I do not own this show in anyway. I am also not British and I haven't had anyone Beta Brit-pick this story for me so please pardon any mistakes in the language and feel free to point them out to me. Now that that's out of the way please enjoy the story.
The first thing Johanna, but please call me John, Watson noticed when she slowly groaned into wakefulness was the rhythmic pounding in her head. Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart and she groaned burying her head deeper into the pillow to escape the dull but persistent headache. As she slowly fought off the growing pain in her head her other senses began to awaken. Scent came first filling her nose with a pleasant smell that was musky, spicy, smoky, and sweet all at once. That smell was soon mixed with the odor of freshly laundered sheets and the subtle smell of stale cigarette smoke. The scent took the edge of the pain off and she breathed in deep.
The next thing she noticed was that she was warm, not uncomfortably so, but warmer than she had been the last few nights with her flats terrible secondhand blankets. She gave a pleased sigh and almost sank back into pleasant slumber. She was almost asleep again when she felt a slight pressure over her waist and moved to dislodge it. Instead the pressure intensified and she found her body pulled back into something that was pleasantly warm, very firm, surprisingly soft, and defiantly alive. She screamed as she threw herself away from the stranger feeling a silkiness she thought was the sheet move with her. She fell off the bed landing hard on her bum somehow noticing that she was wearing a pair of silky light pink and black lace pajamas through her terror.
The stranger shot up at the sound of the scream his wild dark curly hair spilling over his face as a pair of bright blazing crystal blue eyes locked onto her. His blankets hung over him like the fabric couldn't bear to be parted from such magnificence as the statue come to life on the bed. There was a look of pure confusion on his face his dark brows furrowed for a moment before all expression melted away from his face. His eyes raked her body with an intensity that made her feel naked even with the pajamas she was wearing and she blushed furiously. His eyes locked on her left hand and she lifted it to look and saw what had caught his attention. Two silver rings with a small magnifying glass etching on them, the one closest to her knuckle set with a decent sized diamond, sat innocently on her ring finger. Her jaw dropped as she realized they could only be an engagement ring and wedding band. She looked up at his ring finger and saw a silver ring probably with the same magnifying glass engraving as her set on his long pale ring finger.
What little color he had drained from his face and he threw the sheet off and was off the bed in the time it took to blink. John averted her eyes until she caught sight of the silky black pajamas he was wearing. She turned to look back at the man who looked like a cross between a marble sculpture and a madman with a trim figure that was almost unhealthy for a man of his height. He had great well defined cheekbones and a face that was almost alien in its structure. She felt plain next to the beautiful man who looked like he could have walked off right out the glossy pages of a magazine. With her dishwater blonde hair and plain features the only thing she liked about her looks was her deep blue eyes that managed to look brown at times. As if she didn't have enough self-confidence issues there was the ugly scar tissue where the bullet had cut through her shoulder which was thankfully hidden beneath the long sleeved pajamas. But he was in a word gorgeous.
He stood pacing for a few moments before turning back to her with another intense stare. It seemed to help him calm down a bit because his eyes lit up and he spoke suddenly and it was like opening floodgates. "Afghanistan or Iraq? I asked you that when we met at Bart's. I deduced that you are a former army doctor with a psychosomatic limp, a therapist, and an alcoholic brother? No not a brother you said sister after my initial deduction, easy mistake I should have known from the way Mike introduced you. I offered to split the flat share and you said we barely knew each other. You said we should get to know each other first. I agreed and we went to lunch. After that it's unclear what happened. Your name is Johanna Watson correct?"
"Yes but you can call me John everyone does and you're Sherlock Holmes?" She said the uncertainty making her voice waver. He did look like the man Mike had introduced her to and if he wasn't the same man then he was a dead ringer for him. She remembered him a bit from yesterday. From what little she could piece together she knew he was a bit of a show off but he was interesting and his deductions were amazing. She'd never met anyone who thought like him before.
Sherlock nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed his head in his hands. John hesitated for a second but got up and stumbled to the bed falling down with little grace beside him when her leg decided to give out under her. She used her good leg and her arms to pull herself up into a sitting position face flushed with embarrassment. She looked at him and found his eyes on her staring with such intensity that it set her already flushed cheeks aflame and made her feel exposed.
"You left your riding crop in the mortuary. I remember you saying that after Mike Stamford introduced us. I think I remember a cab somewhere in there too." She said sounding far away as she searched through her memories.
"And apparently a wedding." The man said pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. John almost giggled and she would have if the situation had not been so intensely awkward. Instead she shifted awkwardly for a second and took a moment to be thankful they were both fully clothed. She probably would have died if she had woken up naked next to a man who was practically a total stranger. Then the blood drained from her face she would have had to take her clothes off to get dressed. Someone could have seen her naked and she hadn't even put on nice underwear. Was she even wearing her own panties or were they new like the pajamas? She pulled her shirt color out just far enough to see the bra and nope. The frilly pink and black lace bra that perfectly matched the pajamas like they were made to go together was not one she'd ever seen before. Apparently life hated her right now.
Sherlock put his hands folded as if in prayer under his chin. "This is a quite a mystery. The only case I've been interested in lately is the serial suicides and I don't recall any recent cases that would require a fake wife to solve. If our marriage was for a case you and I would not have slept in the same bed unless we were in a hotel with a startling lack of vacancies or if we had been exposed to drugs. But neither of those is the answer if so we wouldn't be dressed in pajamas but in our street clothes." He got up and began to pace around the flat speaking at speeds John found impossible to keep up with.
"If we did just get drunk and married I doubt we would have woken up in obviously new high quality silk pajamas. Then there are the wedding rings, new but not a common set, the engraving is unique designed to fit us or at least me judging from the magnifying glass, so custom engraved if not then custom made. If we were drunk it's unlikely that we would have thought to buy them and if we did we wouldn't have bothered getting custom rings. We would have bought a cheap common set with whatever we had on hand or in our bank accounts. You've just been invalidated home from Afghanistan you wouldn't have enough money to afford a decent flat let alone those rings and I am not well off financially either as long as my brother has cut me off. So someone bought these for us. So we are dealing with someone with money enough to spare. Not just someone who could afford it either someone with whom this ridiculous plot would be beneficial. So who? Oh! Oh! Mycroft! This has his name written all over it." Sherlock said springing to his feet after he was done rambling.
"So who's Mycroft? Why does he want us to be married and what are we going to do now? I mean we could just pretend nothing happened and just be flatmates. It's obvious neither of us were in our right minds when we agreed to this. We don't have to tell anyone who doesn't need to know." John said as she looked at the man beside her for some clue as to what she should do.
"Mycroft is my older brother and he probably thinks he can use you to spy on me. As for what we should do I'm going to introduce you to Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said standing abruptly putting on a bathrobe that he grabbed from the back of the door. "Come along you should see the rest of the flat. You are going to be living here after all and it will be exasperating if you don't know your way around."
"I need my cane." She said blushing fiercely and feeling silly as the dark haired man rolled his eyes.
"That limp is psychosomatic. It's not real." He said under his breath but loud enough that it was clear he intended for her to hear it.
"Psychosomatic or not it hurts and I need my cane." She said narrowing her eyes. "I could also use a change of clothes."
He pointed to the corner of the room opposite the door where her cane and a bag of clothing sat slumped against the wall. "I don't believe those are mine." He picked up her cane in both hands and twirled it around a bit before handing it to her. He picked up the bag tossing it at her lightly then he picked up a nice looking suit and a white shirt from the wardrobe and left the room. She sat in silence for a few seconds before changed into her clothes wondering just how her favorite oatmeal cable kit jumper ended up in the Sherlock's room. A knock that simultaneously managed to sound impatient and bored brought her out of that line of thinking.
"Excuse the mess I've only just moved in." Sherlock said as she opened the door and looked into the strangest flat she'd ever seen.
She limped a few steps behind him taking in the eclectic mess that formed the living room and kitchen. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the bull head wearing headphones and the two large windows that made the living room. There were case file boxes scattered throughout the room. There was paperwork skewered with a knife on the mantle and the kitchen looked like a cross between a mad scientist's laboratory and a child's science fair project gone rogue. Clutter was everywhere most of it spilling out of old police filing boxes. She looked at the mantle a blank look falling over her face as she stared into the empty eye sockets of a skull, a real human skull. She pointed her cane at it a blank look on her face. "That's a skull."
"Ah yes a friend. Well I say friend…" He gave a wicked toothy smile and she smiled back in spite of herself.
The door to the flat opened and an older woman with white hair and a friendly face carrying a silver tray with tea on it walked into the room. She smiled brightly. "I brought you tea Sherlock."
She looked up and instantly her eyes found John standing behind Sherlock taking everything in with wide eyes. She turned her head toward Sherlock harshly whispering to him in a stage whisper that did little to prevent John from hearing. "Sherlock is this one of your clients? If I knew we were going to have company I would have cleaned up a little. I'll have to make more tea."
The woman who was obviously Mrs. Hudson spoke up louder. "I hope you don't mind the mess too much dear Sherlock can be such a slob but you know what they say about the smart ones. Well whatever your case is I'm sure Sherlock can get it sorted out. He's such a smart boy."
John looked at her stunned for a moment but looked at Sherlock who seemed as unaffected as a statue and decided to tell the truth after all she was still going to flat share with him. "I'm not one of his clients. Hi my name is Johanna Watson but please call me John I hate being called Johanna and I equally despise the nickname Jo. Um I'm not sure how to say this. I'm, I am, what I'm trying to say is."
"Oh just get on with it. Mrs. Hudson. I'd like to introduce my wife John." Sherlock said with a snap in his voice obviously bored with waiting. He turned and gestured to her with a wide theatrical wave of his arms and a smile that was fake but passable.
"You never mentioned a wife and why wasn't I invited to the wedding?" Mrs. Hudson said her arms crossed over her chest looking hurt at being left out.
Sherlock let out a dramatic sigh. "It's a recent development Mrs. Hudson."
"You aren't just pretending for a case are you dear?" Mrs. Hudson said as she looked at the former army doctor with what looked like hope in her eyes.
"No we seem to actually be married, but neither of us really remembers what happened last night. But the lack of cases involving married couples indicates that we are actually man and wife. If we do decide to stay married you are invited to the wedding. Mummy will eventually force us to have a real wedding and I'm going to see if I can get a favor out of Mycroft for going along it." Sherlock deadpanned.
"We'll I'm happy for you. It's not right for a handsome young man like you to be alone. Besides you could use someone to keep you out of trouble. I'll go and get you some more tea." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile as she walked out the door shutting it behind her.
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said loud enough to be heard through the door but quiet enough not to harm anyone's hearing.
The two of them looked at each other an awkward air between them. The silence was jarring but neither of them could seem to find any words to say. John looked around the room again, it was nice but she didn't care for the clutter. Then again it wasn't too bad it gave the place character, not that this particular flat needed more character if the eclectic wallpaper, headphone wearing bull head, and stuffed bat were any indicators. In any case they didn't have to wait long for someone to break the silence.
"So how is the happy couple?" A man said as he walked into the living room with all the smugness of a man who was used to being right and had been proven correct again. He was dressed to the nines in a suit that seemed to ooze class, carrying an umbrella in spite of the sunny day. His smile was oily and sly and he used it like one would use a weapon. He sat down in the old red armchair John had been hoping to claim and took the teacup from the tray. He reminded her of Sherlock in a way with the height and the shape of his face though Sherlock was in her opinion much better looking. His hair was short a brown with a hint of red in the colour and he was a bit thicker in the middle than Sherlock. But Sherlock looked like he never ate at all so it wasn't saying much.
"Mycroft!" Sherlock spat. "I knew you'd have something to do with this! This is obviously another one of your pathetic attempts to try and bully me with your so called concern. I'm surprised you find the time between stuffing yourself with cakes and running the country."
Mycroft gave a longsuffering sigh and set down his tea. "The wedding was your idea both you and Dr. Watson were insistent on getting married and even though you were quite drunk at the time you were surprisingly forceful. You usually aren't like that on the rare occasions you do get drunk. Usually you just turn into a blubbering idiot but not to worry I made sure you wouldn't do anything you regretted. I researched Dr. Watson and found her to be an adequate partner for you. Her medical and army training should come in handy as well as the illegal firearm she likes to keep tucked away. So I let you have your way and I even gathered everything you would need for the wedding to be legal. Consider this a favor Sherlock."
John flinched at the mention of her gun and Sherlock bristled in his chair his eyes wild as he shot up.
"A favor! I do not consider this a favor Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted his hand flying up to gesture angrily at his elder brother.
"You should." The man gave Sherlock a smug smile but quickly turned his attention to John. He gave her a different kind of smile, one that was a fake attempt to cover up pity. "I do apologize for any trouble you may have experienced today. I understand that waking up next to my brother must have been a bit of a shock for you. I'm afraid that you may not remember much of last night, but I have made efforts to plan a proper ceremony for you six months from now, that should be enough time for you two to adjust to your newly wedded bliss. As for the rings you can wear them, save them for the ceremony, or choose a new set. Those were unfortunately the best I could do with such a short deadline. I have also taken the liberty of making several plans for a suitable Honeymoon for you to choose from after the official ceremony. Mummy will insist on you having a proper wedding Sherlock and I know you don't want to upset her."
Sherlock sulked into his chair pouting with his limbs sprawled out. "We don't want anything from you Mycroft! We don't want your wedding and we certainly do not want your honeymoon. You shouldn't have interfered in my life and I did not upset her."
"If I hadn't interfered there's a good chance you would have woken up newlyweds in the gutter, passed out drunk with all of Scotland Yard laughing at you. At least this way I managed to save what little remains of your dignity." Mycroft drawled lazily and John frowned as she heard the threat in it.
"My dignity doesn't concern you Mycroft." Sherlock spat the name like it was the foulest curse he could imagine.
"Maybe not but it wasn't only your dignity I was protecting brother." Mycroft said raising an eyebrow in challenge and gesturing slightly toward John with his fingers.
"Are you two going to fight all day?" John said as she closed her eyes against the onslaught of childish arguing. Her headache from earlier was making itself known again and now she had to deal with the two strange men arguing like children on the playground.
Mycroft gave the closest expression he would ever get to rolling his eyes and turned to John. "No Dr. Holmes, or would you prefer for me to call you Dr. Watson I am done trying to talk sense into my brother?"
"I'd prefer Dr. Watson or John either will do." She said a bit snappily the headache and stress of the situation sapping her usually limitless well of patience.
"Dr. Watson it is then. I have contacted your therapist and informed her that her services are no longer needed. I also had Anthea pick up your belongings from your former lodgings she will drop them off along with the wedding planning supplies. She should be over in an hour or so and as far as the plans go just choose whatever you like best from the selections and I'll have my people take care of the rest. I've taken the liberty of adding my name to your phone's contacts list please do not hesitate to call should you ever require my assistance. " Mycroft said as he smiled a proper smile at his new sister-in-law. He shook her hand and gave Sherlock a baleful look before retreating out the door.
"Do take time to tell our parents of your upcoming nuptials." Mycroft called out over his shoulder as he descended the stairs.
Sherlock slammed the door closed dramatically behind him and threw himself down on the couch where he sulked with his arms crossed over his chest.
John looked at the door with a frown pulling at her lips. "I think your brother might be a villain that escaped from a James Bond film."
Sherlock looked up at her looking somewhere between exasperated and curious. "Who's James Bond?"