==Chapter Nine==
...The Heart Remembers
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee
The more I have, for both are infinite.
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
Sitting beside Jeremy on the edge of the sofa, Edward's heart leapt as his friend began to stir. "Jeremy?"
Jeremy grunted softly, gradually coming to. He turned towards Edward, blinking as he tried to focus. "Ted?" He frowned, sitting up slowly. "What am I doing in your room?"
Edward raised his eyebrows. "Well, you did have rather a lot to drink last night - I thought I'd best keep an eye on you." It was going to be a long time before he'd be able to let his friend out of his sight again - if anything had happened to Jeremy because of his carelessness, he never could have forgiven himself... "How are you feeling?"
Jeremy had arched an eyebrow at 'a lot to drink', but shrugged. "Slight headache... otherwise, not bad at all. What time is it?"
Edward smiled in relief, glancing at his watch. "Quarter to six." He handed Jeremy a glass of water with a couple of aspirin, and added innocently, "Another fifteen minutes and I was going to start weighing the pros and cons of a jug of cold water..."
Jeremy's eyes widened. "That late? Good grief. I don't remember drinking that much..." He shook his head dazedly and downed the aspirin.
Edward masked his slight pang of guilt with a look of exasperated amusement. "What are you complaining about? Looks like you slept off most of the hangover, lucky devil!" Rising, he offered a hand to Jeremy. "And we'd better get going, Patrick's already called twice." Jeremy always needed more time than Edward to get into character, and they still had to get to the theater.
Jeremy sighed and took the hand. "All right, all right... I'm not going out on that stage until I've had some form of dinner, though."
Edward nodded, grabbing his coat; he hadn't been able to eat much himself in the last twenty-four hours. "No arguments here – what d'you fancy?"
Jeremy shrugged and stretched. "Sandwich from Garrick Arms?"
Edward felt his insides freeze, eyes wide. "I think, perhaps," he said hastily, "something a little more substantial?" He highly doubted anyone from Torchwood had thought to wipe the bartender's memory! "Let's go to the Porcupine - they do a decent fish and chips, and I'm starving."
Jeremy looked at him oddly for a moment, but then shrugged again, smiling. "Fine by me. Allons-y."
As it turned out, the TARDIS had a chapel. The Doctor had explained that there were dozens of religions per species throughout the universe—apparently feeling the need to justify the presence of the room. Beth got the distinct impression that he didn't get along very well with any faith, aside from an optimism that things would always turn out right in the end. Thus, it was very sweet of him to be willing to perform a modified Anglican wedding ceremony.
The Time Lord was flipping through a small book when she and Sally entered. Dr. Watson was already there, back in a normal Victorian suit. He looked positively spellbound at the sight of Sally in her simple but elegant wedding gown and veil. It was all courtesy of the TARDIS, laid out and ready for her in her bedroom when she and Beth had gone to it to get her ready.
Sally herself looked radiant. Beth had been to a handful of weddings in the past, and she had to say that Sally looked no less joyful than any other bride she'd ever seen.
In all honesty, Beth could still hardly believe that she was actually getting to see this. The mysterious second Mrs. Watson, a one-off mention by Sherlock Holmes in 'The Blanched Soldier', was turning out to be a girl from the early twenty-first century, and Beth not only got to watch the wedding but partake in it as the Maid of Honour. She didn't quite dare to hope that she and Sally could get to be friends, but she wanted it to happen. She couldn't help that…
The Doctor looked up, eyes alight. "Well then, shall we start?"
Sally's eyes and smile widened, and she nodded.
Watson was still staring at his bride. Behind him, Sherlock raised eyes to the ceiling, nudged his friend (making him start), and gave him a mildly pointed look. Watson blushed and nodded at the Doctor as well, beaming.
The Doctor nodded back, smiling. "All right. Been a long time since I've done this, but I'll do my best." He cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Time-travel weddings are not new—they've happened before and they'll probably continue until the end of Time. And, by the nature of the relationship, the commitment must be strong."
His smile growing, he turned to Watson. "John Watson, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God's holy ordinance?"
Watson looked tenderly at his bride, smiling mistily. His love was written in every part of his features—in his eyes, in his mouth… the way that Beth had seen her father look at her mother. Yes, these two would definitely be all right. "I do," he murmured.
The Doctor turned to Sally. "Sally Sparrow, do you take this man to be your lawful wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to God's holy ordinance?"
Eyes shining, Sally held and caressed Watson's hands and murmured, "I do."
The Doctor glanced at Beth and gave a small nod.
She stepped forward and gave the bride and groom their rings, then stepped back again.
The Doctor nodded for Watson to proceed, and murmured, "'With this ring, I thee wed.'" Watson slipped the ring on Sally's finger, echoing the words reverently, and the Doctor repeated the process with her. Once that was finished, he burst into a brilliant smile. "Then by the power vested in me by many different parties that shall go unnamed, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He grinned at Watson, who grinned widely back. "You may kiss the bride."
Sally smiled expectantly, positively shining of her own accord.
Watson's smile became awestruck as he turned to Sally and lifted the veil. He cupped her cheek reverently, caressing it, then leaned in and kissed her warmly, drawing her into his arms. Sally wound her arms around him, looking blissfully content.
Behind the couple, Sherlock's expression was genial enough, but his eyes were troubled. They slid away from the Watsons as if unable to watch. Of course, his initial reaction to Watson's first marriage hadn't been pleased… did he think he was losing his best friend? Surely he knew better than that!
She wished he would let her help.
(Scene rating: PG13)
Hand in hand, the newlyweds entered the bedroom corridor. Watson halted at a sudden thought, turning to Sally and asking hesitantly, "Where would you prefer, love: your room or mine?" Of course, the TARDIS could easily alter their living arrangements however they wanted, but if Sally would be more comfortable in a more familiar setting...
Sally tilted her head with a bemused smile. "Yours." She squeezed his hand gently. "Come on, then."
He squeezed back, led her to the door and opened it, thanking providence he'd thought to pick up after himself the last time he was in here - the TARDIS didn't go in for that kind of room service. His chamber was much the same as it had been since the ship first provided it, except that there was now a spacious, comfortable-looking couch beside the fire; a small table sat next to it, which held a tray with an earthenware teapot and two handleless cups.
Sally smiled at the sight and drew Watson over to the couch; he wondered if she could feel his pulse quickening the way he could hers. He sat down beside her, hoping he didn't look as awkward as he felt. They hadn't talked at all about intimate matters - not that there had ever been an appropriate moment! - and it was starting to dawn on him that he really had no idea of how much knowledge or experience she might have on the subject.
Unsure of how to even broach the topic with her, he nodded instead at the mysterious teapot, grateful for the slight distraction. "Feeling adventurous, my dear?"
"Always." Her grin couldn't quite conceal the nervousness in her own expression - Watson wasn't certain whether to be relieved or concerned about that.
He drew the table closer and lifted the lid off the teapot, smiling in pleasant surprise at the scent of the rising steam. "Mm, it's chai - I haven't had this in years!"
"Oh, I love chai!" Sally drew her legs up onto the couch as he poured out the tea, accepting her cup with a raised eyebrow at his look of inquiry. "What?"
"I was just wondering where you acquired a taste for it. I know it's gaining popularity in your time, but it still doesn't seem to have the same following as coffee."
He raised his cup, and she touched hers to it. "Are you kidding me? I used to live in coffee shops, and someone recommended it to me. Sort of a seasonal thing for me, really - I prefer it during the cold months."
"Mm, the spices always make me think of Christmas. I first tried it in..." He closed his eyes as he cast his mind back; "Bombay, I believe. Eighteen-seventy-eight ..." He shook his head. "Lord, that was a lifetime ago!" Newly graduated from medical school, so young and innocent...
She smiled at him fondly. "That wouldn't be quite my lifetime. And you're not that old..." She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
He couldn't help blushing at the compliment, although he still found it hard to believe. "Well, I'm flattered you think so," he smiled, taking her hand in his and kissing it.
She blushed a little herself, teasing gently, "Getting to meet one of the most famous actors to play you kind of puts things in perspective."
"Poor Edward ," Watson chuckled, remembering his surprise at the first sight of the actor's balding head. "At least I can safely promise you never to wear a toupee! The men in my family have always kept their hair, for some reason."
She giggled. "Good thing..." She put her cup down and lifted both hands to run through his hair; "...because I already really like doing this..."
His breath caught, heart beating faster. "Oh, Sally love," he murmured, setting his own cup aside and winding his arm around her waist, drawing her near.
Fingers winding through his hair, she kissed him fully on the lips; he kissed her back warmly, scalp tingling, and lifted his free hand to stroke her hair, a faint hum of frustration escaping him on finding it still pinned up. "May I?" he breathed.
She nodded wordlessly, eyes shining, so close now that he could feel her shivering in what he dearly hoped was anticipation. He turned her gently so that her back was to him, and began carefully drawing the hair pins from her chignon. He'd only taken out half of them before his self-control slipped; overcome by the sight of her slender, elegant neck, he was unable to resist bending his head to bestow a soft kiss on her nape.
He thrilled at the gasp that escaped her. Wanting very badly to hear it again, he kissed her neck just a little lower, just as softly, and was rewarded with a deeper gasp and a husky murmur, "John..."
He smiled at the desire in her voice, murmuring teasingly in her ear, "I gather you approve, love?"
She nodded, swallowing hard.
"Good... because I mean to continue..." he breathed, straightening and planting a soft kiss on the back of her head, "just as soon as I've finished with this..." He drew out the last of the pins, watching raptly as her hair tumbled freely down in a golden cascade, burnished by the dancing firelight.
Sally moaned softly and twisted partway around to look at him, her eyes huge and dark. She raised a trembling hand to his neck, caressing it lightly with the backs of her fingers. He hummed in pleasure at her touch, relieved that she was feeling bold enough to take an active part in proceedings, then bent and kissed her lips again, burying his fingers in her gorgeous hair, so soft and silky...
She echoed the hum, winding her arms around his neck. Delighted by her response, he lowered his head further, trailing feather-light kisses slowly down her neck. His pulse thundered at the sound of her ragged, quickening breath, kisses deepening unconsciously as he continued down her neck - such creamy, satin skin, deliciously warm and flushed under his mouth, her back arching in pleasure, fingers digging into his shoulders...
"...John..."
Her moan of his name suddenly brought him back to himself; he forced himself to slow his kisses and pull back a little, panting. Her eyes were wide, her own chest heaving. "Sally, love...?" He smoothed her tumbled hair back from her face, trying to calm them both down enough to think clearly. "Before we get much further... I think... I think we need to talk..."
Sally took a few moments to catch her own breath as he spoke, eventually murmuring, "What if I said... that you were the first... man ever to give me his number?" She smiled shakily, lifting a hand to his cheek. "Guys seem to be less interested... in girls focused on getting good marks..."
He laid his hand over hers, caressing her fingers, and answered earnestly, "Then I would say... that they were fools, every one... and yet I can't help being thankful for that..." He smiled warmly; "for their loss is certainly my gain."
Sally's eyes shone as she leant forward and kissed him again. He kissed her back tenderly, murmuring, "And make no mistake, sweetheart... I would like very much for us to continue on..." He would like nothing better, in fact, but the last thing he wanted was to force her; "but more than anything else, I want you to be comfortable with what we're doing. Nothing needs to happen tonight, love, not if you're not ready."
The love and confidence in her eyes took his breath away all over again. "John... I do want this - very much." She shook her head, smiling. "We wouldn't be here if I wasn't ready..." She lifted her hand to run her fingers through his hair again. "Trust me..."
He leaned into her touch, gazing at her adoringly, although his anxiety still remained. "I do, Sally - it's just that... well, it might hurt a little at first if you've never been with a man before..." He was aware that girls of her time were generally a lot more knowledgeable about such things than the young ladies of his era, but even so...
Sally lifted her other hand and put a finger to his lips. "Inexperienced... doesn't equal... ignorant..." She blushed, murmuring, "...and I want you, John."
Watson kissed her fingertip, blushing himself at the hunger in her voice, eyes dark with desire. Rising from the couch, he drew her up into his arms and kissed her passionately, murmuring against her lips with just as much hunger, "Then you shall have me, my darling wife..." He took her hand in his, kissing her fingers softly. "I am entirely yours."
His heart raced as Sally drew him towards the bed, slowly undoing his coat buttons - he had to remind himself that there was no need to rush, they had all night... wait a minute, they were in a time machine...
To Be Continued...
in Episode 10: Dynamics of a Point
A/N from Ria: All right, everyone, let's give those two a little privacy - seriously, though, there's a reason the whole season so far has been rated T. You want the M-rated stuff, you'll have to stick around for the finale... Rest assured, though - we do respect the sensibilities of our readers. For those who aren't into graphic detail, violence or otherwise, the scenes in question (like this last one) will be indicated at the beginning. We've also done our best to make sure that skipping over those scenes won't affect the plotline.
Well, since our newlyweds seem to be busy at the moment, why not join us in the control room for the last TARDISode? In which Holmes and Beth will be having an encounter of their own...
Stay tuned, and please review!
