Sherlock returned to 221B Baker Street about a half-hour later. He'd driven the cab around for about ten minutes, crisscrossing paths and effectively mudding his trail on the off-chance that he was being followed. Afterword, he'd abandoned the cab illegally a little ways off from Scotland Yard - the poor cabbie that was actually responsible for it would undoubtedly have fun attempting to explain away that fee.
When he entered the flat, he first noticed Mary. His best friend's bride-to-be sat at the table, looking over the preliminary seating arrangements for the wedding. John was weaving his way in-and-out of the sitting room, putting away the groceries that he had purchased earlier. The ex-military doctor was the first to notice his friend, and after a moment, he paused - Sherlock could tell he had many unanswered questions.
"You didn't tell me that you had a sister-in-law." John said pointedly. And while he realized that there was much about Sherlock that he didn't yet know, he figured that this would have been something he would have at least mentioned in passing.
"Yes, well... Our relationship isn't necessarily conventional." Sherlock offered nonchalantly. "We attended University together - she fancied Sebastian Wilkes, and Mycroft fancied her. Sebastian and his cronies, well..." if John wasn't mistaken, Sherlock actually looked uncomfortable.
There was a lot that Sherlock had yet to confront about Alice Holmes, many demons in the closet that he had locked away because that was easier... that was safe. When it came down to it, there were many reasons why he'd never told John about Alice. Most prevalent: it simply wasn't his story to tell. He'd carry his disgust for Sebastian Wilkes with him forever, but until Alice was ready, he'd never utter a word - and Wilkes would keep his life.
He returned with a stiff, "I was the one who encouraged their union, and they married less than one month later. They've been married for seven and a half years. No children as of yet, but they do have a dog - a Brussels Griffon named Sparrow." Taking a breath, he finished with, "Anything else you'd like to know?"
John opened his mouth, but Mary cut him off. "Oh, leave him alone, John! I'm sure he had a perfectly good reason for never bringing her up." Mary offered Sherlock a small smile, before patting the seat beside her. "Now, come here and tell me what you think of this seating arrangement."
But John wasn't about to let it slide. "It's just... I... I... She's so normal." He said, exasperated. "Really, she's too normal."
Sherlock could barely contain a smirk. "I do believe she would be quite insulted to learn that she was being referred to as normal."
"Her resume is absolutely brilliant, Sherlock." Mary smiled, before handing over the manila folder with the seating chart. "I wanted to thank you for sending her our way. It was perfect timing, too. Tomas just phoned -,"
Sherlock cut her off. "He phoned in ill, I presume?"
"Why, yes." She blinked, slightly taken aback. "How did you know that?"
"It's only logical, considering how thankful you are for my taking the time to find a supply organist." Sherlock said matter-of-factly. "You're a little light on guests, Mary. You'll need to invite more people in order to balance out the reception." He made a mental note of every name in his Mind Palace.
"Oh, I know." Mary gently brushed him off, seemingly unconcerned. Rising off of the settee, she made her way into the kitchen, retrieving her cup of tea. Returning, she continued, "I'm an orphan, you know. All I have to invite are a few close friends." Her bright smile belied her sad words.
Obtaining the phone numbers of these 'close friends' wouldn't be terribly difficult. As the best man, he would be entrusted with the telephone numbers of everyone in the wedding party to ensure that they understood their duties and would be able to perform them to the highest standard possible. From what he had recently learned about the position, he was a giant micromanager for the entire ceremony and reception... he'd just have to channel his inner-Mycroft.
On the list of names, however, one stood out. There was only name listed: Janine. Interestingly enough, this name coincided with the first-name of the PA of one Charles Augustus Magnusson, the Napoleon of Blackmail. From what he understood based off of Mary's somewhat complicated diagram, not only was this 'Janine' a part of the wedding party... she was the Maid of Honor. Sherlock immediately handed the folder back to Mary.
"I think it best if we all have an opportunity to get to know each other better." Sherlock announced suddenly, seeming almost excited by the idea. "I propose that we all have brunch tomorrow afternoon. That will be a perfect opportunity for you to ask her anything you wish to know."
Mary placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling, "I think that that sounds like a marvelous idea - don't you, John?"
"Are you actually planning on making an appearance this time?" John retorted smartly.
Sherlock ignored that last comment, which was probably for the better. "It is official, then. I will be in contact with Alice to ensure that all of the preparations are in place." A pause, "Oh, and if you wish, you can bring the music for her to review as well."
John, apparently still hot over being stood up earlier, stormed off into the kitchen to continue to put the groceries away. This left Mary and Sherlock alone, and so Mary made the agreement for her husband-to-be. "It sounds like a date."
Alice sat at the bench in front of her vanity, legs crossed Indian-style beneath her. Dressed in a royal blue nightgown, which complimented the rich, caramel tan of her skin, and a plush white bathrobe, she looked every bit ready for bed. Mycroft stood a little ways behind her, studying their reflections in the mirror. Finally, brushing her dark chocolate locks aside, he undid the chain from around her neck and placed it into the nearby jewelery box.
Meeting her eyes in the mirror, he finally decided to address the question that had been plaguing his mind over the last few hours. "Why did you take your ring off?"
Alice blinked, before looking down at the handsome 3.5 karat diamond wedding set that sat on her ring finger. It was almost as if she didn't realize she had taken it off at all... that, or she didn't remember. Finally, realization dawned. "Oh, that." She waved him off rather unceremoniously. "It's nothing to worry about."
"Are you stepping out on me?" There - now everything was out in the open. An awkward and uncomfortable silence followed.
"What?" The very idea was deeply unsettling to her, and it was visible in the troubled expression on her face. "Why would you think such a thing?"
"It really isn't such a radical way of thinking." Mycroft informed her matter-of-factly. "You've entered into a routine of leaving and returning at a set time, but give no indication of where you were or who you were with. The marks on your ring finger clearly indicate you've been taking your wedding set on and off..."
Turning back, Alice leaned back and, touching Mycroft's cheek, brought him down to her level. She brushed her lips over the soft stubble that graced Mycroft's cheek, leaving a similar mark to the one she had left on Sherlock's. "What reason would I have to cheat when I have a wonderful husband like you?"
"You flatter me." If she wasn't mistaken, she would've referred to his tone as teasing.
"Have I said anything that isn't true?" Alice turned back, and finished taking off her makeup.
Their eyes met in the mirror once more. After several tense moments, Mycroft was the first to break away. He wandered off to the en-suite bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving Alice to her own devices. The brunette continued to lounge on her vanity bench, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She'd had so many faces in her life time, so many names... It seemed so strange to truly take in her own reflection for a change.
When Mycroft returned, he was in a pair of loose-fitting blue-striped pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt. Upon noticing that Alice was still seated at the bench, however, he frowned. "Something is bothering you. I can tell." There was that matter-of-fact, listless tone again. "Please, don't hide it from me."
Alice forced a smile, absently running a finger over where her necklace had once been. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know that I can tell when you are lying." Mycroft told her, brushing the brown waves away from her shoulder.
"What reason would I have to lie to you?" Alice asked. She made it sound so simple, as if his fears were ludicrous.
"I don't know. That's why I am asking." Mycroft informed her. But, realizing that he would not be able to get the information out of his wife, he decided to switch tactics. "But enough of this. Relax and come to bed."
Now, Alice truly smirked. In a teasing tone, she offered her rebuttal. "Trying to get me out of my nightgown, there, my love?"
Mycroft took her hand and helped her down off of the vanity bench. She continued to hold his hand until she made it to the foot of the bed, at which time she plopped down face-first onto the mattress. Mycroft watched as the nightgown bunched around his wife's legs, revealing miles of healthy caramel skin. "Not tonight."
He climbed into bed beside her, watching as she pulled the blankets up over her body. He could tell that something was bothering her, that something was on her mind. However, she refused to open her mouth and tell him about it. He figured that it would come in due time, but then, he'd been waiting seven years for her to confess. He didn't know why he was expecting so much to change on such short notice.
Taking out her book, Interview with the Vampire, she settled down and placed her head upon Mycroft's chest. The British Government placed his left hand on her head and worked his fingers through her gentle chocolate waves, watching as she cracked the spine and opened to her place. He had work tomorrow and had every intention of waking up early, so he would nod off first. Undoubtedly, Alice would follow around two o' clock in the morning.
"Goodnight." Mycroft whispered to his love, kissing her forehead softly.
Alice offered him a small smile, before moving a tad closer and whispering, "Goodnight" in return.