The lights were low and the buzzing of the crowd had all but stopped completely. From the orchestra pit a few faints sounds sailed over the crowd, signaling their readiness. Everyone was unconsciously leaning forward, waiting anxiously for the show to begin.

Suddenly, everything went pitch black.

A few startled murmurs from the crowd had John wondering if this was planned or not. He appreciated the theatrics but his past experience had taught him to never accept anything at face value. What others could have deemed perfectly normal or even exciting, John was doing his best NOT to imagine the worst case scenario.

He held his breath and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He was just about to jump up again to see what the hell was going on when a low rumbling came from the stage. It was so low that John had actually felt it before he heard it. Slowly the sound became louder, more clear. An ambient light appeared from both sides of the stage, only causing the minimal illumination among the delicate wisps of smoke that could now be seen curling around the stage floor. The light started out a delicate lilac color, but as the intro began to swell with more instruments joining in, it seemed to change to every hue imaginable. Gasps of wonderment could be heard from the audience as they became thoroughly enraptured in the scene before them.

John relaxed a little. It was all part of the show.

Suddenly there was a loud fanfare followed immediately by lights going completely crazy, lighting up every corner of the hall like it was Guy Fawkes Night. The crowd went crazy at the impressive display. John couldn't help the smile that split his features. This was going to be incredible.

Little did he know….

….

Sherlock waited patiently in the wings backstage. He had watched all the preparations to start the show with a bored eye, at best. Knowing how all the special effects worked was easy enough to work out before he actually saw each feat accomplished. Still he watched, and registered a few things to keep in his Mind Palace. You never know when certain things could be useful.

From his spot backstage he could see John and Mary in their box across the hall. He watched in wonderment at the facial expressions that John was making, clearing enjoying the spectacle before him.

He hoped that before the night was over, he would succeed in getting John to look at him the same way.

Sherlock picked up his violin, satisfied that it was tuned correctly. He absently plucked a string or two, impatiently waiting his cue.

…

When Celine Dion had finally made her grand entrance, the crowd went mad. The sound was almost deafening. John had momentarily joined them on their feet, applauding. Mary just shook her head, no doubt criticizing him in her head once again. John no longer cared. He had every intention of enjoying himself tonight. He could deal with her later. And he had every intention in doing so.

"HELLO LONDON!"

The crowd cheered their response, growing even louder.

After addressing the crowd for a few more minutes the music swelled once again and she launched into her first song of the night: The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face.

John listened to her voice caressing the lyrics. He knew them all by heart, but suddenly he heard them with an entirely new meaning.

: The first time ever I saw your face

I thought the sun rose in your eyes

And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave

To the dark and the empty skies:

John felt his throat go dry. He tried to convince himself that feeling the music surround him so beautifully was causing him to react this way. Live music always had a way of affecting people. After a few more songs that were more upbeat, he had convinced himself that had to be what it was.

But then, she began another song and within a few notes John had instantly recognized it as Declaration of Love. Once again, the lyrics hit him harder than expected.

: You are my knight in armor

The hero of my heart

When you smile at me I see

A true world goes up

The river is getting deep, believe it

You're all these arms of mine want to hold

All wrapped up with a river

Baby, I'm giving you this heart of gold

So listen up, it's you I trust

I feel magic every time that we touch

I pledge allegiance to the heavens above

Tonight to you baby I make my declaration of love:

John glanced at Mary who was looking at him with full smile. Apparently she had seen John's reactions and assumed (incorrectly) that his reaction was based on her. She squeezed his hand tightly, but John was still lost in his own thoughts for him to even notice.

His mind raced around Sherlock and the loud music temporarily faded into the background. He thought of all the things they had done together. Racing around London. Visiting Molly at Saint Bart's. Helping Lestrade at crime scenes. Laughing at the snide remarks that Sherlock made towards Anderson or Donovan. All the reasons that John considered Sherlock his best friend.

But then his mind switched tactics all together. It started showing him scenes from their quieter life together. Eating at Angelo's. Watching crap telly. Playing Cleudo. Or simply sitting together in silence before the fireplace, reading the papers and drinking a cup of tea. There was no one he'd rather be with. No one he'd rather argue with. Because even though Sherlock didn't realize it, he'd given John what he wanted most: a home and someone to come home to. Yes, he had found Mary, and even felt that he loved her enough to ask her to marry him. But there had been too many times when he unconsciously compared the two of them. While she had been content to stay around the house, reading her novels and playing with that damn cat (who never liked him, by the way…he had a scar to prove it.), Sherlock was always trying to find a way to challenge himself, to better himself. Annoying as it sometimes was, John had to admire him for that. In fact, he always had. He just never admitted it.

Where Mary was compliant, Sherlock was challenging. Mary was content to believe whatever was spouted towards her; Sherlock questioned everything. In fact, it had taught him to do the same. And in doing so, it helped build John's confidence. Confidence that he was afraid that he permanently lost when he returned from Afghanistan.

Sherlock had given that all back to him, and so much more.

Suddenly he was VERY antsy to see Sherlock. He didn't care where he was or what he was doing. He felt like he had to say what was on his mind before he lost the nerve to do so.

He stood up so suddenly that he had forgotten that Mary had looped her arm around his and had almost flung her from her chair. She yelped in surprise.

John saw to it that she was settled in her chair again then turned to walk out of the box. Before Mary could say anything he simply said, "Need the loo."

Mary seemed satisfied with his reason for leaving so she turned her attention back to the show.

Just as John walked through the heavy curtains, he was surrounded on each side by the same two ushers he had spoken with before.

"Just looking for the loo guys. Kindly point it out, yeah?" he asked.

"Actually Dr. Watson, you are needed elsewhere." the tallest of the two said.

John's guard immediately went up. "Something wrong? Is someone hurt?" he asked quickly.

The usher just smiled. "Not at all sir. We were just told that there is a special spot reserved for you after the intermission."

Sure enough, he was brought back into the present enough to hear that the band and orchestra were playing a catchy melody but Celine wasn't singing.

"All right then. I'll just get my fiancé?"

"My apologies sir." This time it was the shorter one that spoke. "We were told that it was reserved for you only."

One again, John's defenses went up. Something didn't sound right. This night was supposed to be for the three of them. And although Sherlock was off God knows where, he felt the rest of the night would be for both Mary and himself. He began to think of all the people who may have a vendetta against him and Sherlock. Perhaps they had chosen tonight to catch him off guard so that they could….

Loud chuckling brought him once again crashing into the present. He saw one usher nudge the other.

"Look, just like he said! I can't believe how right he was."

John blinked. "Pardon? Who said what now?"

"Mr. Holmes. He's the one that told us to come and fetch you. He also said that instead of just coming along that you would…. how did he put it? 'Overthink it until we saw steam come out of your funny little head.' And blimey he was right!"

John closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh while pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah. He really needed to see Sherlock soon so that he could slap the prat around. Slowly, he accepted the fact that Sherlock always gets what he wants one way or another.

Squaring his shoulders, he gestured with his hands.

"Lead the way boys."