Not only was it a constant battle to get him out of bed in the mornings so that he could get to school on time, but the less said about the day he discovered girls, the better' John gave a little self-deprecating laugh. 'Anyway, all I really wanted to say was that I'm proud of you son, and the person you've grown into, and I know, that ... your mum ... erm ... would ... erm ... be ... errr ... sorry, I'm sorry. I thought I'd be able to do this.' John raised a hand to his face and grimaced slightly as he forced himself to take deep calming breaths.
Several seconds passed before John felt himself to be in control again. He gave a deep sigh and turning to look his son in the eye, he once again began to speak. 'Your mum would be so proud of you Jamie. I hope you know that, and if you and my beautiful daughter-in-law to be are even a quarter as happy as Mary and I were, then you will be the luckiest man alive.' John then lifted his glass from the table, and turning to look at the other guests, he raised his glass in the air and proposed a toast to 'his beautiful boy, Jamie.'
When the other guests had echoed the toast and sipped their drinks, Jamie got to his feet with his own glass in his hand. He thanked the assembled guests and then raised his own glass in toast to his father ' John Watson, the best Dad that ever lived.' Jamie then stepped over to his father and pulled him into a quick hug before moving away slightly, he smiled and quietly said 'Thank you Dad, for everything. I know that I never said it enough when I was younger, but as Sherlock always says: people are idiots.'
John grinned back at his son and replied, 'Yeah, at least we can always count on Sherlock to remove sentiment from the most sentimental of occasions!'
Sherlock, hearing John's comment, smiled softly to himself as he turned away. His face fell when he saw the man now standing in front of him. Scowling, Sherlock growled 'What do you want? Go away Mycroft!'
Mycroft smirked at his younger brother, and raised an eyebrow as he turned and walked away.