*Hello lovelies! I managed to get two chapters done in one day, as my work schedule is going to be a bit hectic this week and I probably won't be able to write another until work. I will say that Sherlock's wedding speech is one of my favorite scenes of the series. And I did a lot of looking from transcription to page and back again. I want to really really recommend Ariane DeVere for anyone who is trying to stay close to the storyline. Her transcriptions are a literal godsend. And I did use them very thoroughly. They are absolutely fantastic and I cannot sing her praises loud enough. I hope you all enjoy. The next chapter will be about the evening portion of the wedding, as well as the possibility of smut between Sherlock and Delilah afterwards. Have a wonderful weekend and I will see you lovelies in the next chapter! Enjoy!*


Chapter 11: The Big Day

"Alright! That's enough training for today. Next class will be Thursday at two-thirty. We'll be practicing our kicks, so come loose and limber. We will also spend the last half of the class sparring, so please bring your protective equipment." I watched as my students began to leave and I smiled, going to the front desk. "Well, that was a fun lesson."

"You're a good teacher. You sure you don't want us to pay you for this? I mean, you're in here every week."

I looked at George, giving him a small smile. "If I can teach one of these men or women to protect themselves if they need it, then I will have gotten all the payment I need. I'm going to go and get changed. I'll see you next week?"

"Yeah, sure." I began to head towards the private locker rooms in the back when George called out, "Hey, did you want to grab a pint down at the pub one night? Get to know each other a bit?"

I shook my head, offering him a small smile. "I'm not interested right now. Thank you for the offer though. I'll keep it in mind."

I entered the locker room, quickly changing out of my dobok and into my regular street clothes. I reached for my phone as I heard it buzz against the metal of my locker. I flipped it open, reading the text. My heart began to race and I rushed out of the room.

HELP.

BAKER ST.

NOW.

HELP ME.

PLEASE.

Those words raced through my mind even as I tore out of the building and down the street, shoving my way through the crowds of people. Sherlock was in trouble. What kind I didn't know. I only hoped that it wasn't my sister come back to finish what she had started.

As I arrived at the flat, I saw Greg pulling his car to the curb, running up the steps. I followed after him, my gun drawn. I hadn't gone anywhere since February without it tucked into the holster that John and Mary had gotten for me. Lestrade looked back at me, eyes wide.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are. We both got the same message."

"Put the gun away."

"Fat chance. Come on, he needs help."

We both took off up the stairs and into the flat. Lestrade was ahead of me and I stepped behind him, pointing my gun down the hallway as I looked around, trying to see the danger.

"What's going on?" I heard Lestrade as even as I turned to see Sherlock sitting at the dining room table, fingers pressed to his temples.

"This is hard."

"What?"

I crossed to what Sherlock was looking at on his laptop screen, rolling my eyes before tucking my gun back into its holster.

"Really hard," Sherlock muttered under his breath. "Hardest thing I've ever had to do." He picked up a book from the table, showing it to both Greg and I.

I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "How to Write an Unforgettable Best Man Speech. Are you serious Sherlock? That's what the big emergency was?"

"Have either of you any funny stories about John?"

I could see the disbelief on Greg's face. I could only shake my head, leaving the room. I knew he was worried about the best man speech, but this was a bit extreme, even for him. I could hear the sirens warbling away down Baker Street, tires screeching to a halt outside.

"What?!" I heard Greg shout and I couldn't help it. I began to howl with laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I need anecdotes, Lestrade. Do you have any?" Sherlock seemed to realize that there were sirens outside of the flat and that Lestrade was staring at him as if he had two heads. "Didn't go to any trouble, did you?"

I continued to laugh even as I heard the ambulance and the helicopter approaching. I shook my head, sitting on the couch, watching the chaos unfold. It took nearly an hour for everything to be explained and a very embarrassed Lestrade finally left the flat on the phone, no doubt explaining to his boss as to why nearly every resource that was available had converged on 221b. Sherlock still sat at the kitchen table, staring at the laptop.

I got up from the couch, going to sit next to him at the table, flipping through the pages of the book. "You know you don't need a book to tell you how to write a speech."

"Well then why don't you write it for me since you're so good at it?"

I shook my head. "That's not how it works Sherlock. You have to come up with it yourself. It has to come from the heart." He scoffed. "I know that's not how you normally are, but that's what a best man's speech is all about. Telling stories about the man that come from the heart. Surely you must have some stories about yours and John's time together that you could share that would put John in a good light?"

"This is incredibly difficult. And adding emotions to the mix is not something that I am good at doing."

I patted his hand, going to retreat to my own room to write in my journal for the day. "Well, if you need any help, feel free to come and get me. I'll be in my room. No more texts to Lestrade or I scaring the hell out of us, alright? Next time a simple please help me with such-and-such would suffice."

I began to head to my room when Sherlock said, "What on earth were you planning on doing with that gun?"

I shrugged. "I suppose I would have shot the person that was trying to hurt you."

I went to my room, still chuckling at what had occurred. I would need to send a text message to Lestrade and thank him for coming to Sherlock's rescue and apologize for embarrassing him. I knew Sherlock wasn't going to do it, that much was certain.


I was curled up in Sherlock's bed when I heard the music floating towards me down the hall. I sat up, stretching slowly. I was a bit sore from the workout I'd done yesterday. I was trying to regain some of the strength I'd lost since I'd been on the run. I hadn't realized how out of shape I really was until I'd tried to do ten pull-ups in a row and had been unable to get past seven. I heard the door open and Sherlock began talking to someone, no doubt Mrs. Hudson with the morning tea.

I exited the room, heading down the hallway to find Sherlock in the middle of the living room in his dressing gown, Mrs. Hudson setting the tea down on the table by John's chair. I gave her a sleepy wave even as I sat down on the couch. "Good morning Mrs. Hudson."

"Good morning Delilah dear. Did you sleep well? Did Sherlock's dancing wake you?"

"I was road-testing."

"You what?"

I watched as Sherlock grew impatient, throwing his pen down. "Why are you here?"

"Morning tea Sherlock," I said, giving Mrs. Hudson a small smile. "You're normally not awake when she brings it."

I watched as she poured milk into a teacup. "She's right. You're not usually awake."

Mrs. Hudson handed me my cup and I took it gratefully, taking a sip.

"You bring me tea in the morning?"

I nearly choked on the sip I'd taken and I fought back the urge to laugh. The look on Mrs. Hudson's face was amusing. "Well, where d'you think it came from?"

Sherlock looked confused. "I don't know. I just thought it sort of happened."

I bit back another laugh, ignoring the glare that Sherlock was throwing in my direction. I took another sip, wanting to watch how this was going to unfold.

"Your mother has a lot to answer for," Mrs. Hudson replied even as she handed him his cup and saucer.

"Mm, I know. I have a list. Mycroft has a file."

Mrs. Hudson and I both giggled, the landlady sitting down in John's chair. "So, it's the big day then!"

Sherlock took a sip of tea. "What big day?"

I rolled my eyes. "Really Sherlock? You can't be serious right now."

"The wedding!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed and I was happy to see her face light up. "John and Mary are getting married!"

"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?"

"I mean, if that's what you see marriage as, then you and Delilah should be getting married within the next few months or so," Mrs. Hudson shot back and I got to my feet, not wanting to be part of the conversation anymore as my face flushed.

"Thank you for the tea Mrs. Hudson. I need to be getting ready. You and Sherlock have a lovely chat. I'll see you later on at the wedding."

I hurried out of the room, heading down to the hall to my bedroom. I set my tea cup and saucer on my bedside table before closing and locking the door behind me. I took my outfit out of the closet, looking at it closely. I remembered going shopping for it with Mary. She'd said that I had looked beautiful, but it had been hard to believe.

I looked in the mirror I'd bought the other day, wincing at my reflection. I still wasn't used to the short hair or the haunted look in my eye. The therapist said that that was normal and that I would more than likely find my reflection jarring while I was still readjusting. I sighed. Why couldn't things go back to the way they were?

'Because that's not the way the world works.'

I began to work on my make-up. I'd bought some the other day when I'd bought the small mirror, knowing that I'd need it for the wedding. I tried to replicate the look that Mary had done for Valentine's day with Sherlock and after about thirty minutes, I felt satisfied. I touched my hair, not wanting to deal with it. I knew it had to be done though. I grabbed the hair straightener, plugging it in and turning it on. As I waited for it to heat up, I put my dress on, zipping it up in the back.

It was a simple dress, a knee-length navy blue dress with gold trim and a gold belt. The only thing that made me uncomfortable with it was how low-cut it was. But it had made Mary happy to see me in it and so I'd bought it.

The green light switched on for the straightener and I nearly jumped out of my skin as a knock came at my door. I unlocked it, opening it to find Sherlock standing outside. He stared down at me and I found myself unable to read his expression.

"Was I interrupting?"

"Would you care if you were?" I asked, going back to my small table, standing in front of the mirror. "What do you want Sherlock?"

"I wanted to speak with you before the wedding. Are you going to be alright being separated from me?"

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a lock of my hair and straightening it. "Sherlock, I'm a grown woman, not a child. I'll be fine. I'm still in sight of you, Mary, and John. Stop worrying."

"I'm not worrying. I only wanted to make certain that you weren't going to go into hysterics being separated."

"I've been separated from you before when I go down to the school or the clinic."

"There's going to be a lot of people here though. If you need anything-"

"Sherlock. Go and get ready. Practice your speech while you do. I'll see you when we're ready to leave."

Sherlock swept out of the room and I heard him say, "Into battle."

I finished my hair, sliding a gold flower hair band into my hair. I finger combed the front, sweeping it across my forehead. I looked at myself in the mirror, frowning. I wasn't satisfied with how I looked, but I knew that it was the best that I could do. Besides, it was Mary's special day, not mine.

My phone vibrated on the table and I picked it up, opening it to find a picture of Mary in her gown.

How do I look? –MM

Beautiful, as usual. Are you nervous? –DM

Of course. Send me a picture! I want to see what you look like! –MM

But you'll see me soon enough! :) –DM

Come on. One picture. Oh, I wish you'd accepted my invitation to be in my wedding party. I would have loved for you to be one of my bridesmaid's. You could have been partnered with Sherlock even. –MM

I'm fine without being in the wedding party. Besides, lilac doesn't fit my complexion. Here. I'll send you a photo. One second. –DM

I snapped a photo, quickly sending it to Mary. I waited what seemed like an eternity for a reply.

Oh my goodness! You look beautiful! I'm forwarding this to John so he can see! I must say, I really like you with short hair. It definitely enhances your features, especially those cheekbones. –MM

Thank you Mary. It means a lot coming from you. We'll see you shortly, alright? Don't be nervous. You're marrying a good man. I'm so happy for the both of you. –DM

Thank you! I can't wait to see you. Promise me that you'll at least have one dance with me? –MM

Haha of course. That's if I can get John's hands off of you. I'll talk to you soon. –DM

Talk to you soon! Love you Del! –MM

I closed the phone, grabbing the purse off of the door handle. I tucked my phone inside, making sure that my pistol was also in there. I slipped into the low gold heels before stepping out into the hallway. I looked to Sherlock's room, catching a glimpse of him bare-chested out of the corner of my eye. I blushed, walking down the hallway to sit on the couch.

Sherlock finally finished getting dressed and I rose, giving him a small smile. "You look positively dashing."

"This is uncomfortable. I can't believe I have to carry around this ridiculous hat."

"Might I remind you that you're the one who decided on all of this?"

"Was I? What on earth was I thinking?"

"That you wanted your best friend to be happy and to have a good time at his wedding," I replied, going to straighten his tie. "Things are going to be fine. It's going to be a wonderful time and then everything will go back to normal. We can even work on the case of the ghost man once we're finished."

"We?"

"Aye. I was thinking…Sherlock, I want to start running cases with you."

"You? Why?"

I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. "Marriages change thing Sherlock. There will be times when John can't go on a case with you. I was hoping that maybe you and I could work the ones that John doesn't go with you on. We worked the one with my sister pretty well."

"If by pretty well you mean you were abducted and tortured for seven days, then yes, it went pretty well."

I was hurt by his words and I stepped away from him. "I see…well then, let's get going, shall we? They're not going to stop an entire wedding waiting on us."

We left the flat and I refused to speak to him the entire trip. What could I possible have to say to someone that would throw my past into my face so quickly?

The wedding was beautiful and I cried when Mary and John said their I do's. I was so happy for them even as I sat towards the back of the church. I could catch Sherlock glancing at me, but I ignored him, focusing instead on the ceremony. They all went outside for pictures and I stood to the side, trying to avoid most of the people. A hand grabbed my arm and I nearly jumped.

"Come on Del! Come take a few pictures with me!" Mary dragged me to stand in front of the camera with her. I forced a few smiles before she pulled me away, looking me up and down.

"It looks much better in person, that's for sure! And you put on make-up! I'm so proud of you."

"Shouldn't I be the one complimenting you?" I asked with a laugh. "You look absolutely stunning. John is a lucky man."

"What's this about me?" I heard John ask behind me and I turned, giving him a smile.

"Ah, Doctor Watson, just the man I wanted to congratulate." I gave him a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I was telling Mary what a lucky man you were. You'd best take good care of her John."

John laughed, a smile on his face. "Did you enjoy the ceremony?"

"Very much so. You looked very handsome up there and Mary looked beautiful. You two are going to have a very wonderful marriage, I can tell." I looked up to see Sherlock snapping a few photos with the chief bridesmaid. "How do you think Sherlock is doing?"

"Why don't you ask him?" John questioned. "Or are you two not speaking?"

I gave John a small smile. "I've been busy training and at the practice. Well, you two know. You've seen me practically every day."

Mary looked at me quizzically. "John, could we have a moment? Please?"

"Of course. I'll go and bring the car around so that we can go to the reception. Don't want to keep everyone waiting."

Mary pulled me to the side even as I caught a snippet of what the chief bridesmaid was saying to Sherlock. Something about sex. I felt my face blush and I had to resist the urge to turn and say something to her. Instead I turned to look at Mary, who had a look of concern in her eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. A bit overwhelmed is all. This is the first big event since February that I've been to. I'm fine."

"Something's wrong. Don't lie to me. I can tell. What did he say?"

"It was nothing. We're fine. Besides, I think he has taken a liking to your chief bridesmaid. What was her name again?"

"Janine. She's a bit…overzealous with men. I wish you'd taken her spot honestly, with all the work that you and Sherlock put into planning this wedding."

"Oh, I barely did anything. Sherlock did most of it."

"You helped keep him on track with it and not get sucked into his own little world. That's more than most people." I heard a car horn honk in the distance. "That's John with the car. Don't forget, you promised me a dance later!"

"I won't!" I called back before heading to grab one of the many taxis that were waiting to take everyone to the reception. As I was pulling off, I watched as Janine grabbed Sherlock's hand. I definitely wanted to say something to her now.

Instead I bit my tongue, keeping a tight grip on my purse even as I rode over to the reception venue.


I once again said my congratulations to Mary and John as they stood outside, finding Sherlock standing close behind them. I stepped next to him even as the other guests came. "Why are you hovering?"

"I'm making certain that no one that is here makes a fool of themselves."

"You're intimidating them."

"So?"

I sighed. "Where's your date?"

"Who?"

"Your date. Janine? The woman you were holding hands with earlier?"

"Probably inside, no doubting trying to flirt with anything that has a pulse. Why are you so interested?"

"Well I'd like to know who you're bringing back to the flat once this wedding is over with. Don't want to step out of the room and catch her naked in the bathroom or something."

I saw the color appearing on Sherlock's cheeks, but he said nothing, focused on a gentleman in an obnoxiously purple tie. I leaned towards Sherlock, muttering, "Wasn't that the gentleman that you thought still had feelings for Mary?"

He nodded curtly, eyes never leaving the man. I'd been home for that meeting, curled up in my bed even as I heard Sherlock interview him. I'd been reading a book when I'd heard the man call Sherlock a psychopath. I'd silently laughed when Sherlock had corrected him and the man had left shortly after that. I'd told him that perhaps that was a bit overboard, but he hadn't wanted to hear it, mumbling something about making certain that John and Mary were happy.

After the man left, giving both Sherlock and I nasty glances, a young boy bounced up behind a woman in a black and white dress, throwing himself at Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his waist. I smiled, recognizing the child from the flat. I'd been teaching a class at the school and had come home to find Sherlock at his desk, showing him pictures of cases. While I hadn't approved, the boy hadn't seemed traumatized. In fact, he'd seemed enthused and Sherlock had appeared to be content with having the boy around.

"Well, um, well done in the service Archie."

The mother said something and I decided that that would perhaps be the best time to make my exit. I could feel Sherlock's eyes on me even as I walked away. I joined Lestrade at our table, chatting with him a bit. I was distracted, I would admit it. There were many things swirling around in my mind and most of them had to do with one Sherlock Holmes.

I kept glancing up at Sherlock, who had that damnable Janine woman hovering around him. I must have made a face because Lestrade chuckled.

"What's so funny? Did I miss a joke?"

Greg shook his head. "I never thought I'd live to see the day where a woman would be jealous over Sherlock Holmes. So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"What?" I felt my brow knit with confusion. "He and I aren't dating,"

"The way you look at him, yes you are. It doesn't take the world's most brilliant consulting detective to figure that out. So when's your wedding? Hmmm?"

I must've had a horrified look on my face because Greg let out a raucous laugh. "Come on now, you can't be serious. You two live together and I've seen the way he looks at you. When you were missing, he worked day and night to find you. Hell, I've never seen him so fired up, except that one time with Mrs. Hudson."

I looked at him questioningly. "What happened with Mrs. Hudson?"

"Someone broke into the flat and held Mrs. Hudson hostage." I looked over at the older woman chatting with the gentleman from the sub shop next door. "I got a call from Sherlock saying that someone had broken into the flat and the burglar had fallen out of the window. When we got there, the man, he was in very bad shape. To be honest with you, the paramedics didn't think he was going to make it." Greg took a swig from his glass. "Oh, it looks as if John's friend showed up. Good for him. From what I heard, he's a bit of a hermit."

I rose from the table. "I'm going to go and speak with Mary for a moment. I'll be back of course."

"I'll be here, enjoying my drink. No rush. Wasn't really having a conversation with you or anything."

I walked away, tightening my grip on my purse. I stepped next to Sherlock, taking his arm. "Is there somewhere that we can go? Somewhere private to talk?"

"Oh! Major Sholto! This is Sherlock's new flat mate and Mary's newest friend, Delilah McKinley."

I quickly changed gears, offering my hand to the man. "How are you doing today? It's a delight to meet you. John has told Mary and I so much about you."

"I'm doing fine. Glad I could make it." He didn't sound it and I could tell that the man was nervous. "Perhaps we'll chat in a bit after supper?"

"Of course," I said softly, offering the man a gentle smile. "I believe I would enjoy that. A nice chat with a friend of John's."

I turned back to Mary and Sherlock, watching as Mary made a face taking a sip of wine. "What's the matter? Don't like the taste?"

"Oh, I thought I did. It's the wine I picked out. Do you suppose that they grabbed the wrong bottle?"

"Highly doubtful. Anyway, Sherlock, now that Janine has disappeared, do you think we could go and talk for a moment?"

"Certainly." Sherlock turned to Mary. "Stop smiling."

"It's my wedding day!" She said indignantly even as we began to walk away.

We entered a side hallway and I pulled away from him, crossing my arms across my chest. "We need to talk."

"What about?"

"About us. And about our living situation. And about going on cases together."

"Do we have to do this now? Can't it wait until after the wedding?"

"No, it can't. If I have to see that woman on your arm one more time fawning over you I'm going to-" I paused, seeing the smirk on Sherlock's face. "What on earth is so funny?"

"You are. Jealousy doesn't suite you dear. Neither does rage. Although it's good to see a bit of fire back in you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You, Delilah. Me being around Janine has brought the fire back in you, if only because your hormones are raging and you're jealous about the fact that she's around me when you're not. Believe me when I say, I am not interested."

"But…I overheard you two talking about sex after the ceremony."

"I believe she was trying to make a joke. It was a poor attempt."

"I saw you holding hands!"

"Yes and as I said, I am not interested. In fact, it makes me fairly uncomfortable to hold her hand, especially when you are present at this ceremony." Sherlock offered me his hand. "Will you please believe me when I say that you are the only person that I am interested in going back to the flat with?"

Slowly, I took his hand and he pulled me close to him. I looked into his eyes, seeing those brilliant galaxies swirling around in them for the first time since February. I gave him a small smile, realizing that I wasn't trying to run away screaming. He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"Well?"

"Well what?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "You know, to kiss you."

I let out an irritated sigh, letting my arms drop to my side even as I pulled away. "You can't be serious right now. I have to ask you to- are you joking with me? Oh good Lord, I can't-"

Sherlock grabbed my hand, pulling me tight against him, kissing me soundly. I felt a twinge of panic in my heart, but the feeling of Sherlock's lips against mine, being safely tucked in his arms, it made me feel calm. He pulled away and began to walk away, leaving me to stand there, dazed and confused by our kiss.

I returned to the table with Lestrade, sitting down next to him once more. He looked up at me, a knowing smile on his face. Dinner went by smoothly and I did my best to keep myself in the conversation, speaking with Molly and her fiancé, as well as Lestrade. As we finished the final course, I heard the clear sound of someone tapping crystal with a fork.

"Pray silence for the best man."

I watched as Sherlock rose to his feet and I felt bad for him. He looked terribly nervous. I hadn't realized how much this speech had been bothering him. I should have known. He wasn't good at making speeches. Our night together had no doubt been helped by alcohol, but Sherlock hadn't touched a single drop at the reception.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends…and…erm…others." He looked around nervously and I could tell that John and Mary were worried. "Er…w…"

I caught his eye, giving him a gentle nod, wishing that I could comfort him. I looked at Lestrade, who glanced at me, and I could tell that even he was worried. "Is he alright?"

"I think he's a bit frozen," Greg whispered back.

"First things first. Telegrams." I watched as Sherlock picked them up, showing them to all the guests. "Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don't know why. Wedding tradition."

I giggled softly to myself. I could tell that Sherlock hated standing up there, reading aloud. He looked so uncomfortable. I kept catching his eye as he read and he seemed a bit calmer each time afterwards. I did my best to offer him gentle smiles.

"To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big…" he paused and I could hear the disdain in his voice as he read the next lines, "big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted."

I had to hold back my laughter even as Sherlock continued. Finally he ran out of telegrams and I realized that the entire room seemed to know what was coming next. It was as if every guest was holding their breath. Even Mary and John looked on edge. I raised my hand discreetly as I caught Sherlock's eye. I quickly signed, Y-O-U-R-E G-R-E-A-T. He gave me a small smile.

"John Watson. My friend, John Watson." He looked down for a moment before looking at John. "John." I saw John smile at him and Sherlock turned to look at the audience again. "When John first broached the subject of being best man, I was confused. I confess at first I didn't realize he was asking me. When finally I understood, I expressed to him that I was both flattered and surprised. I explained to him that I'd never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it."

"I'll say," I muttered under my breath, remembering the day that I'd received a text message saying that he was in trouble.

"I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was, for me, as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated. Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he'd placed in me and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being…moved by it." I could tell by the look on John's face that he couldn't remember the conversation at all. "It later transpired that I had said none of this out loud." I giggled, covering my mouth with my hand, seeing Lestrade holding back laughter out of the corner of my eye. I watched as Sherlock reached into his pocket, clearing his throat again as he flipped through cue cards. He finally looked up, catching my eye before turning to John.

"I'm afraid, John, I can't congratulate you." My eyes widened with surprise and I saw that Mary had the same look on her face.

'Please Sherlock. Please dear God don't make an ass out of yourself. Not now,' I thought to myself, my gaze flicking to the ceiling with my silent prayer.

"All emotions, and in particular, love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things." Our eyes met for the briefest of moments and I saw them soften a bit. "A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world." I held back a groan, shaking my head slightly. "Today, we honor the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and in time, one feels certain, our entire species." I could see the look of horror on Molly and Lestrade's faces, as well as some of those in the crowd. "But anyway, let's talk about John."

"If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice, it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me. Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides." I could only watch on in horror, unable to stop Sherlock from speaking. "It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favor exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel." I had to hold back a giggle as Janine looked up at him when he said those words. "Contrast is, after all, God's own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation. Or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot."

I covered my mouth with my hand and I saw that Mary had placed her face in the palm of her hand and John was trying to hide behind his. Guests began muttering to themselves and I looked to Molly, whose look of horror was only growing with every word that Sherlock spoke.

"The point I'm trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant, and all-round obnoxious asshole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. I am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful," his eyes fell on me and I blushed. "And uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn't understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody's best friend. Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing."

I smiled. I could see where Sherlock was going with his speech and I was proud of him. He'd found his heart and had found his speech in that small box of empathy and feelings he kept locked away.

"John, I am a ridiculous man, redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I'm apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion." I felt myself bristling, preparing my lecture to Sherlock in my head. "Actually, now I can. Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war and injury and tragic loss," he leaned down, muttering something to John before straightening up. "So know this. Today, you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved. In short, the two people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for May as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that."

I felt the tears touch my eyes, slipping down my face. He had done it. He had actually done it. I couldn't be more proud of him, putting his thoughts and feelings out there for everyone to see. I looked around to see that there were many other guests crying and I dabbed at my eyes with a napkin, getting up from the table, making my exit. I needed a bit of air and a chance to refresh myself. I could feel Sherlock's eyes on me as I slipped out of the room.

I returned when he was telling the story of the Bloody Guardsman, slipping into my seat beside Greg once more. I'd heard the story twice, once from John's perspective and once from Sherlock's. I'd also read it on John's blog more than a few times. The case had intrigued me. And when I'd gone shooting, it was all that Lestrade and the other detectives could talk about. How could someone get into the shower and stab the poor man without a trace?

I also remembered coming home from class and finding dozens of little napkins all around the flat. It had been most irritating to pick them all up from the floors and counter tops. I'd spent most of the afternoon and evening picking them up before going to bed.

"Come on, come on, there is an element of Q and A to all of this," I heard Sherlock say, snapping me out of my memories. "Scotland Yard. Have you got a theory?"

I watched as Greg raised his head, staring at Sherlock blankly. I knew nothing good was going to come of this even as Greg began to stammer out an explanation. I could only stifle a giggle. I watched as Molly's fiancé stood up, offering up some theory of a meat dagger. I couldn't help but laugh at that one and Sherlock shot me a glance.

"Have you got any ideas then Delilah?"

I felt all eyes turn slowly to me and I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. I slowly got to my feet, staring at the crowd. "I…erm, well, when I read the blog entry, I thought perhaps someone had planted something in the shower, knowing when he would come off shift. B-but…that would be a bit impossible wouldn't it? I mean, how is an attempted murderer going to know that it's going to be their target that steps into a shower and not someone else. I will say that I believe somehow, someone planted a weapon somewhere near the gentleman, knowing his habits and his schedule." I sat back down, but I noted that there was a look of approval in Sherlock's eye.

"Close, but no. There was one feature and only one feature of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual. John Watson, who while I was trying to solve the murder, instead saved a life. There are mysteries worth solving and stories worth telling." Sherlock looked down at John. "The best and bravest man I know and on top of that he actually knows how to do stuff. Except wedding planning and serviettes, he's rubbish at those."

I chuckled, knowing it to be true. Trying to get John to help plan the wedding was like trying to pull teeth.

"The case itself remains the most ingenious and brilliantly planned murder, or attempted murder, I've ever had the pleasure to encounter; the most perfect locked room mystery of which I am aware. However, I'm not just here to praise John. I'm also here to embarrass him, so let's move on to some-"

Greg sat up, calling out, "No, no wait, so how was it…how was it done?"

"How was what done?" Sherlock asked, sounding exasperated.

"The stabbing."

Sherlock paused and I could tell he looked uncomfortable. "I'm afraid I don't know. I didn't solve that one. That's…it can happen sometimes. It's very…very disappointing." He paused again and I could see that he was far away from the reception. "Embarrassment leads me on to the stag night. Of course there's hours of material here, but I've cut it down to the really good bits."

Oh, I remembered their stag night. I also remembered getting a call from Lestrade early in the morning saying that John and Sherlock had ended up in the lock-up overnight. I'd taken a cab down to go and pick them up with Greg. I'd lectured the both of them about their stupidity, not caring that their heads hurt. They'd acted like fools and I'd had no sympathy for either John or Sherlock that day.

I was snapped back to reality once more by Sherlock's voice. "A word to the wise. Should any of you require the services of either of us, I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life. Trust me on that, I should know. He has saved mine so many times and in so many way." Sherlock held up the phone to the crowd. "This blog is the story of two men and their frankly ridiculous adventures of murder, mystery, and mayhem. But from now on, there's a new story, a bigger adventure." I looked up to see Mary and John smiling at Sherlock.

"Ladies and gentlemen, pray charge your glasses and be upstanding." I got to my feet, as did the rest of the crowd, raising my glass to the lovely couple. "Today begins the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson. The two reasons why every single one of us is-"

I watched as a look of realization crossed Sherlock's face. I immediately set my glass down. I knew that look. I recognized it from the night that we'd figured out that my sister was going to bomb Tower Bridge. I began to move towards the head table, knowing that something was about to happen even as the glass tumbled from his fingers.

I grabbed an extra chair from against the wall as I was moving and sat it down directly next to Mary. She looked at me with wide eyes. "Delilah, what are you doing?"

"Don't ask. Something's wrong. Act normal."

Her face went pale even as Sherlock said, "And down again."

The guests all looked around the room, murmuring amongst themselves. I looked to Sherlock, noting that he was looking at every male in the room. What was he thinking?

"Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech, get off early, leave them laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind. But for now," Sherlock vaulted himself over the table to the gasps of the crowd. Mary grabbed for my hand. "Part two. Part two is more action-based. I'm going to…walk around, shake things up a bit. Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding?" I watched as he was two-thirds of the way through the room before he turned. "Well, everyone. Weddings are great! Love a wedding."

"What's he doing?" Mary asked John.

"Something's wrong," John muttered back, his eyes never leaving Sherlock.

"Something is very wrong," I said, slipping out of my shoes and grabbing the gun out of my purse, keeping it hidden under the table so as not to startle the other guests and Mary.

"And John's great too! Haven't said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his…jumpers…and he can cook. Does a…thing with stir fry, very delicious. Delilah and I had it once." Sherlock paused and I could see him gritting his teeth, even at that distance. "Sorry. Too many jokes about John! Now, er…"

"Come on Sherlock, what are you thinking? What are you doing? You have to fill us in," I muttered under my breath. A picture was beginning to form in my mind. The Mayfly Man. Something had triggered Sherlock to think about him and that case. But what?

It dawned on me. Sherlock thought that the Mayfly Man was there at that very moment. But why? Why would he be there? My mind was racing even as I looked out over the crowd. My eyes rested on Major Sholto. I knew in that instant even as I tucked my gun into my purse that the Major was in danger. It all made sense. Someone wanted him dead. Why not the Mayfly Man? But how? And for what reason?

"Sorry, did I say murder?" I heard Sherlock say. "I meant to say marriage, but, you know, they're quite similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other and it's over when one of them is dead." I noted the emphasis that Sherlock put on the letter d and I knew that he was trying to get his point across. "In fairness, murder is a lot quicker though. Janine!"

I watched as the woman who had been sitting next to Sherlock looked up, wide-eyed. "What about this one? Acceptably hot? More importantly, his girlfriend's wearing brand-new uncomfortable underwear and hasn't bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he's going home alone."

I watched as he typed away on his phone as he spoke and I quickly grabbed mine, waiting for the message. Sherlock looked to Greg. "Geoff, the gents." When Greg made no move to go, Sherlock said, "The loos, now, please."

"It's Greg," I heard Lestrade say through gritted teeth.

My phone vibrated and I looked at the message that had appeared.

Lock this place down.

This was followed quickly by another text. Gun ready. Mayfly on the wall.

"Sherlock, any chance of an end date for this speech? We've got to cut the cake."

Sherlock practically danced down the aisle, a wide smile on his face. I pulled my gun out of my purse once more, knowing that we'd need all the help we could get. "Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, can't stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for once, Vatican Cameos."

I knew that phrase. We'd been discussing it one day, how it was used as a code word in the army and how John had only had to use it a handful of times. I watched as he straightened up in his chair. Mary looked confused.

"What did he say? What's that mean?"

"Battle stations. Someone's going to die," John whispered and I felt my grip on my pistol tighten.

Someone was going to die. I knew who it was. Sherlock didn't yet, but I did. I could see it plain as day. Who was the most hated man in the room beside Sherlock? Who had had multiple death threats, who had only come because John was getting married?

"You," I heard Sherlock say softly, pointing at John, approaching the high table. "It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right."

"What do I do?" John asked.

"Well, you've already done it. Don't solve the murder. Save the life. Sorry. Off-piste a bit. Back now. Phew!" I watched as he clapped his hands together, a crazed smile on his face. I hadn't seen this side of Sherlock before and I didn't know if it frightened me or excited me. "Let's play a game. Let's play Murder."

"Sherlock," I heard Mrs. Hudson say disapprovingly.

"Imagine someone's going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?"

"I think you're a popular choice at the moment dear."

"If someone could move Mrs. Hudson's glass just slightly out of reach, that would be lovely. More importantly, who could you only kill at a wedding? Most people you can kill any old place. As a mental exercise, I've often planned the murder of friends and colleagues." I felt my eyes widen at his words. "Now John I'd poison. Sloppy eater, dead easy. I've given him chemicals and compounds that way. He has never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn't have a clue." He paused, turning to look at me for a second. "Delilah I would strangle. When you're intimate with someone and they trust you, it's easy to wrap a scarf around their neck and choke them. Especially if they're into the riskier side of things in the bedroom. She wouldn't even know it was happening until it was too late." I felt my cheeks burning at his words.

I realized what he was doing. I tried to think to him who to look at, but I knew that Sherlock was too far gone in his own thought process to realize that the answer was right in front of him. That was the problem with Sherlock. Once you got him on one train of thought, it was hard to de-rail him until he reached his own conclusion, even if you had seen the end of it before he had.

I watched in amazement as Sherlock finally reached the conclusion on his own and Major Sholto slowly turned in his chair to look up at him. I was poised to move, my hand gripping my pistol tight, my body ready to spring. The blood was pounding in my ears and the entire world seemed to slow down as the adrenaline took hold.

Major Sholto rose from his table and I rose as well, watching as he grabbed his ceremonial sword. I texted Sherlock quickly.

It's about time. I figured it out before you did. I'm tailing him now. You keep distracting the crowd.

I slipped away, following the man as he left the room. I walked barefoot, pistol out and at the ready. He turned once we were out of the room and looked at me with wide eyes. "Get away from me!"

"Stop. I am Sherlock's friend and I am not going to harm you. I've come to protect you."

"You've got a gun and someone in that room wanted to kill me. How do I know it's not you?"

"Because if it was me, you'd be dead already," I answered. "I know what it's like to be afraid for your life. But I need you to trust that Sherlock will solve this mystery and that we will protect you."

"Leave me be. I'm tired of this." The Major took off for his room and I followed after him.

Unfortunately, the Major was too quick and he slipped into his room, locking me out. I stood outside, pounding on the door. "Come on Major, listen to me. It's going to be fine."

"How do you know? I've had these people after me for months. I don't want to do this anymore."

I sat down against the wall. "I've been where you are. Believe me when I say I have. Have you thought of therapy? It's actually a wonderful invention."

"Oh shut up. I don't need some doctor telling me that I'm crazy."

I watched as John, Mary, and Sherlock came running down the hall towards me. Sherlock stepped over me, hand slamming against the door. "Major Sholto? Major Sholto!"

"If someone is about to make an attempt on my life, it won't be the first time. I'm ready."

"Major, let us in," John said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Kick the door down," Mary and I said simultaneously.

"I really wouldn't," the Major said calmly. "I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes."

"You're not safe in there. Whoever's after you, we know that a locked room doesn't stop him," Sherlock said through the door.

"The invisible man," I whispered in horror.

"The invisible man with the invisible knife," Sholto concluded.

"I don't know how he does it, so I can't stop him. That means he'll do it again."

"Solve it then," I heard Sholto snap from the other side.

Sherlock looked taken aback as I stared up at him apprehensively. "I- I'm sorry?"

"You're the famous Mr. Holmes," he said through the door. "Solve the case. On you go. Tell me how he did it and I'll open the door."

"Please," John pleaded, stepping forward again. "This is not time for games. Just let us in! You're in danger!"

"So are you, so long as you're here," Sholto stated firmly. Mary and I watched as Sherlock paced back and forth. "Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don't approve of collateral damage."

Mary turned to Sherlock. "Solve it."

He stopped, looking at Mary. "Sorry?"

I grabbed his arm. "Sherlock, solve it and he'll open the door, like he said. You have to solve it."

"If I couldn't solve it before, how can I solve it now?"

"Because it matters now!" Mary sounded impatient and worried.

"What are you talking about? What's she talking about? Get your wife under control."

"She's right," John said, wrapping an arm around Mary's waist.

"Oh, you've changed!"

"No she is," John insisted before pointing at Sherlock. "Shut up. You are not a puzzle solver, you never have been. You're a drama queen. Now, there is a man in there about to die. 'The game is on.' Solve it!"

I turned my attention back to the door, knowing that there was going to be a fight and I didn't want to be caught in the middle. "Major Sholto, can you still hear me?"

"You're the girl that was following me, correct?"

"Yes, that's me."

"What would you do in my situation then?"

I paused, resting my hand against the wood. "Come closer to the door. I'm not going to try to break it down. I don't have the strength to do that." I heard the man walk towards the door. "Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"I would trust Sherlock Holmes. He's one of the best men I've ever met, besides John and my father. And he'll help you."

"The man is insane."

I shook my head, smiling. "He may seem like it. But he's passionate. And he doesn't know how to express that passion in any other way than his crazy antics. Please Major Sholto, I know you don't trust any of us, but I need you to trust those soldier instincts. I need you to believe that we can help you."

Sherlock moved me gently to the side. "Major Sholto, no one is coming to kill you. I'm afraid you've already been killed several hours ago."

"What did you say?"

I looked up at Sherlock in horror. "What?"

"Don't take off your belt."

"My belt?"

"Just do as he says Major," I said through the door.

Sherlock began explaining his theory to Mary and John that a blade had been put in the belt and keeping the belt on was the only reason that the Major was alive. That's why a weapon had never been found at the first crime scene. I saw the realization dawning on both of their faces.

"Major Sholto?" Sherlock asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

A sense of dread began to creep up my back. "It's hard to kill yourself when there's no bullets in the gun. But when you know there are…oh God. Sherlock…" Sherlock glanced down at me. "He's tired. He doesn't want to do this anymore."

"So, I was to be killed in my uniform. How appropriate."

"He solved the case, Major. You're supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal," Mary said, forcing her way between Sherlock and I. I could hear the worry in her tone.

"I'm not even supposed to have this anymore," I heard the Major say to himself in the room. "They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn't imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose, given the circumstances, I don't have to. When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue."

John pushed between Sherlock and Mary now. "Whatever you're doing in there, James, stop it right now. I will kick this door down."

"I'll help him!" I said, stepping back with John.

"Mr. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think."

"Yes, I think we are," Sherlock replied softly.

"There's a proper time to die, isn't there?"

"Of course there is."

"And one should embrace it when it comes, like a soldier."

"No!" I gasped in horror. "No, you can't!"

"Of course one should, but not at John's wedding," Sherlock said quickly. "We wouldn't do that, would we, you and me? We would never do that to John Watson."

We all listened with baited breath and I watched as John shrugged out of his jacket. "I'm going to break it down."

"I'm going to help you," I said, taking a few steps back from the door.

"No, wait, you don't have to."

"Hmmm?"

We all watched as the door swung open. Sholto glanced briefly at Sherlock and myself before lowering his eyes. He finally looked up at John. "I believe I am in need of medical attention."

"I believe I am your doctor."

We all entered the room and I let out a sigh of relief. That was one crisis averted. Unfortunately, there was still a whole evening of wedding left. I could only hope that the rest of the wedding was going to be less eventful.