26. Getting Married
Sherlock was trying to pin the white rosebud to his lapel when the door to the chapel's ante-room opened and his best man walked in. He wore a matching black suit, white shirt, and dark purple tie. He was also wearing a broad grin on his face. "Relax!" he exclaimed as he walked up to his best friend. "Here, I'll get that. Don't want to prick yourself right now, I'm sure."
The groom let out a deep breath and gladly let John pin the damn flower. "Why do I feel so nervous when I know that this is the best and wisest decision of my life? You're married, you know what I'm talking about."
John chuckled. "Yes, I do. I know you remember how I nearly got sick on my wedding morning. I think it's because we know that we are entering into something that you do not want to screw up, like you've never wanted to not screw up anything before."
Sherlock nodded. "That makes sense…" He shook his head after John finished. "Why did she pick me? I don't deserve her…" he said quietly, more to himself than to John.
Thankfully, his best man heard him, and gripped his shoulder. "Yeah, you do."
Sherlock was shocked. "Why?"
"Because she chose you. And I meant it when I said you are the best and wisest man I'll ever know."
Sherlock had never been more grateful for John Watson in that moment, and clapped the doctor's shoulder in return. No words were needed.
A moment later, three more men entered the room. First came Lestrade, wearing a broad and proud grin. "They've just left the hotel, and will be here very soon. Best get out there."
The groom's nerves sped up again, and Lestrade stepped forward and shook his head with both of his. "Good luck, Sherlock. I can think of no better blessing than may your marriage be better than mine in every way."
Sherlock couldn't help but return the grin. Lestrade stepped back and moved aside for Sherlock's father and brother to come forward. Mycroft stood before him, and Sherlock gave him a dangerous warning with his eyes. But Mycroft merely gave the smallest, softest, most sincere smile he could give.
"She is the best thing to ever happen to you, Lockie. I truly wish you both nothing but happiness."
For a moment, Sherlock got a lump in his throat at hearing his childhood nickname and such sincerity he didn't think his big brother was capable of anymore. But he swallowed it down, and they shared a nod that was more than enough.
Then his father stood in front of him with tears in his eyes, and put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders. The man who had never intellectually understood him but always emotionally in a way only a very select few did said softly, "I am so proud of you, my son."
Sherlock didn't even try to fight the hug that followed, and then led the way into the chapel to await the arrival of his bride.
Sherlock took his time as he took off his shoes, his socks, his blazer, and his tie. He then sat on the edge of his bed, unbuttoning his cuffs. The nerves he had felt hours ago were only buzzing at a small fraction of the rate they'd been before, which relieved him. Perhaps because now, after the excitement of the day, it was only him and Molly, at home, about to do what they were meant to do together. He would not let her down. He would be the husband that she deserved. He would make sure that she knew that no other person on this earth was loved as much as her tonight.
Molly was looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror of her hotel room when Mary came in from the one next door. Her matron of honor wore a purple dress that would match the men's ties, and the grin she had on her face was unrestrained. It transformed into a soft "oh" of awe when she saw the bride.
"Oh, Molly…" she said, and without another word ran to Molly to embrace her tightly.
Molly was laughing with tears in her eyes when Mary pulled away. "I still can't believe this is really happening! I feel so jittery and jumpy, like this might all disappear if I make a wrong move."
"Oh, hush with that silly talk," said Mary, taking a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the tears that had fallen to Molly's cheeks. "This is the happiest day of your life, and you mustn't waste a moment with silly talk like that."
Molly nodded and took a deep breath, looking at the woman who had become her dearest friend. "Mary…I can never thank you enough for…well, everything!"
Mary grinned. "You deserve it, Molly, more than anybody in this world."
As they pulled away from their second hug, the hotel room door opened again, and three more ladies came in. First came Mrs. Hudson, with happy tears streaming down her face. She hugged Molly to her, whispering, "I'm so happy you've found each other, my dear."
"Me too, Mrs. Hudson, me too," replied Molly, squeezing her old friend and new landlady. "I'll make sure he leaves no more bullets in your wall."
"Good girl!" Mrs. Hudson stepped aside as Emma hugged her godmother round the legs. "Mah-wee pwetty! Wuv you, Mah-wee!"
"I love you, too, my flower girl," said Molly, stroking the girl's golden curls. "And thank you. You are very pretty, too."
Emma grinned and went to stand by her mother.
Finally, Violet Holmes walked up to her new daughter and cupped her face. Molly got a lump in her throat, seeing the eyes that she had passed down to her son. "My son could receive no greater blessing than you, my dear."
As the woman she could now call her mother held her, Molly knew that she too was truly blessed.
Molly took her time in the bathroom of her new home. There was no rush – they had all the time in the world now, the rest of their lives together. She took off and hung up her simple white dress with care, and removed her heels and other items of clothing before turning to her hair. With a sure and slow hand, she removed each violet flower and brushed out her long, wavy tresses of auburn brown. She was glad that she had worn very little make-up today; she knew how Sherlock felt about make-up. Her heart was pounding slowly and surely. Yes, she knew that she was more than ready to truly become Sherlock's wife.
Five minutes after Sherlock and John had taken their places on the left-hand side of the vicar in front of the altar, the wooden doors to the chapel opened. Mrs. Holmes and Mrs. Hudson walked in with excited smiles and quickly got into the pews. The vicar smiled and nodded to the harpist off to the side, who immediately began playing the beautiful instrument.
Mary and Emma appeared in the doorway, and Sherlock could practically feel John beaming next to him. Gently, Mary nudged Emma forward, and she waddled down the aisle. Though only two years old, she took her role as flower girl very seriously. Though she could walk very fast yet, she walked steadily and scattered the rose petals evenly before her as she walked. When she reached the end of the aisle, she smiled eagerly at her father and godfather, and each gave her beaming smiles that let her know that she had done her job well. Mrs. Hudson then gently pulled her into the aisle to stand beside her.
Then it was Mary's turn to walk down the aisle, at a quick but elegant pace, knowing that the groom was more than ready to see his bride. She held a modest bouquet in her hands, which consisted of lavender and white roses. She smiled and John and winked at Sherlock before taking her place at the right-hand of the minister, leaving room for the bride.
Now the few people in the pews stood up, and the harp's gentle music reached a crescendo. All eyes turned to the open chapel doors, and in the next minute, the bride came into view. She was the image of serenity and beauty as she walked down the aisle, wearing a simple and full-length dress of soft white fabric. The sleeves were long, the neckline was modest, the waist was cinched, and the skirt was flowing. In her hands she held a beautiful bouquet of white roses, English violets, baby's breath and ferns. Her mother's locket hung proudly on her chest. Her long hair flowed down her back in waves, a sprinkling of English violets sewn into the tresses.
Sherlock was sure that his heart stopped just as his breath did when he saw her.
The music ended when Molly reached her destination beside Sherlock, facing him after handing her bouquet to Mary, with a peaceful smile and eyes that glowed with her great love for him.
His nerves were instantly calmed. His Molly was here now and for always.
Sherlock was still sitting on edge of his bed when he heard the bathroom door open. He sat up a little straighter as his – their – bedroom door opened and Molly entered. For the second time that day, both his breath and his heart stopped at the sight of her. She was bare of foot, bare of jewelry, and her hair was down and unadorned. And the only thing she wore was his favorite and finest dressing gown, made of crimson silk. She had done exactly what he had asked her to do yesterday morning while they had laid in bed. He could not count how many times he had dreamed of her like this, and now it was a reality. Softly, she shut the door behind her, and approached him the same way she had approached him in the chapel: with a slow and sure step. His hands reached out, and she stepped between his legs. Overwhelmed that this moment had finally come, Sherlock rested his head on her breast, and held her to him tightly. She held him round the shoulders just as tightly, placing soft kisses on his head.
"I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take thee, Molly Alice Hooper, to be my wedded wife." His voice was sure, strong, and held no hesitation.
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes held each other's hands, and beamed with teary eyes and proud smiles as their younger son became a husband. Not even Mycroft could help but be touched.
"I, Molly Alice Hooper, take thee, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, to be my wedded husband." Her voice was firm, rich, and held no hesitation.
Mrs. Hudson wiped tears from he cheeks for the hundredth time that day, while Emma hugged her piglet doll in happiness. Not even Greg could help but choke up a bit.
The vicar turned to the groom. "Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, give thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"
Sherlock smiled. "I will."
John grinned as his eyes watered, feeling more proud of his best friend than he ever had before.
The vicar turned to the bride. "Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, give thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"
Molly smiled. "I will."
Mary held the bouquets to her chest, a tear falling down her cheek at the sheer sweetness of this wedding of true love.
The vicar nodded in satisfaction. "And now for the rings."
Sherlock never took his eyes from Molly's as he untied the sash of the crimson dressing gown and let it pool around her feet. Only when she gave him a reassuring smile did he let himself take in the sight of his naked bride. His hands ghosted over her, following his gaze, before he turned it back up to her face.
"Beautiful," he breathed, and he meant it. For the first time, she truly believed she was.
Feeling her fingers become restless in his curls, Sherlock smiled and brought her hands to his neck and stood up, so she could undress him now. His heart beat faster with each button and clasp she undid. Finally, after helping her remove his trousers and pants, he stood bare before his bride. She slid her hands over his chest, his ribs, his stomach, his waist, and finally came to rest over his heart beating as hard as a drum.
"Beautiful," she breathed, and she meant it. For the first time, he truly believed he was.
Their lips met, and their restraint disappeared. Their hands explored each other as their kiss deepened with passion. It wasn't long before they were pressed together and let themselves fall back onto their bed.
"With this ring, as a token of my love and devotion, I thee wed."
Sherlock slid the silver band onto Molly's left ring finger, never to come off again.
"With this ring, as a token of my love and devotion, I thee wed."
Molly slid the silver band onto Sherlock's left ring finger, never to come off again.
The vicar smiled at the couple whose happiness was about to be complete. "It therefore gives me great pleasure to declare this union official, and pronounce that you are now husband and wife together."
Sherlock beamed as brightly as the sun; Molly smiled radiantly as she laughed breathlessly; the best man and matron of honor didn't bother to hide their happy tears; no other person in that chapel had a dry eye.
The vicar motioned turned to Sherlock. "You may kiss your bride."
Sherlock didn't need to be asked twice. The couple didn't hear the happy cheers and clapping that immediately followed; they were too busy sharing their first kiss as husband and wife.
They took their time, not wanting to rush or let this be over with too quickly. As the bride and groom touched, explored, discovered and memorized every inch of their partner with their hands and their mouths, the only sounds that filled the air were soft moans, deep growls, hitched breaths, and soft laughter.
When Sherlock entered Molly for the first time, he had to still and gather himself for a moment. Nothing else in his life had ever felt so good, and he knew he was in real danger of letting himself go then and there. He pressed his face to her neck as she stroked his back, willing his body to pace itself, to remember that this wasn't about his pleasure, but hers, no theirs.
Finally, Sherlock lifted his head and looked into his wife's doe-brown eyes, though they were more black since her pupils were so dilated with desire. With those gentle hands she cupped his face and smiled at him, saying exactly what he needed to hear:
"I love you."
He kissed her as sweetly as he could, breathing her new name into her mouth, "Molly Holmes."
"Yes," she confirmed fiercely.
Knowing that she had faith in him, Sherlock felt confident enough to start moving slowly. The sounds she made, the way she gripped his shoulders and back, drove him on, his head constantly lowering to kiss her face, her lips, her neck, her breasts. Their pace picked up, his thrusts became harder, especially when she wrapped both legs around his waist, giving him a better angle.
When he felt himself beginning to lose control, he reached between them and urgently rubbed her little nub. He was determined that this time, his first time, their first time, she would reach her pleasure right as he reached his. "Molly, come for me now!"
"Oh, Sherlock, I'm so close!"
And in the next moment, both climaxed, her with a cry and him with a roar. They rode that wave together, and what a wonderful ride it was. He collapsed atop her, and she held him firmly to her; no way she could let him go just yet. He rested his head on her chest as she stroked his face and kissed his head. In the sweet afterglow, still joined to his wife, he could only say one thing:
"I love you."
A/N: I hope I have satisfied all of you. I wanted to show them getting married both legally and biblically, and I hope that I have succeeded with the mirroring of the day and night. Reviews please, the more the merrier!