This chapter pretty much sums up my shipping experience now that Mary is finally in the picture. I love Mrs. Watson immensely. (Then again the internet has already supplied us with a threesome name for them so why worry?;D)
Enjoy!
It could have been nearly the happiest day of his life, if it wasn't for the nagging sadness that kept rearing its ugly head.
He put on his coat, an action so familiar that his body carried it out without thought. He turned up the collar against the wind and he could hear his voice teasing him.
"Can we please not do this this time?"
"Do what?"
"You being all mysterious with your - cheekbones. And turning your coat collar up so you look cool."
Sherlock laughed quietly and gave a small wince. He truly did like Mary, in fact he admired her quite a lot. She was the only woman John had ever picked up that showed sense, bravery, and was able to put up with the "irritating demon of a flatmate".
Well, former flatmate.
Most people upon finding out that the man they loved was getting married to a wife you couldn't bring yourself to hate would do the natural thing and get incredibly drunk. However with memories of the unfortunate stag party still bouncing about in his head and with no particular wish to be arrested that night, Sherlock decided against that option.
Instead he hailed a cab and slowly made his way home.
The whole experience brought to mind the bed-time stories that Mycroft used to tell him, a long long time ago before the brothers had grown tired of each other's company. The stories of King Arthur and Guinevere, and Lancelot.
The king and queen in a shining country and the knight loyal to both of them. Too much in love with both of them to find any real pleasure in tearing their relationship apart.
Then there was the matter of the third Watson to be.
Contrary to what most people no doubt believed, Sherlock liked children. In fact he found them preferable to adults, they made sense more often and didn't waste his time with traditions or rules. He wouldn't mind a child in the picture, but with John as an expectant parent how could he have time for crime solving and running about with the best of London's criminal underground?
Just when he'd accepted the idea of John being married off, he realized he'd have even less time with the man than he predicted.
"Sherlock?"
The detective snapped back into reality. He was sitting in his chair with violin in hand, absentmindedly plucking at the strings. Mrs. Hudson was hovering over him, considering she was the kind to stay at a wedding until it's conclusion he deduced that he had been thinking for quite some time.
"What is it?" He sighed, gesturing vaguely with the bow.
"Oh, just brought you some tea, love." She said kindly, placing the tray on the coffee table at the center of the room. "Though it really is late, you should be off to bed."
"There's a long list of things I should be doing." Sherlock replied, giving a small smirk.
"Well don't stay up too late." She chuckled, waving a warning finger. "Don't think that just because you don't have John to take care of you anymore means you can get away with anything!"
Sherlock's smirk shrank as Mrs. Hudson exited the room. He turned automatically to what had until recently been John's chair. He closed his eyes and for a moment allowed himself to picture the army doctor that had been the only love of his life besides that fascinating woman Irene Adler. The wedding vows played out in his head, but this time he was standing there in Mary's place. He opened his eyes, wincing again. It was too confusing wanting something he didn't want, too confusing being the knight that loved both king and queen.
He took up his violin again and let the images of John fade away in his mind. Caring most certainly, was not an advantage. He could not allow himself to love John Watson because of his friendship with Mary. It was time he turned his mind to his real task: to protect their happiness.
That was his vow, the vow he'd made at the wedding. To be there for the three of them no matter what, their knight. That was all he could do.