(Advance Merry Christmas everyone! I'll leave the house tomorrow so I decided to post it this Christmas Eve! Here it is. The Wedding Day! Enjoy loves!)
"How did you know?" Irene asked, looking up at him as she also catch her breath.
Sherlock softly smiled. "I didn't, initially. I actually believed you were... happy with him."
"But?" Irene asked.
"I felt your pulse when we danced, when you returned my kiss at the morgue... Even if you denied, even if you tried to hurt me as I did today, spitting those words at you- are we really that easy to fool?" Sherlock replied. "Then there's my prick brother, which completes the equation."
Irene's eyebrows furrowed. "But I still have to be with Godfrey. To be wed to him, if I must. I don't want you to get involved too much. You can take this case but not to the point that you'll personally be within their radius."
With that Sherlock's expression shifted. "You'll still marry him."
"If it falls to that, yes." Irene replied.
"Then this case must end sooner than it should be." Sherlock breathed. "You know you can't keep me off it. Not now."
Irene rolled her eyes, but she knew deep down that whether she pushed him away or not, Sherlock will never back down especially since Albert personally challenged him.
"This is a mistake." Irene whispered.
"I know... And it will never happen again." Sherlock replied grimly, still his arm around Irene.
"Another goodbye?" Irene asked.
"Something to keep before whatever else happens." Sherlock answered.
/
Sherlock Holmes did not sleep.
He sat motionlessly on his chair the entire night, winding the plan over and over in his mind. His fingers stared fidgeting, the faint rays of the sun flickering in a distance. Twiddling his phone in his hand, Sherlock called Irene.
At the third ring she answered. "Sherlock."
Sherlock almost smiled at the sound of her voice, his heart steadying in pace. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be." Irene replied.
"Seven possibilities-all of which are likely to happen. Human error will make or break this plan." Sherlock said, his eyes fixed faraway.
"Yes. And if you bleed, I'll still go on with it." Irene replied, her voice almost cracking at that.
Sherlock closed his eyes, nodding. "And same with me to you."
Irene sighed from the other end of the line and Sherlock could almost imagine her putting on a brave face. Sherlock listened to the sound of her breathing, dismissing the thought that tis might be the last time he'll hear it.
"Irene... I..." Sherlock started but Irene shushed him.
"We can do this. We are in fact Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler, are we not?" Irene said, a smile to her voice.
/
Arriving at the beautiful gardens of Coombe Abbey, Sherlock surveyed the grounds, John by his side. They saw the arc where the minister would stand and Sherlock's eyes looked out for the bride and groom. He was suddenly aware of the halls filling with chatter, the guests spilling from the halls and the gates, all in glamorous garb.
Sherlock and John took their seats as Godfrey Norton came, his father by his side. Albert eyed Sherlock, a sardonic smile in his face. All took their places and John clapped Sherlock's back for assurance.
The sound of the piano played in and everyone's eyes turned to what is behind them. Irene started walking, her beautiful face behind the sheer veil, her bejewelled white dress shining in the sunlight. Her eyes found Sherlock's, those blazing blue eyes drinking in her image and the pain in them almost visible.
Her eyes trailed from the detective to the aisle, braving on a smile as if nothing dangerous was yet to come. As Irene reached for Godfrey's arm, Sherlock felt a lump rise up his throat. John frowned, his eyes trained on his friend.
As the minister was about to speak, Albert Norton turned to face everyone, a huge smile on his face.
"Everyone. Before we start, I would love to greet everyone who are in attendance of my son's wedding. Unfortunately, I'm afraid the celebration has been used to trick us... Steal from us, if you will. What's sadder is that it's from my son and his fiancée's supposed friends." Albert announced and the room was filled with gasps.
"If everyone could just turn their attention to that gentleman and his companion." Albert pointed, his finger struck on Sherlock. "I guess we are all familiar with that great Sherlock-"
Albert's voice was cut mid-sentence as the sound of a gunshot filled the air.
Gone was the kind look on Godfrey Norton's face, a revolver in his hand. Irene fell to her knees, her hands covering her ears. "He was quite a mouthful, wasn't he?"
Screams echoed and there were people running, frightened looks in their faces. Even the minister fled, but all was drowned as Sherlock and Godfrey's eyes met.
"Sherlock? What's going on?" John asked, his gun at hand, eyes flying from guest to guest who made their way to leave.
"He was never the mind of this plan, wasn't he? It was you all along." Sherlock said, ignoring John's question and his eyes only focused on the younger Norton.
Irene stood, shaking. "What's going on, Godfrey?"
Godfrey smiled wickedly, scratching his chin with his revolver. "Oh don't sound so surprised, Lucia... Or should I say, Ms. Irene Adler?"
"You monster." Irene spat, stepping away from him, but he caught her arm.
Sherlock's eyes blazed, looking at Godrey's grip on Irene and he stepped in closer. "You have been claiming the clients of your father, making him think you were just following him when in fact it was him who was following you."
"Sherlock, what do we do?" John whispered, but Sherlock merely looked at him.
Godfrey smiled, his gun pointing to John. "Sorry. This conversation's best left to us three."
And he took the shot.
"No!" Sherlock gasped, his arms wrapping around John's suddenly limp body. "John? John!"
Irene wrestled with Godfrey's grip but he hit her with the end of her gun, her forehead trickling with blood as she fell, half-conscious.
"Lovely to look at, isn't she?" Godfrey hissed, brushing a loose strand on Irene's pained face.
Sherlock was about to grab John's gun but Godfrey kicked it out of reach. "It's over. I will be the most powerful man in this nation, all bending at my whims for every secret I withhold. The power, the prestige... All thanks to you being distracted by your love for Irene Adler."
The flicker in Sherlock's eyes darkened, his gaze flying from the blood from John and Irene. Godfrey Norton's gun was pointed in between his eyes, Sherlock gave him a dark smile, almost taunting as he spoke.
"If I were the one distracted, then shouldn't you have noticed that this was all an act." said Sherlock Holmes as the sound of a bullet escaping its barrel pierced into the air.