Decisions

(Holmes)

I couldn't help but notice how ravishing Samantha looked as my brother led her away from me. The fabric was perfectly molded to her, showing off every delicate curve on her body. I tried to ignore the sharp stab of jealousy as Mycroft's hand rested on her hip and the two of them engaged in what seemed to be comfortable conversation. I wasn't one for dancing, but in that moment I had instantly regretted not involving myself in the intimate gesture with her myself.

Watson had left his bride to mingle amongst the other guests and came to stand at my side, patting my back in a brotherly manner.

"Shouldn't that be you out there old boy?" he asked, nodding in Mycroft's and Samantha's direction, watching as he effortlessly twirled her around the room.

"I didn't ask her," I replied. "I realize now that perhaps I should have…Do you think she will choose to stay Watson?"

"You still haven't told her have you?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"Not yet, but I promised I would by night's end." I sighed and stuffed my hands into my pockets; grazing over the watch. "I can't bear to loose her Watson, not this soon."

I watched as the pair of them danced around the other couples gliding across the floor, still envious at the closeness she was sharing with none other than my elder brother. Watching as he quietly made his own deductions about her, attempting to figure out the beautiful mind that stood before him.

"Do you love her Holmes?" I heard Watson ask from my side.

"To the point of madness," I said quietly, closing my eyes and sighing once more.

"Then go to her Holmes. Tell her everything. You never know; she may surprise you."

Their dance stopped suddenly and Samantha's silver blue eyes met mine as she stepped away from Mycroft's grasp. Quickly, I made my way to her, not wasting a moment as I slid an arm around her and pulled her close, breathing in her lavender scented curls.

Mycroft nodded once to me and left us to be alone. Samantha hesitated momentarily before relaxing and moving along with me across the floor.

"Samantha I-"

"You, Sherlock Holmes, are a complete idiot," she hissed into my ear; her body betraying her mind as she allowed her self to press even more into my body.

"What makes you say that darling?"

"Mycroft was quick to let the cat out of the bag," Samantha curtly replied.

"And has that upset you?" I asked, pulling back slightly to capture her gray eyes with my own, hoping to find some sign that she too had been drawn in by the familiarity of my brother's ordeal. Her lips were tight and thin, and the lack of blue in her gaze was disconcerting indeed, however, she still made herself comfortable in my arms, gently raking her fingers through the hair just above my neckline.

"I honestly don't know how I feel Sherlock," Samantha sighed. She slowed our dance and brought it to a stop. Laying her hands on my chest as a sad smile crept onto her face. She sighed once more before shaking her head, blinkingly slowly at me with her now colorless eyes. She turned away and briskly began to walk towards the door.

"Samantha wait," I called after her, only to no avail; she kept her back turned and her head forward as she left me standing alone in the center of the room.

"Samantha!" I tried again. The speed of her steps had done nothing but increase as I watched the door swing closed behind her. She was hurt, genuinely hurt, I knew that much; I had placed her into the ultimate decision. To go home, back to her bakery to spend her days waiting for something that may never come, or remain by my side and step into the unknown, not knowing when or if we shall return.

I found her sitting alone on a stone bench just outside the church doors. It was an unusually clear night, despite the soft snow flakes fluttering towards the ground. The moon light made her skin glow and the flakes left small glittering wet patches on her bare shoulders. She extended an arm out and let the snow land in the palm of her hand, smiling sadly as she rubbed them with the pad of her thumb. I removed my coat and placed it around her slightly shivering body before sitting down beside her.

"I've come to believe that the only reason snow has fallen so early is because you're here," I said in a weak attempt to lift her spirits.

"Lucky me," she replied, rubbing her hands together, wiping them clean of winters mark.

"I wanted to tell you myself Samantha," I said softly. "I never thought Mycroft would be the one to inform you."

"He wouldn't have," she said. "At least I don't think he would have…if I hadn't of asked, and for that I am the one who should be sorry." She shifted her position to face me, a mixture of emotions stirred behind her features. "I should have waited, I would have much rather of heard it from you," she said softly, folding her hands into her lap and closing her eyes as her head fell forward, causing her hair to fall in front of her face. "Maybe then it would have been easier," she whispered

Gently, I tilted her chin up and tucked her dark tresses behind her ear, stroking her cheek with my thumb while the hurt in her eyes made my stomach clench.

"Perhaps I should have told you sooner," I told her as my hands slid down her arms and my fingers found hers in my coat sleeves.

"You'll go anyway won't you? Even if I choose to leave?" she asked.

"You already know the answer to that Samantha," I sighed, giving her a weak smile.

"Yea," she scoffed. "Its part of who you are I suppose." She curled her delicate fingers around my hands and squeezed gently before standing up and walking back towards the church doors. I hung my head and sighed, placing my hands inside my pockets, worried about the inevitable choice she still had to make. My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when two small hands landed on either side of my face, pushing back into my hair as a pair of familiar lips quickly came down onto my own; hungrily exploring the depths of my mouth as her legs straddled one side of me.

"You're an idiot, Sherlock Holmes," she said sternly, abruptly ending our kiss. "You are an idiot for thinking that for one second that I would give you up and let you wander into the unknown without me."

I blankly stared back at her, trying to withhold the bottle of joy that was beginning to over flow inside of me.

"So you'll be staying then?" I asked her with a crooked grin.

"It would appear to be so," she replied, her gray eyes starting to fill with color. I wasted no time in getting to my feet and pulling her into my arms, holding her tightly as the snow danced around us.

"I was almost certain that you would choose to leave," I whispered into her hair as my hands cradled her back.

"You've given up years of your life for me Sherlock; years of one lifetime to spend mere days with me. It's my turn, to give up something for you," she said resting her head on my shoulder.

"I don't regret a single moment Samantha and I wouldn't think twice about doing it all over again," I softly replied. "Now come, my dear, before the Watsons wonder where we have disappeared to." She hooked her arm through mine as I led her back inside with a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart.

(Samantha)

Hannah latched onto my neck once I told her I wasn't returning home, squeezing the air out of my lungs and putting a nice amount of unwanted pressure on my already aching ribs.

"Oh Sammy," she squealed. "Just when I thought this day couldn't get any better."

"I wouldn't get too excited just yet Hannah," I said sipping my drink. "We're leaving for Mycroft's in the morning, and who the hell knows when we'll be able to find our way back from wherever it is those maids are disappearing to."

"True, true, but I just know you'll find a way, and when you do you can teach Mrs. Hudson how to properly bake cranberry muffins," Hannah laughed. "She does try, poor thing."

"Cranberry muffins?" I asked arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Sherlock kept going on and on about them the first time he came back, she was only trying to cheer him up, but it ended with him tossing the tray out the window and onto the street."

I glanced across the room at Sherlock who was standing between John and Mycroft, the three of them seemed to be enjoying themselves, even if you could almost see the tension that stood between Sherlock and his brother.

"Is that so?" I asked, smiling to myself. "It did shut him up…for a minute. It seems like that was so long ago," I sighed watching the legendary pair of men from across the room.

"I bet never in your right mind did you think you'd end up here," Hannah said.

I put my hands on her shoulders and looked into her shining hazel eyes as a devious smirk found it's way onto my face.

"Come on now, we both know my mind has never been right," I said, giving her a wink. "Now, if you don't mind, I hear a bed and a fluffy pink pig calling my name." I gave her a hug and told her to enjoy her getaway with John, then crossed the room full of mingling and drunken guests, on a mission to steal away my dear detective. I stopped in front of John, whose cheeks were flushed and the smell of alcohol was still fresh on his breath.

"Samantha my dear!" he exclaimed, opening up his arms to me. "I have you to thank for this glorious day you know! Without you, I'd have never met my darling little Hannah." He pulled me into a firm hug.

"And I'm grateful that Holmes has found you as well," he whispered into my ear before letting me out of his hold.

"You're a good man, John Watson; I wish you two the best of luck."

"And the same to you Ms. Parker, don't let him drive you mad," John said half jokingly, raising his eyebrows.

"It's a little late for that," I chuckled, earning a wide cheshire like grin from Sherlock.

"Excuse me gentlemen," John said nodding to Sherlock and Mycroft. "I must now go and find my new bride."

Sherlock stepped in front of me, locking his dark eyes onto mine and smiled softly.

"We will leave for your home in the morning Mycroft," he said, not moving his eyes from mine as he spoke. "The day after the wedding just as I promised you."

"We?" Mycroft asked disconcertingly.

"Yes, we," I answered for him, shifting my eyes to his brothers direction. "That won't be a problem now will it Mr. Holmes?" I asked with a smirk.

"Of course not," Mycroft said. "I just never imagined Sherlock would agree to let someone other than Watson to assist him, let alone a woman."

"Hmm, it would seem dear brother, that your imagination has proved you wrong," Sherlock replied, offering his arm to me. "It's getting rather late dear, shall we leave?" He asked as my arm slid around his and he placed his hand over mine.

"Mmmm, I thought you'd never ask," I smiled tightening my grip affectionately.

"Then until tomorrow Mycroft," Sherlock said nodding to his brother before brushing past him, out of the church.

I was quick to get out of that dress and into some normal clothes, making myself comfortable beneath the covers. Sherlock made himself busy tinkering with various items spread across his desk while puffing on his pipe, filling the room with the familiar sweet scent of tobacco. It didn't take long before I drifted off to sleep; I know now that I made the right decision. I belonged by his side no matter what the time or place was, it just took longer than it should have to make up my mind.

Something was making my eyes flutter open, something soft and soothing calling me out of bed.

Music.

Hauntingly sweet music was floating up the stairs and into the room; the harmonic tone was pure perfection being drawn across the strings and now, had my full attention. The door was slightly open and the air chilly when I crossed the room and slipped on Sherlock's tattered robe and crept down the stairs into the main sitting room. There he stood, next to the window with his suspenders hanging off his sides; violin in place, oblivious to the world around him. He looked totally relaxed as he moved the bow with such care and precision, relaxed, vulnerable, beautiful even, as the music took on a life of its own. I stood in the doorway and watched in awe; I knew he could play, but knowing and witnessing are two very different things, it was a sight I would replay in my mind over and over again, for years to come. The sheer beauty of the combination of organized chaos and complete control over the instrument tucked under chin was enough to make me want him even more. His motions came to a stop and he turned to set the violin in the chair; noticing my figure propped up against the door frame.

"I didn't mean to wake you Samantha," Sherlock said softly as I made my way across the room.

"Moonlight Sonata," I whispered. "It was beautiful Sherlock, and one of my favorites. Did you know that? Gram had piles of classical records in the house growing up; I used to put them on to fall asleep." I stopped in front of him and took his hands, my own fingers running over his callused ones before gently kissing the tips.

"It reminded me of you," he whispered, moving his hands from my lips and into my hair and resting his head in the crook of my neck, his warm mouth caressing my cool skin.

"Mysterious, alluring, exquisite," Sherlock murmured against my skin, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses up my neck before finding my lips. I stifled a moan as he nipped at my bottom lip, his tongue begging for entrance. My hands fisted in his shirt before running them up his chest and into his hair, getting lost in his dark waves. His hands trailed down my back and rested on my hips, grasping them firmly as he lifted me off the floor causing my legs to wrap around him. Sherlock effortlessly carried me up the stairs, his mouth hardly ever moving away from my body. I pushed the door closed once we entered the room; he gently set me down to maneuver through the maze of scattered books and furniture. I let the robe fall to the floor as I approached the bed, turning to him and slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, allowing my hands to roam freely over his warm skin. His hands moved just a freely, sweeping under my shirt and swiftly pulling it over my head, taking a step closer causing me to back up onto the bed. He crawled over me, dropping kisses onto my bruised abdomen as his hand found it's way under the waistband of my pants, slowly sliding them down and off onto the floor, adding his own pants into the growing pile of clothes. Sherlock gently guided himself into me, holding his weight as he claimed my lips with his own, groaning into my mouth as we moved together as one, releasing simultaneously as we both were pushed over the edge of ecstasy. There was no need to re-stoke the fire that night; the heat radiating off our bodies as we curled into each other, Sherlock's arm protectively draped over my waist and his face buried in my neck.

The snow glistened in the moonlight as it drifted down past the window, I had no idea of what was in store for us beyond Mycroft's hedges and at the moment I didn't care. All that mattered to me was this moment of undying bliss, and the man that was sleeping softly at my side.

A/N: I know, I know, I said I'd update by Christmas...but Epic Mickey got in the way of that...but hey I'm only a few days late, and I gave you guys some sweet lemonade! Hope everyone had a fabulous holiday, I sure did! And I hope you enjoyed the update.

-Shelly