This is my first (posted) 'Sherlock' fanfic, so expect easy-to-foil plots and fluff that will curdle the soul of the most experienced of Cuteness Overlords. For those of you reading 'Keep Your Friends Close', don't worry! Next chapter will be out soon.
Also, yes. I reuse names. Stahp judging me! D:

Chapter 1: The Second Morstan

Jess Tyler sat huddled at a table in Starbucks, nursing a mocha, wrapped in a scarf and coat over an evening gown. She had a perfect view of the dark outside world as it passed her by, to the tune of a whirring coffee machine. The young woman, decorated with jewellery, with her hair tied up in a bun, stared up at the moon. Its light was somewhat- ahem- outshone by the lights of the town. They reflected off her glasses and back out into the cool night. A middle-aged couple entered the Starbucks, causing a gust of cold air to suddenly shoot up Jess' spine, despite the layers.
Jess was not familiar with Bristol. Not at all. Everything about it- from the people to the streets- were different. Even the country itself seemed a little alien to her, despite her heritage. In fact, Mary's choice in venue should not have surprised Jess at all. From the little the two of them knew about their mother, they knew that Mrs Morstan had gotten married in Bristol and spent quite a few years living there.

Jess was reminded once again of the irony of her current situation. Her sister had just gotten married- she was Mary Watson, now. At around the same time, Jess was going back to her maiden name- Morstan. She'd left Mr Tyler behind in Ireland. He deserved it. Jess had not.
Turning from that train of thought, which would no doubt leave her sobbing in her hotel room, ordering room service and watching awful TV until the morning, Jess thought once again of the happy couple currently dancing the night away at the reception.
Of course, Jess was more than happy for her sister. Ecstatic. Only...
They'd been so close once. Mary had been Jess' only friend for the longest time, until they'd been separated. That was perfectly normal for orphans. Until they're old enough to live alone, of course. Then they should've reconnected and kept the family bond alive. Instead, Jess had received a wedding invitation out of the blue after years of silence on both ends. She'd had to attend, out of respect, but...

At least she'd had interesting conversations with those seated at her table. She'd learnt a great deal about the groom, Doctor John Haymish Watson, from his friend Greggory Lestrade. He was a Detective for Scotland Yard and had met John through the Best Man, Sherlock Holmes. Strange, but Mr Holmes seemed to be the main topic discussed at their table. The only one who wasn't as keen as the others was a man with a striking resemblance to the 'consulting detective', as Lestrade put it. At first, Jess had feigned interest to be polite, but as the evening went on, she became more and more intrigued in the strange man with sad eyes sitting at the top table. Whether that was his nature or the day that was in it was unknown to her.
When Mr Holmes stood up to give his Best Man's speech, Jess' interest spiked. He was the living embodiment of nerves, insanity, mystery and cheekbones. The way he'd acted was completely absurd, but at least he could write a decent speech.

Jess' attention was drawn back to the present in the surprisingly chilly Starbucks when she realised her cup was empty. She sighed in disappointment, leaning back in her chair for a second. The last few dregs at the bottom of her cup swirled around in what would likely be an overwhelming amount of caffeine and cocoa that would assault her tastebuds. Jess stared at the not-quite liquid for a moment, weighing the pros and the cons for drinking it. Eventually, the need for chocolate outweighed her disgust and she downed it.
Jess figured she might as well head back to the hotel. The reception was probably in full swing and they might notice if she didn't at least make an appearance for a dance or two.

Her heels clicked satisfyingly as Jess made her way down the garden pathway towards the reception. Her hands were buried deep in her pockets and she was staring and the ground as she walked. In other words, she had no way of knowing she had almost crashed into the world's first and only consulting detective. Instead, she saw a slight shadow and felt a breeze as a dark coat swept by her. Her hands came out of her pockets instinctually, almost as a self-defence means, though they stayed by her side. Jess turned to look after the dark figure striding down the path, away from the loud, colourful room filled with people. The figure was leaving the wedding early. Then, to Jess' surprise, the figure turned on its heel. She recognised him at once as Sherlock Holmes. He seemed to study her for a second, as though she were a book and he was merely flipping the pages to learn the facts. It was unnerving, having those cold eyes trained on her. They were certainly sad. A whole lot sadder than she'd seen earlier. The dark look on his face could've been interpreted to mean many things, but Jess had seen it enough during her life to know exactly what it was, no matter how hard he was trying to fight showing it. Possibly even feeling it.

Two scenarios came into the woman's mind. One of which was much more plausible, given the speech. In that heartbeat, Jess widened her eyes in surprise as she realised why Mr Holmes had looked so sad all day. Then, before she could utter a word, the man swept towards her, his long legs making short work of the path. Before she could blink or move or even think, Mr Holmes took Jess' face in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers. It was urgent, as though the world was about to end, and filled with unspoken emotion. It told a hundred stories, and not a single one of them was meant for her.
Still, after the momentary shock, Jess couldn't help but admire his technique.
When he finally broke the contact and took a step away, both people had to catch their breath. Sherlock- there was no way she'd be referring to him as Mr Holmes anymore- kept his eyes trained on the ground.
"I'm sorry." He croaked. Then, without another word, the strange man with untold secrets disappeared down the dark garden pathway, away from the party, leaving a dazed Jess in his wake.

Wow, that was really out of character, Sherry. You've got some explaining to do! And (assuming you temporarily forgot the warning in the summary) who was that kiss really for? Such cliffhanger! Much confuse! Very ship!