Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. A.N. And we jump to monthly prompt 11."Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary." ― Oscar Wilde. Hope you enjoy!

Extraordinary

It's the happiest day of his life. Well, of his life until now. If John knows one thing, it's that you'll never know what insane, perfect, amazing thing might happen tomorrow. But they're getting married, and maybe people think this was an indulgence towards John and his doing things "proper", but they haven't caught Sherlock doodling SW and Sherlock Watson on every scrap of paper at hand.

Everyone's there. Everyone that matters, at least. They've managed to keep the press out, only by calling in a favor from Mycroft. It's a wonder how things that should be publicly announced, by law, can be kept as hushed up as unofficial diplomatic talks. But friends, family, the not asshole or insane portion of colleagues (they weren't about to invite Anderson, ta). Hopefully no criminals as anyone's +1 or something, even though bringing a case would be the best wedding gift anyone could give them. A last bout of adrenaline before they'll be very, very busy for two weeks. If his plans go right, on their honeymoon they won't even even notice if people drop around them like characters in a Christie novel.

It's actually a dry wedding, because of course Harry was going to be there, he couldn't not have her at his side. And he's ready for the teasing about being gay too, after all (he deserves it, and he's not going to split hairs about "actually bi"), ready for her heaping as much embarrassment on him as humanly possible. His sister doesn't need to be drunk to have a sharp tongue.

But then Harry decides to take a stab not at him, but at Sherlock, and – that'd be okay, too, if she'd gone after something else. Or if she wasn't so utterly, stupidly wrong.

Sherlock's wedding vows have been – fine, John isn't ashamed to confess that he's been moved then, is moved now, when they're mentioned, and will be moved if something brings them to mind in 50 years, when they're old and his memory is as spotty as a dalmatian. In the midst of his promises, his beloved has mentioned a quote from a very, very wise man. "Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary."

It's not even a surprise when Harry sneers, "Really though, I wouldn't think you'd need to remind Johnny to flatter you; doesn't he do that enough already?"

Now, Sherlock is usually the very last person who'd have trouble putting anyone in their place, but John knows his husband (it's his husband now!) and hates the flash of doubt that he sees in kaleidoscopic eyes. As if Sherlock could actually have messed up such an important moment.

So he snaps right back, "Harry, please. Nobody's been unwise enough to consider the new mister Watson ordinary in his life. But, unlike the overwhelming majority, he seems to think I'm not ordinary, either. Try to catch up."

Harry gapes for a second, like an especially dumb fish, and Sherlock, pure love in his eyes, says, "The overwhelming majority is idiotic, John. Lucky me."

John has to kiss him, of course. No more words needed.