Marie returned home one day to find the entire apartment surrounded by a full squadron of the emergency police force. It looked like maximum security had been called, between the several police cars and the helicopter. She raised a brow- he didn't.
Marie walked into 221B calmly, walking up the stairs to the flat she now shared with Sherlock. As expected she found Sherlock sitting at his desk, his laptop open before him while Lestrade stood by the doorway, silently fuming. Sherlock, at the very least, had the decency to look sheepish and somewhat contrite as he met Marie's gaze.
Marie sighed, drawing Lestrade's attention to her. He'd been so annoyed and pissed off by Sherlock, he hadn't even heard her enter.
"What did you do?" Marie asked Sherlock.
After hearing about how Sherlock had interrupted an important case for the DI- the Walters family of thieves that Marie had read about in the papers- just so he, Sherlock, could get help on his current dilemma, Marie scolded Sherlock until he thought his ear would fall off.
The brunette woman apologized profusely to Lestrade, who waved it off wearily, while Sherlock sulked in his armchair. After Lestrade left, too tired to even lecture Sherlock as he went to face the mess that had been caused, Marie glanced over at the petulant detective.
He saw her looking his way and pouted, turning his head away from her in a childish fit. She sighed.
"Sherlock…" She began and he groaned.
"Don't start again- how many times do I have to say I didn't mean to interrupt anything important?" He sulked.
She paused and sighed before walking over to him. He ignored her sullenly as she bent to kneel beside him, peering up at him. She patted his knee as she murmured softly: "Sorry, I didn't mean to scold. But I just felt so terrible for poor Greg."
Sherlock pouted but sighed defeatedly when Marie slid onto his lap, worming her way onto him as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him repentantly. He peered down at her as she looked up at him with puppy eyes and forgave her on the spot, knowing he couldn't win against her anyway.
He murmured with a sigh: "You, Miss Spencer, are going to be the death of me."
She grinned a little, leaning up to kiss him softly. He returned it, before he leaned in to deepen it. She pulled away and he frowned but she smiled as she shook her head.
"Hang on." She murmured as she fished for her phone. Sherlock pouted and his frown only deepened as Marie called: "Mycroft?"
There was a pause before Marie began to explain into her phone. Sherlock pursed his lips in annoyance, before he began to kiss Marie's neck as she called in a favor with the elder Holmes. Marie tried to wiggle away, but Sherlock held her firmly and she ultimately gave up, deciding it would be easier to just quickly end the phone call. Mycroft finally agreed to help Lestrade and Marie beamed.
"Thank you, Mycroft." She said cheerfully. Mycroft replied dryly: "Good day, Miss Spencer. I hope you won't waste it entirely in bed with my brother."
Marie blushed bright red and she just hung up in embarrassment. Sherlock saw and he smirked.
"Care to share what my brother said?" He asked innocently and she narrowed her eyes at him.
"You knew he'd know." She accused and he pointed out: "He is my brother."
She groaned, although it quickly melted as Sherlock moved in to kiss her again. He pulled away just slightly to breathe: "I wouldn't mind just spending the day in bed with you."
She giggled a little at that, and Sherlock just grinned as he wrapped her up in his arms, leading them into the bedroom. He slammed the door behind them, completely abandoning his laptop, which was still opened on the empty document titled: 'John's Best Man Speech'.
It was the last day of May and the morning at 221B Baker Street started to the soothing sound of a violin playing from the upstairs flat. Mrs. Hudson smiled as she heard it on her way to bringing tea upstairs.
She walked up slowly, balancing the tray carefully as she listened to the beautiful music playing from behind the closed door to the flat. She opened it to find Sherlock dancing a waltz, the recording continuing to play as he glanced over his shoulder at the landlady.
"Shut up, Mrs Hudson." Sherlock muttered and the elderly woman replied, amused: "I haven't said a word."
The man sighed as he elaborated: "You're formulating a question, and it's physically painful watching you thinking."
He stopped dancing as Mrs. Hudson admitted: "I thought it was you playing."
"It was me playing." Sherlock muttered as he shut off the music.
"I am composing." He explained as he leaned down to write something on the music sheet, and Mrs. Hudson corrected: "You were dancing."
Mrs. Hudson set the tea-tray down while Sherlock said defensively: "I was road-testing."
"You what?" Mrs. Hudson chortled.
Sherlock slammed down his pencil, turning to the woman as he demanded: "Why are you here?"
"I'm bringing you your morning tea." Mrs. Hudson said, stating the obvious as she began to pour it out for him.
"You're not usually awake." She added thoughtfully and Sherlock asked with a frown: "You bring me tea in the morning?"
He sat down in his armchair as Mrs. Hudson laughed: "I haven't in a long time now- usually Marie gets it- but I thought since she's out today, I'd get it for you like olds times."
Sherlock frowned: "You always brought me tea in the mornings?"
"Well, where d'you think it came from?" Mrs. Hudson asked with a laugh as she finished with his cup, and Sherlock muttered: "I don't know. I just thought it sort of happened."
"Your mother has a lot to answer for." Mrs. Hudson muttered as she handed Sherlock his tea and he replied flatly: "Mm, I know. I have a list."
He lifted the cup to his mouth as he muttered darkly: "Mycroft has a file."
He took a sip from his cup as Mrs. Hudson sat opposite him excitedly.
"So," the elderly woman began jubilantly, "it's the big day, then!"
"What big day?" Sherlock asked derisively.
Mrs. Hudson exclaimed aghast: "The wedding! John and Mary getting married! That's why Marie's out so early- she went to help Mary get ready. Must be why you're in such a fine mood." Mrs. Hudson added sarcastically.
Sherlock ignored the last bit as he said flatly: "Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together. What's big about that?"
"It changes people, marriage." Mrs. Hudson said firmly.
Sherlock pretended to think about as he said: "Mmm, no it doesn't."
"Well," Mrs. Hudson shrugged as she commented, "you'll see when you get there."
Sherlock looked at her impassively as he said coolly: "No, I won't."
Mrs. Hudson looked aghast as she asked: "You're not going to ask Marie? Ever?"
When Sherlock remained unmoved Mrs. Hudson muttered under her breath: "The poor, sweet girl."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he said flatly: "Your husband was executed for double murder. You're hardly an advert for marriage."
Mrs. Hudson glared at him as she said sternly: "Marriage changes you as a person, in ways that you can't imagine."
"As does lethal injection." Sherlock commented, giving the landlady a large, fake smile.
Mrs. Hudson just went on: "My best friend, Margaret, she was my chief bridesmaid." Sherlock rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear this. "We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that."
"Aren't there usually biscuits?" Sherlock asked abruptly but Mrs. Hudson just replied coolly: "I've run out."
"Have the shops?" Sherlock snapped as he walked over to the door, hinting for the landlady to leave but Mrs. Hudson just continued her story.
"She cried the whole day, saying, 'Ooh, it's the end of an era'."
Sherlock groaned before he hinted loudly: "I'm sure the shop on the corner is open."
Mrs. Hudson ignored him as she mused: "She was probably right, really. I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early? So sad."
"Mmm. Anyway, you've got things to do." Sherlock said pointedly.
Mrs. Hudson looked over as she replied: "No, not really. I've got plenty of time to-"
"Biscuits!" Sherlock ordered sharply and Mrs. Hudson gasped in surprise at his outburst before getting up indignantly.
"I really am going to have a word with your mother." She muttered crossly and Sherlock retorted: "You can if you like. She understands very little."
"Well, then, I'll have a word with Marie." Mrs. Hudson countered
Sherlock had no reply for that so he simply shut the door after the landlady defiantly. He turned back to the flat with a sigh, hands clenching a little. He glanced at John's armchair before he walked slowly back to his empty room.
"Right, then." He murmured as he pulled off his dressing gown. He stood before the wardrobe, staring at the suit that hung neatly pressed and ready, courtesy of Marie. He took a deep breath.
"Into battle." He murmured as he picked up the suit.
Marie was positively beaming as she watched John and Mary come out of the chapel, man and wife. It was a beautiful Spring day; absolutely gorgeous weather. She had no doubt the wedding photos would come out lovely with the sun shining brightly behind the happy couple.
Sherlock was looking exceedingly uncomfortable and she had tried to soothe him when she could. But between his duties as best man (and consequently spending quite some time with the bridesmaid) and her duties in helping Mary with the preparations for the reception there wasn't a lot of time she could spend with Sherlock.
She was, however, highly amused whenever she saw Sherlock interacting with Mary's bridesmaid, Janine Hawkins. He looked torn between disdain and discomfort as the woman flirted with him. Marie wondered if she should feel jealous, but Sherlock's expressions were too amusing for her to feel concerned.
Marie found the guests' entries into the reception highly entertaining as well. She was standing a little behind the married couple, on the furthest side from Sherlock who stood behind John. Janine stood behind Mary while a lovely woman called Abigail stood with Marie as the other bridesmaids beside Janine.
Marie watched amusedly as Mary's friend David approached. He was an old friend, apparently, and had acted as usher for the wedding. Mary was delighted to see him, saying happily: "David!"
She leaned in to hug him but David backed away, avoiding the hug a little as he said with a strained smile: "Mary. Congratulations. You look, um, very nice."
"Thanks…" Mary replied confusedly.
Marie suppressed a smile as David moved to clap John's hands, saying: "John, congratulations. You're a lucky man."
"Thank you." John replied lightly.
Mary introduced: "Um, er, David, this is Sherlock."
Sherlock grinned at the man creepily. David glanced nervously at Sherlock as he replied: "Um, yeah. We've, um, we've met." He said a little evasively.
Marie giggled a little, remembering what she'd heard one day when she'd woken up and tottered towards the living room.
She'd paused as she heard an unfamiliar man's voice asking confusedly: "Sorry, what?"
Sherlock's voice replied flatly: "Oh, I think you know what. You went out with her for two years."
"A-ages ago. We're j... we're just good friends now." David had replied firmly, but Sherlock had asked, disbelievingly: "Is that a fact?"
Marie lifted a brow as Sherlock listed off rapidly: "Whenever she tweets, you respond within five minutes regardless of time or current location, suggesting you have her on text alert. In all your Facebook photographs of the happy couple, Mary takes centre frame whereas John is always partly or entirely excluded."
David had scoffed as he tried to tease: "You can't assume from that I've still got some kind of interest in Mary?"
"You volunteered to be a shoulder to cry on, on no less than three separate occasions." Sherlock replied flatly. "Do you have anything to say in your defence?"
There was a brief silence where Marie guessed the other man had gone into shock. Sherlock had finished coolly: "I think from now on we'll downgrade you to 'casual acquaintance.' No more than three planned social encounters a year, and always in John's presence. I have your contact details. I will be monitoring."
Marie had almost laughed at that, but suppressed it so as not to ruin Sherlock's moment. David had said in a shaky voice: "They're right about you. You're a bloody psychopath."
"High-functioning sociopath." Sherlock had corrected.
"With your number." He'd added. After a pause, David had stumbled out, terrified.
Back in the present, it seemed David still remembered the encounter as he coughed uneasily and entered the reception hall quickly, avoiding Sherlock's eyes. John glanced at Sherlock questioningly but he turned back to his guests as more people walked up to congratulate the newlyweds.
A few moments later, Marie witnessed yet another amusing encounter. Mary and John had just greeted a woman in a black and white polka dress, her young son shifting from foot to foot beside her impatiently. Mary and John had turned to the boy, but he ignored them, rushing to hug Sherlock.
Sherlock grunted as the boy collided with him and the boy almost squeezed the life out of him as he hugged Sherlock's middle tightly. Sherlock said uncomfortably: "Mm, yes, um, well done in the service, Archie."
The boy's mother said in wonder: "He's really come out of his shell. I don't know how you did it."
Sherlock chuckled nervously as he hesitated: "Um..."
Marie hid her laugh, also remembering that day.
Marie had just returned from work to find Sherlock sitting in a stand-off with the boy, Archie. The boy had been refusing Sherlock defiantly, set against smiling for the bride and groom, holding the rings, and wearing the tux. She'd walked in just as Sherlock was saying: "You really do have to wear the outfit."
"What for?" The boy asked, glancing at Marie as she entered.
Sherlock shrugged as he replied: "Grown-ups like that sort of thing."
"Why?" Archie asked and Sherlock paused.
"I don't know. I'll ask one." He turned to Marie. "Why do grown-ups like that sort of thing?"
Archie also turned to her expectantly and Marie blinked suddenly feeling like she was watching two children instead of one. Marie shrugged.
"Because it looks nice." She replied and Archie wrinkled his nose while Sherlock gave her a look of disbelief. She shrugged and then gestured back at the boy, who had turned questioning eyes on the detective.
"You're a detective?" Archie asked curiously and Sherlock just replied flatly: "Yep."
"Have you solved any murders?" Archie asked and Marie's brows lifted.
"Sure. Loads." Sherlock replied shortly.
"Can I see?" Archie asked, sounding interested for the first time.
Sherlock looked down at the boy, before replying easily: "Yeah, all right."
Marie had watched in silent disbelief as Sherlock showed the boy some horrifying images from some of the data from past cases on the computer
"What's all the stuff in his eye?" Archie asked curiously and Sherlock replied bluntly: "Maggots."
"Cool!" Archie said in awe.
Marie had stared while Sherlock glanced at the little boy, murmuring thoughtfully and appreciatively: "Mm!"
In the present, the mother was still saying to Sherlock: "He said you had some pictures for him, as a treat."
Sherlock thankfully knew better than to be honest, which was a large improvement for the self-proclaimed sociopath, as he said evasively: "Er, yes... if he's good."
He added, patting Archie's head awkwardly. Marie choked a little as Archie replied cheerfully: "Beheadings."
Thankfully no-one had heard the boy clearly as he was still somewhat muffled against Sherlock's side. Sherlock saved the situation as he said hastily, pushing the little boy away and inside: "Lovely little village."
"Hmm?" The mother asked as she took her son. "What did you say?"
Sherlock glanced over at Marie who was fighting back her smiles, especially at John's confused expression. His eyes softened as hers twinkled, and the two looked away quickly before they both lost face and burst out laughing.
Inside the reception hall at last, Marie was chatting with Greg while Sherlock was standing beside Janine as they stayed behind John and Mary. Marie was, however, distracted when she saw Mary scarfing down the food. She'd been ill this morning, although she'd waved it off as wedding jitters. And indeed, at the moment, she looked fine as she ate her way through the nibbles happily.
She caught John suddenly straighten up, staring towards the doors and looked over to see a well-dressed military man enter. John walked over to greet the man in a salute. Marie wandered over to where Mary stood, joining Sherlock as the latter asked: "So that's him. Major Sholto."
Marie suppressed a smile as she heard the slight jealousy in Sherlock's tone. Mary had caught it too, and she shared a small smile with Marie as she replied amusedly: "Uh-huh."
Sherlock didn't notice the two women laughing silently at his expense as he asked: "If they're such good friends, why does he barely even mention him?"
"He mentions him all the time to me. He never shuts up about him." Mary commented, lifting her wine glass.
Sherlock paused while Marie smiled- she could hear Mary's teasing tone and knew the older woman was purposefully making Sherlock jealous. Sherlock however, didn't notice it and he asked incredulously: "About him?"
"Mm-hmm." Mary hummed, amused as she took a sip of her wine. She made a face as she muttered: "Urgh. I chose this wine. It's bloody awful."
Marie glanced at her again while Sherlock demanded: "Yes, but it's definitely him that he talks about?"
"Mm-hmm." Mary repeated lightly, glancing amusedly at Sherlock and sending another disgusted look at the wine glass. She also slyly shot a wink at Marie and the younger girl giggled.
She patted Sherlock's arm reassuringly as the man retorted sulkily: "I've never even heard him say his name."
Mary explained: "Well, he's almost a recluse – you know, since-"
"Yes." Sherlock replied shortly. The three turned to stare at the man, Sherlock still impassive while the women's eyes were pitying.
Mary continued quietly: "I didn't think he'd show up at all. John says he's the most unsociable man he's ever met."
"He is? He's the most unsociable?" Sherlock asked incredulously and Mary just hummed: "Mm."
Sherlock muttered petulantly: "Ah, that's why he's bouncing round him like a puppy."
Marie laughed outright then and Sherlock looked at her accusingly. Mary was also smiling in amusement and she hugged the man's arm as she cooed: "Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know."
Sherlock paused a little before he muttered: "Stop smiling."
"It's my wedding day." Mary replied. Sherlock grimaced, turning away and pulling his arm away from Mary as he left. Marie shared a smile with Mary before going off to follow her sulking boyfriend as he walked off towards the back corner of the room.
"Someone's jealous." She teased and Sherlock growled at her. She laughed and patted his head fondly as she soothed: "Aw, come on, Sherlock. You're my first- can't you be satisfied with that?"
His face immediately softened like she'd hoped it would. He pretended to think about it before he leaned in, murmuring: "I don't know. I think I need convincing."
She looked at him with raised brows.
"Me having sex with you every night isn't enough proof?" She teased and Sherlock grinned.
"Nope- that's my proof that you, too, are my first." He replied, and before she could protest, he lowered his mouth and captured her lips with his. She melted into his kiss, letting herself slip momentarily into the world she shared solely with the man she loved.
