Explanations

(Holmes)

Samantha was fast asleep in my armchair when I returned; the trip to Mycroft's had taken longer than usual and the sun had set long ago. Dressed in her own clothing, as well as being wrapped up in my robe; she had pulled the chair close to the window; a tea cup sat balancing on the windowsill. Carefully, I scooped her up, her arms reflexively going around my neck and her head resting on my chest.

"I wanted to see the snow, I've never seen actual snow before," she yawned; her breath was sweet and warm.

"It's a bit early for snow," I said quietly so I wouldn't wake her completely.

I laid her down onto the bed, removing my old robe from her body and pulling the covers around her.

"It's pretty," she whispered, her silver lined eyes smiling up at me for a moment before she fell back asleep.

I built up the fire so she would be sure to keep warm, and then took a seat in my chair by the window, puffing on my pipe as I watched the snowflakes fall.

"Holmes," someone said as something was pushed into my chest. "Get up Holmes!"

Quickly, I opened my eyes to see Watson standing before me, cane grasped firmly in his hand with a scowl upon his face.

"We need to speak about this issue with your brother."

"There is nothing to discuss Watson, I shall deal with it when the time comes," I said leaning back and letting my eyes rest.

"Will that be before or after you inform Samantha about the matter," Watson pried.

"It will be when ever and which ever I decide," I remarked, standing from my chair and eying the empty bed from the corner of my eye. Surely she was off with the future Mrs. Watson; and hopefully too busy to notice my recent off-putting mannerisms. It wasn't fair to keep her in the dark about this, especially after she had left her world behind to visit mine, even if it was only a temporary situation. I had decided to tell her, but not until after the wedding, then she could decide whether or not she wanted to remain here and aid me with the events surrounding my brother's country home.

(Samantha)

"Isn't it beautiful?" Hannah said adoringly as she swished the bottom of her dress along the floor. It was; with a corset style intricate top and perfectly placed ripples that flowed throughout the bottom in a soft off white color. The seamstress had managed to fold the scraps into two large flowers and had them placed right along the top of her thigh area. Appropriate, with a modern twist; and everything I would have expected out of her.

But my mind was elsewhere; far off from the world of fabric flowers and lace.

I had vaguely remembered Sherlock moving me from the chair to the bed, as well as waking up alone while he snored softly in the very same chair, feet propped up against the window sill. I had promised John I'd do my best to understand his reason for keeping quiet about his visit to Mycroft's.

"Its fine Hannah," I flatly answered her, as the elderly woman on her knees near my hip stuck me with her needle once again. "I can feel that you know," I said as I flinched away from her wrinkled hands.

"So sorry dear. Almost done now," she replied apologetically.

"Fine? What do you mean fine?" Hannah marched across the dress makers shop and stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. "This is about the biggest day of my life and all you have to say is fine?" Hannah snapped. "Get out of that head of yours for two seconds and share the moment with me, enjoy yourself and stop thinking about whatever trouble that sneaky sleuth of yours is up to."

It was hard not to think about it; Sherlock had a habit of making himself comfortable in my mind, overtaking any other thoughts I might have. But she was right, I was here for my friend; and for her I would suck it up and make sure she was the happiest bride London had ever seen.

"Ow!" I jumped as the seamstress used me as her human pin cushion once more.

"There we go dearie, that should just about do it then." She got up off her knees and brushed off her hands, carefully tucking a needle away between the top folds of her dress. "Pretty as a field of flowers on a fresh spring day the two of you are," she smiled, stopping briefly to fidget with some of Hannah's beading. I studied myself in the mirror, the pale yellow square cut dress clinging to me in all the right ways, the satin fabric flowing out and pooling around my feet. It had beading at the top as well to mirror Hannah's, just enough to make it stand out, but I was quick to tell her that I refused to be in one of those get-ups covered with more frills and lace than the entire contents of my closet at home.

"Well look at you Sam," Hannah said coming up behind me. "You look nice when you dress like a girl, maybe you should try it more often."

"Oh shut up," I laughed. "You look great Hannah, really."

"I know," she beamed, running her hands down the length of her dress and admiring herself in the mirror. "Three days Sam. Three days and I will be Mrs. Hannah Watson," Hannah said softly as she played with the ring on her finger. "I only wish my parents were here." With a sad smile she turned and went to sit on the pedestal in the center of the room.

"Hey now, don't get yourself down, you're supposed to be happy remember. Big beautiful wedding with your kind doctor. Besides, I bet once they do find out they'll be happy to throw you another one." I said in an attempt to get her to smile.

"You think so?" she asked.

"I know so," I grinned grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet. "Now let's get back before it drops below freezing out there."

Sherlock was studying the jars of mice on the desk when I entered the room, turning each one of them around and scribbling down notes in a small red leather bound book.

"Good evening Samantha dear," he said with out looking up from his work.

"Hey," I whispered, sitting down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. He said nothing, continuing to examine the contents of each jar. He glanced up at me when he was finished then with out a word got up and went to sit on the bed. Resting his elbows on his knees he put his head in his hands.

"Are you angry with me Samantha?" his muffled voice asked.

"What aren't you telling me Sherlock?" I countered.

He sighed and rubbed his scalp. "Are you angry?" he asked again.

"Upset yes, angry no…not yet anyway." I went and took my place beside him. "So what are you hiding? I know you want to tell me Sherlock, so what's holding you back?"

"You are," he said plainly.

"What do you mean I am?" I said accusingly.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter," he muttered, shaking his head. Sherlock got up and went to stand at the window with his back turned to me.

"What exactly doesn't matter about it Holmes?" I spat out. "The things you said to me while I lied in your bed, I didn't seem to be holding you back then. Was I holding you back while you went through withdraw and I went in search for your Watson? Or maybe, I held you back by keeping you in Atlanta, while everything I thought I knew about my parents was shattered right in front of me."

"Samantha don't-" he attempted to cut in.

"No you don't! Don't tell me I'm holding you back and then tell me it doesn't matter. Unless it's me that doesn't matter." I shouted.

"You don't understand Samantha," he growled, finally turning to face me.

"Then make me understand Sherlock! Tell me what the hell is going on in that damned head of yours!" I waited for him to say something; he just stared at me with darkness in his eyes and kept his mouth shut. I grabbed a coat and went for the door. "I need some air," I whispered, pulling on the handle. I was pressed up against the door as Sherlock's hand pushed it closed, shaking the door frame.

"Would you like to know what I'm thinking Samantha?" he asked in a rough tone, his body pressed up against my back.

"Perhaps you would like to hear about how for months my brother has been pestering me to get started on his case and I told him to wait until I had the chance to see you again." Sherlock spun me around and pinning me to the door once more.

"What's holding me back Samantha, is your own indecisive mind, on whether or not you intend on staying with me, or leaving in three days."

"And why is that Holmes?"

"Because if you leave there will be no way to know when I will see you again," he whispered.

"So tell me."

"Will you stay?" he asked, adjusting himself so his face was inches away from mine.

"Will you tell me?"

Sherlock sighed and pressed a kiss on my cheek. "After the wedding, you have my word."

"Then that's when you'll have my answer," I whispered dropping my head onto his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his body.

"Come to bed Samantha, it's far too cold for you to be wandering about, and I really don't wish to argue with you any further," Sherlock said, his breath warm on the top of my head.

"Me either," I replied letting him slip the coat from my shoulders.

The next few days dragged on painfully slow; each of us trying to be careful not to press the others buttons. Mrs. Hudson was busy chasing Hannah around making sure everything was on schedule and John was tying up some loose ends with his patients so he could take Hannah to Paris on their honeymoon.

It was going to be a small ceremony; thirty to forty guests followed by a small reception. We took separate cabs to the church; Hannah and I in one, John and Sherlock in the other, then went off to our separate rooms to get ready to get things started. Hannah was more than happy to have Mrs. Hudson armed with at least three other women fidgeting with her dress and hair, which was pinned up in tight curls on top of her head. I was lucky enough to escape the wrath of their combs, convincing them to let me wear it down, my soft dark curls tumbling down well past my shoulders.

It was almost time now, Mrs. Hudson sent me to check and make sure things with John were all right and that everyone was in their proper place. Sherlock stepped out from the door down the hallway just as I was about to knock. Dressed in a crisp black suit, with his shirt cuffs unbuttoned and sticking out of his jacket and his tie askew. He froze at the sight of me, the corners of his lips twitching up.

"Samantha I…you…you look…" he stammered as he looked me over. I reached up and gave him a soft silencing kiss.

"Thank you," I whispered, resting my forehead against his. "Everything all set?"

"Mmm, it would appear so," he replied.

"Good, I'll see you again soon then Mr. Holmes," I said, momentarily considering fixing his tie, but deciding that it fit him just the way it was.

"I'm looking forward to it Ms. Parker," he grinned, turning on his heel and heading down the hall.

The wedding itself was beautiful, poor Mrs. Hudson sitting in the front pew clutching a handkerchief as if it were going to be ripped from her aged hands. The pair of them looked genuinely happy as they exchanged their vows and sealed the deal with a lingering kiss. The reception was just as nice; various flowers wrapped around the columns in the room, a string quartet providing soft flowing music for the happy new couple to dance to. Hannah had got the wedding she had always dreamed of, and I don't think she could have looked any happier as their dance came to an end.

I stood arm-in-arm with Sherlock, enjoying the music and the wine when a tall stout man with familiar dark hair and facial features and stormy gray eyes approached us.

"Well now," he said with a smirk on his face. "So this must be the intriguing creature that has captivated my brother's mind. Mycroft Holmes," he said taking my hand and squeezing softly. "I hold a small place in the British government."

"He is the British government," Sherlock mumbled from my side.

"Samantha Parker," I said taking back my hand.

"Well Ms. Parker, would it be too much trouble to ask you for a dance? If my brother doesn't mind of course," Mycroft asked.

"Samantha if fully capable of making her own decisions Mycroft, she does not require any type of approval from me," Sherlock said with a low tone, tightening his hold on my arm.

"I'd be glad to Mr. Holmes," I said sweetly, patting Sherlock's hand assumingly, attempting to ease some of the tension that surrounded us like a thick fog.

Mycroft led me to the middle of the room and took the lead. For man of his size he seemed to have no trouble guiding me around the dance floor in time with the music.

"You hide your injuries well my dear, then again, you've had enough practice doing that throughout your life time so I suppose it's only natural for you," Mycroft said slyly as we moved together.

"No need to impress me Mr. Holmes, I know nearly as much about you as I do your brother," I replied.

"Is that so? And how is it that an inept baker won over the heart of my dear brother. That is no easy task you know," Mycroft chuckled.

"Nothing, involving Sherlock, is ever easy."

"Of course it isn't, or else he would have told you about my situation by now; but it seems, that for some reason you are in the way," Mycroft said as he turned me around.

"And what situation would that be?" I asked.

"Ahh, he'll be upset with me if I say anything more," he replied.

"That doesn't seem like that would be anything new," I said, arching an eyebrow.

Mycroft chuckled and looked back in Sherlock's direction. "Indeed it would not," he replied. "A few months back I lost one of my house maids," Mycroft began.

"Lost as in how?" I asked.

"Lost as in gone, vanished, one would seem to think that she just disappeared. At first I thought maybe she just grew tired of her work and returned to her home…but then I lost another…and a total of six since then," he said quietly, as if the people around us were listening in.

"Maybe you're just not pleasing to work for," I said half jokingly.

"Perhaps, but days before each disappearance, each one of them kept going on about something shimmering beyond the hedges," he said with raised brows. I abruptly stopped our dance and stood still in the middle of the floor, locking eyes with Sherlock, who was standing next to John.

"Well," I said sucking in my bottom lip. "That explains everything."

A/N: Oohhh dear, first let me apologize for making you wait so long… Pepperony Holiday challenges have invaded my Christmas spirit, and I had missed writing the pair of them so much I just couldn't stop. But hopefully most of that has worked it's way somewhat out of my system and I can get back to my favorite duo. Hope you all enjoyed, let me know, and feel free to throw fruit cake at me if you'd like :P

-Shelly