Hey! So I'm on a summer break now and with nothing to do until results day I decided to write again. This has helped keep my minds of off things and is really just a story that I have circulating in my head. I may not be the best writer but I just thought 'Hey, might as well'.

Anyway, now I have the little introduction out of the way, enjoy!

"Sherlock, what is this?"

Waving a dismissive hand in John's direction as he lay face up on the sofa, his typical 'mind palace' position, Sherlock replied offhandedly, "Doesn't matter."

Staring down at the rectangular card clutched in his hands, the black swirls and sophisticated writing contrasting over the lilac background. John reread the note slowly and carefully, as if trying to understand:

You are cordially invited to the wedding of George Pilverton and Sherlock Holmes

R.S.V.P

Before John even realised, the card was snatched from his hands. "You're getting married?"

Sherlock remained with his back to John though a faint reply was heard, "Yes, I am."

Silence. No one dared move. At that exact moment John could not define what he was feeling, all he knew was that he didn't like it.

"So…." Good one John, that certainly isn't awkward. "Who is George Pilverton?"

"Family friend."

Moving his hand through his hair, John shook his head as he tried to understand. "Why haven't I heard of him?" Oh god, John could wince at how much of a clingy friend he was being.

That question seemed to shock Sherlock into moving as he collapsed back into his former position. "Didn't seem important."

"Didn't seem-. Sherlock, I like to think we're close enough to tell each other if one of us was planning on getting married. Not wait until the invitation came through the post. Or. Better yet. At least tell each other who we are dating."

As John was left to pace back and forward in frustration, Sherlock turned his head to John and replied. "I didn't think it was a necessity to tell you."

Shocked, John stared wide eyed at Sherlock. "Oh, alright then."

Lifting his head in John's direction, Sherlock eyes glanced briefly over John's posture before moving to sit upright. Knees apart as he lent forward on his elbows. "John, I didn't mean to hurt you, but I don't deem it important to tell you something that I am trying to forget."

Looking into Sherlock's eyes, John knew he was telling the truth. "Then why?"

"Family matters."

Collapsing down into his chair, John placed his hands over his face as he says uncertainly "Family matters? Family friend? Right... What has your family got to do-?"

"My mother."

"Your mother?"

"Yes. My mother deemed it to be important that I got myself a husband and as such I am I am undergoing this wedding to one –"

However unaffected Sherlock tried to appear, John knew better. "You wouldn't do this without a reason, so why?"

Pausing slightly, Sherlock took a deep breath before replying, "I was told to marry – or else my money would be cut off. It seems that mummy has been conversing with Mycroft and they both believe this is to be the best option. And before you ask, since my drug days, Mycroft has been the main control of my bank accounts. Deeming me untrustworthy to look after them on my own. Mycroft can easily cut off my access to my account and my mother has realised that."

"So... You're doing this for money?" John relaxed back into his seat, clutching the sides of the armchair tightly in his hands.

"Essentially yes." He then turned his head quizzically to the side, John would have laughed at the look of confusion on Sherlock face, but perhaps now isn't the time. "It's only a marriage John, I don't see why you are reacting the way you are."

That was it, John thought. "Sherlock, this is a marriage were talking about, a life-long thing, when two people love each other. You can't just marry someone because you mum is going to cut off your bank account."

Before John could think, Sherlock took two long strides to tower over John, piercing him with his all-seeing eyes. "I don't see how this is any of your business."

Standing up now, not near to the height of Sherlock, John strained his neck upwards to maintain eye contact. "Not my business. Sherlock, this is your life we're talking about, you can't just marry someone this way. What does George Pilverton think about this?"

Placing his arms tightly around himself Sherlock responded off handily "He doesn't care. My family has a respected title that is looked proudly upon in many businesses. He gets the title and forthcoming promotion, I get my money."

"And what happens then Sherlock? You'll be married. Will you live with him?"

Stepping back Sherlock waves John away before heading towards the kitchen. "No, I will stay here, all that is required is occasional outings together to parties and such. Once we are… married, of course it is expected to undergo a honeymoon period but after that all should be the same."

"It won't be the same though will it."

Turning his sharp eyes back to John, John felt rooted to the spot at the intensity behind his glare. "John, it is decided, don't make it any harder than it needs to be."

"Any harder- Sherlock, this is ridiculous-"

"Ridiculous or not, it is happening. Now I would very much appreciate if you dropped this conversation."

Sherlock's piercing glare, combined with his raised eyebrow only frustrated John further. He couldn't get his head around it. Why would Sherlock do this just for money? Standing stock still, John broke the tension by reaching over for his coat on the back of his chair. "I need to clear my head."

Watching out the corner of his eye, Sherlock's glare softened, and if John knew any better, he would have thought he looked sad. But before John could say anything, Sherlock looked down at the kitchen table and said dismissively "Of course."

Ignoring the pain in his chest, John turned and left the flat, marching down the stairs and out the front door without even a passing remark to Mrs Hudson. John refused to look back. He knew what he needed to do. As soon as he turned the corner he quickly took out his phone and pressed '3' for speed dial. Placing the ringing phone against his ear, he stood stock still as he stared at a nearby security camera. Tapping his foot in agitation.

"Mycroft. We need to talk. Now."

Watching John leave the flat he heard the echo of the front door slamming through the walls of 221B. Ruffling the curls over his forehead, he peered outside as John marched further and further away, never looking back as he turned the corner. He knew it was coming, he couldn't hide it forever, but it didn't mean it wasn't a shock. Though John did react like he thought, he didn't anticipate this sort of pain in his chest.

Looking down at the card still clasped tightly in his hand, Sherlock reread the name. George Pilverton. They met once and he was hardly interesting- not like John. He was slightly smaller in height to Sherlock and had a larger, yet well-defined figure. His hair was brown and slicked back, with blue eyes and a face that most deem as attractive, Sherlock though couldn't see what there was that made him special. He was easy to read and as such, held no real mystery.

That was one thing Sherlock couldn't figure out. Why did his mother choose him? His family holds no major title, and although well-liked, there were plenty of other people that she could have chosen from. So, why George?

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a soft moan coming from his pocket. A text. Peering down for conformation, he was met with a short text from John

Be back soon.
JW

Although the text wasn't needed, Sherlock couldn't help but relax slightly at the conformation. Collapsing back down to the sofa, Sherlock let his eyes close slowly as the case information came back to him. John will be back soon. Then they will talk.