CHAPTER 15.
I somehow find it really hard to write Mummy Holmes in character... So all errors are completely and only my own fault, and please forgive me?
Also, just a friendly reminder here, that in my fic HLV never happened.
Days come and go, silent witnesses to their shared happiness. Two weeks pass in the blink of an eye, with new case to solve, with Hamish to take care of and with all this excitement distinctive to first days of blooming relationship; and suddenly it's Christmas, with snow falling slowly from the white sky.
There's christmas tree taking almost whole space of their main room now, shining and sparkling, and lights all over fireplace; and John looks at them, smiling, as he sits in his chair and drinks his morning tea. Sherlock is all lost in his new experiment, kitchen table terrible mess and smell of burning heavy in the air although open window, and John is actually pretty cold now – it proceeds for almost two hours – but, since he starts to feel christmas spirit and all, he decides not to say anything. Hamish is sitting on the floor, under the christmas tree, fascinated by bubbles, looking at his deformed reflection in them, and giggling. John realizes all of sudden that seemingly his son inherited his ridiculous giggle, and the very thought makes him laugh silently. He's so happy.
They sit in accompanied silence, when suddenly there's a sharp knock to the door and they open with great force, and Sherlock's mother comes in. John, of course, remembers her, but was never actually introduced so he finds whole situation rather awkward, and rises hastily from his chair. At he same time Sherlock leaves his experiment and stands rather abruptly, frowning.
"What are you doing here?" He asks bluntly.
His mother rushes to him, and kisses him on the cheek, paying no attention to her son horrified expression.
"Mycroft told us happy news, so, obvioulsy, I had to come and visit you!" She exclaimes. "Also, it's Christmas." She smiles, and in her smile John suddenly sees the echo of her son's lopsided smile.
Sherlock rolls his eyes and sighs like he was deeply suffering, but comes to John and takes his hand, lacing their fingers.
"Mummy, this is John Watson. And his son, Hamish."
"Er, hello." John tries really hard not to sound awkward, but really, the whole situation is raher bizzare, so he just smiles politely. He knows that Sherlock is probably ten times more horrified than he is and feel sudden pang of compassion.
"I knew it, I just knew it, that one day you'll finally settle down with someone!" Says Mummy Holmes – and well, John finds it rather ridiculous to refer to Sherlock's mother like this, but since both him and Mycroft do so, he jus gives up. "It's so nice to meet you, John!"
"Nice to meet you too." John smiles. "I'm happy to be finally introduced to you properly."
"Ah, and I'm so happy that you put up with my insufferable son." She smiles too, and John realizes that probably it won't be that hard to get along with his – hopefully - future mother-in-law.
"Everyone's happy, great" Sherlock rolls his eyes again. "So now, Mummy, exactly how long are you planning to stay?"
"Don't be rude, honey." Mummy sits on the couch. Hamish, courious little one as he is, stands and comes to her, brilliant smile on his lips. She responds with the same smile, and starts talking to him, and she reminds Sherlock so much in it, treating Hamish as an adult. He seems to immediatelly love her. "I just popped up to check on you, I won't stay long. I'm just so glad you have a family now! John, your son is so adorable."
They chat for a moment, Sherlock curled in a ball in his chair, trying to ignore his mother, but he fails and slowly starts participating in the conversation. Minutes pass by, and John is almost relaxed when suddenly Mummy smiles to him cutely and asks: "So when exactly are you getting married?" and John almost chokes on his tea. He waits for Sherlock to make a sarcastic remarks, but great detective just sits in his chair, eyes fixed on the floor, and he says nothing. He's cheeks are slightly blushed and John has no idea, why he reacts like that.
Mummy realizes something's wrong, and she apologises quickly, but atmosphere seems to be ruined.
"Oh, I see, you haven't discussed it yet, I'm sorry." She says, but John is fairly sure she's not sorry at all, judging from her smile. "Anyway, I will be going now, my husband is waiting for me."
They say goodbye, mood all awkward again, and she leaves, kissing Hamish on the cheek.
They sit in silence and John thinks frantically what to say. Finally, he just decides to settle on "Is everything okay?" which, he realizes, sounds quite pathetic.
"Of course." Mumbles Sherlock, eyes still held firmly on the floor.
"Hey." John stands up, comes over Sherlock's chair and kneels on the floor, taking detective's hand. "What is it all about?"
"Nothing." He says quietly.
"Listen, I know it's something about mentioning marriage what bothers you so much, but you have to help me here. Please, tell me." He bows his head and kisses Sherlock's wrist.
"Well, you've been married to Mary." Stats detective rather sourly, his head turned away.
"Yes." Admits John. "Yes, I was. But..."
"And you loved her." Interrupts Sherlock.
"Yes, I loved her." John considers how to play the situation. He should've realized that Sherlock was jealous of Mary, of course he was. But the thing was, Mary was dead, and John loved Sherlock with completely different kind of love than her. He wasn't sure, though, how to explain it to his brilliant, infuriating lover. "But I love you much more, you know. It's entirely different with you. With Mary, yes, it was simple, and it was really good, but with you...It's like totally different universe."
Sherlock finally looks him in the eyes, and John is almost shocked by amount of insecurity he sees there.
He slowly realizes it's only one thing he can do, and why exactly didn't he think of it earlier? It's all he really want, and he becomes aware of the fact hat he should've done it days ago.
"And you know what, since I'm already on my knees here..." He takes deep breath. "Sherlock Holmes, will you marry me?"
Sherlock says nothing, but slides to his knees next to John, wraps his arm around him and kiss him – and John is pretty sure, that's a very definite yes.