The day had finally come. Both John and Sherlock were immensely excited.

John was in his flat with Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, getting ready. Mrs Hudson was fixing his hair.

"John, oh, I can't believe you're finally getting married! You should have seen Sherlock this morning, he was on a cloud!" Mrs Hudson buzzed cheerily. She was wearing a nice purple dress.

"Yea, well done, mate. It took you two long enough," Lestrade punched John playfully in the arm as he walked past. He was wearing a grey tuxedo and had a white flower pinned to his breast pocket. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad for you!" He relaxed on the couch, drinking a beer. "Just curious, did you invite Anderson?"

"Do you think we invited Anderson?" John looked at him, doing up his bowtie.

"It's just that… I'm pretty sure he said he was coming. I don't know how well that will go down with Sherlock but…" Lestrade finished his drink.

"No, no, no! If he's there, you'll ignore him or play friendly. I don't want anything to ruin this day!" Mrs Hudson chirped from the kitchen. "This has to be perfect,"

Mycroft sat in his lounge, drinking tea. He was in a plain brown suit. He had the keys to the limo in his hand. "You can still back out, brother."

Sherlock burst out of the dressing room, his white shirt unbuttoned and black tuxedo jacket hanging loosely on his shoulders. He was doing up his pants and trying to fix his hair at the same time.

"You don't understand, Mycroft!" He bellowed at his brother, "You never will! Caring isn't a weakness, it's a stronghold. If I didn't love and care for John as much as I do, I wouldn't be here," He stepped right up to his seated brother, talking calmly and scarily quiet now. "I think you're a coward. You know that, though, don't you?" He finished as he walked back into the dressing room.

"Yes, quite. Nevertheless, I suppose I'm happy for you then. Hurry up and get ready, you'll be late!" He left and readied the limo.

John took a white limo with Mrs Hudson to the wedding. It was being held in a church near the country in London. John had gone there when he was a kid. How shocked the pastor there would be to find that his little Sunday school John had gone to war and come back gay. John laughed at the thought.

"I can't say how happy I am for you two! You'll make a gorgeous couple! And you'll be perfect parents!" Mrs Hudson was still chirping, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"Thank you, I'm happy too. I can't actually get my head around the fact that I'm going to be a husband. I'm going to be married, Mrs Hudson!" John put his hands on her knees and they talked and laughed happily until they got there. It was all set up, everyone was seated. It was exactly how John had planned it. (Sherlock had decided it best that John organize the wedding.) John opened the door for Mrs Hudson, who then walked him into the chapel.

There were about forty people there in total. John's family and friends, Sherlock's few friends and some colleagues that ended up on the guest list. Everyone was smiling pleasantly as John and Mrs Hudson walked down the aisle. John was shaking slightly and Mrs Hudson had started to cry. Just as they reached the altar and Mrs Hudson sat down, the next car pulled up. In walked Sherlock and Mycroft, a good foot and a half between them. Neither looked at each other, but Sherlock was smiling up at John, while Mycroft grinned sarcastically at some old ladies.

Finally, John and Sherlock were standing next to each other, hand in hand. The priest stood in front of them, wearing a red stocky robe and a strange headpiece that covered his face.

"I love you, John" Sherlock whispered before the priest started.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The priest yelled out. His voice sounded eerily familiar. "Today we witness a great and foooooolish act. Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, has made a fatal mistake!"

John suddenly looked terrified, realizing who the voice belonged too. Sherlock was backing away, but he had let is guard down today and was clumsy.

"He fell in… LOVE!" The priest screamed as he ripped off the headpiece. Sherlock was only just getting his footing when Moriarty grabbed John around the neck, held him in a headlock and put a gun to his ear. "Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock! You are too easy! Thank you for another delightfully thrilling encounter." He aimed the gun at John's foot and shot. John yelped. Sherlock launched himself at Moriarty, but he had disappeared. Into thin air, he had just gone. Just. Like. That. Sherlock collapsed onto the floor; he heard Mrs Hudson sob loudly in the background.