A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

by tavingtonsbeauty

Seems impossible, but the man known as Sherlock Holmes is easily bored. That boredom drove him to the arms of a highly intelligent woman who could keep up with him both physically and mentally. However, when a child is thrown into the mix, Sherlock steps up, to the chagrin of the woman, and they marry. With so much baggage on both sides will it work or be a match made in hell.

26. Hope's Promise

A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 26 – Hope's Promise

Sherlock looked back at the crowd and cocked his head. "Through the Bloody Guardsman and the stag night I discovered Tessa and the group of women who thought they had been dating a ghost. He had been a different person every time. Different names, different addresses. He was stealing the identity of corpses ..." He cocked his head. "... getting the names from the Obituary columns. All single men. He's using the dead man's flat under the assumption it'll be empty for a while." He smiled a little. "Free love nest."

Marion made a face. "That is horrific." She muttered.

Janine beside her smiled a little. "I don't know. Seems pretty clever to me."

Marion rolled her eyes as Sherlock continued.

"This man was a Mayfly. He lived for a day. Married. Obvious, really. Our Mayfly Man was trying to escape the suffocating chains of domesticity ..."

John grimaced and shook his head while Mary widened her eyes briefly and then smiled at him.

"... and instead of endless nights in, watching the telly, or going to barbecues with awful dreadful boring people he couldn't stand, he used his wits, cleverness and powers of disguise. "... He finally took a breath, and smiled slightly. "... to play the field. He was ..." He stopped when he realized that he has lost his audience again.

The guests looked silently back at him. He looked down to his right to see John looking back at him straight-faced and Mary was wrinkling her nose and shaking her head slightly. Sherlock then looked back at his wife who had leaned forward a little and she had narrowed her eyes.

"On second thoughts I probably should have told you about the Elephant in the Room. However, it does help to further illustrate how invaluable John is to me. I can read a crime scene the way he can understand a human being. I used to think that's what made me special…quite frankly, I still do. But a word to the wise: should any of you require the services of either of us, I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life. Trust me on that…I should know. He's saved mine so many times, and in so many ways." He looked back at his wife thoughtfully. "He helped deliver my children into this world, he had become a good friend of my wife as well as me, and for that I feel very blessed." He held up his phone. "This blog is the story of two men and their frankly ridiculous adventures ..." He smiled and the guests chuckled. "... of murder, mystery and mayhem. Love, birth and death. But from now on, there's a new story…a bigger adventure." He looked down at the newlyweds, who smiled happily. "Ladies and gentlemen, pray charge your glasses and be upstanding." He picked up his own flute while the guests did likewise and stood up.

The photographer walked forward with his camera.

Sherlock lifted his glass. "Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson." John sighed a little, while Mary giggled. "The two reasons why every single one of us is ..." He stopped, freezing in place, staring blindly toward the guests.

The photographer snapped several photos of him, but the popping flashbulb didn't make him react. Sherlock's fingers loosened slightly and his champagne flute slipped out of them and begins a very slow-motion tumble toward the floor.

ZzZ

Sherlock was in his mind a moment. The surroundings were of a council room chamber.

"What did you say?" He asked.

Five women stood before him. They were all the women he had chatted with online about dating the ghost he now called the Mayfly Man.

He cocked his head and pointed at Tessa who was wearing her nurse's outfit. The same one he had been wearing when they had met and he had been nearly too drunk to function.

Sherlock stepped toward her. "You said, 'John Hamish Watson.' You said that. You said, 'Hamish.'" He circled around her. "How did you know? How did you know his middle name?" He walked backwards, still facing her. "He never tells anyone. He hates it." He blinked. "Took him years to confide in me."

At the reception, Sherlock's glass continued its ultra-slow-motion fall toward the floor as Sherlock reflected on this turn of events.

In the Council Chamber, Tessa smiled brightly at Sherlock. "Enjoy the wedding." It was the last thing she had typed to him in their conversation. He blinked and pointed at her. "The wedding. You knew about the wedding; more importantly, you'd seen a wedding invitation. Now barely a hundred people had seen that invitation. The Mayfly Man only saw five women. For one person to be in both groups ..." He tilted his hand back and forth. "... could be a coincidence."

"Oh, Sherlock." Mycroft's voice said.

Sherlock turned to see his brother standing at the podium watching him. The women left his mind palace for now as he looked up at his brother.

"What do we say about coincidence?"

Sherlock walked slowly toward him. "The universe is rarely so lazy."

"So, the balance of probability is ...?"

"Someone went to great lengths to find out something about this wedding."

"What great lengths?"

"They lied, assumed false identities."

"Which suggests ...?"

"Criminal intent."

"Also suggests ...?"

"Intelligence, planning."

"Clearly. But more importantly ...?" Marion said this time, standing to the left of Mycroft looking down at her husband. She was in a dress of dark blue that hugged her form, showing her curves and was clearly a cocktail dress by the length. Her hair was in the thick braid over one shoulder. Her dark eyes met his.

The champagne glass continued its fall.

"The Mayfly Man." Sherlock said to the pair in his head.

The champagne glass continued downwards.

The Mayfly Man is ..."

Suddenly Sherlock spoke aloud as the glass smashed on the floor at his feet. "... here today." He looked down at it. "Ooh, sorry. I ..." He looked at the floor again and made an exasperated noise in his throat.

The head waiter came to him with another glass. "Another glass, sir?"

"Thank you, yes. Thank you, yes." Sherlock said.

He looked out at the guests.

"Something is going to happen…right here." Mycroft said in his mind.

"Something bad, Sherlock. Think it out." Marion said also in his mind.

Sherlock looked at her a moment, a little unfocused and she looked up at him quizzically. He turned back to the guests as his thoughts raced. "Now, where were we?"

Mycroft spoke again. "Could be any second."

Holding their glasses in the reception room, Mrs. Hudson and Greg looked a little anxious. Greg looked at Mrs. Hudson and frowned.

"You have control of the room." Mycroft said.

"Ah, yes. Raising glasses and standing up. Very good. Thank you." Sherlock said.

"Don't lose it." Mycroft said sternly.

At the reception, Sherlock raised both hands and gestured downwards. "And down again."

Confused, the guests started to sit down, murmuring amongst themselves. Sherlock looked at them for a moment, then put his glass down on the table and straightened up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech…get off early, leave 'em laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind. But for now ..." He put one hand on the table and quickly jumped over to the other side. The guests gasped in surprise.

Marion looked after him and shook his head.

"... part two." Sherlock said. He walked into the central aisle between the tables. "Part two is more action-based. I'm gonna ... walk around, shake things up a bit." He looked at each person as he walks past, tagging each of the men with a sign near them reading, 'MAYFLY MAN?' The only male guest who didn't get a tag was young Archie. "Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding?"

Two thirds of the way along the room he turned around.

"Well, everyone." He clapped his hands once. "Weddings are great! Love a wedding."

"What's he doing?" Mary asked john quietly.

"Something's wrong." John said looking in concern.

Marion nodded and watched her spouse.

Sherlock pointed at John as he walked back. "And John's great, too! Haven't said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his ... jumpers ..."

John closed his eyes in disbelief. Out on the floor Sherlock was still pacing and turning back and forth, peering at each of the male guests and their imaginary tags he had labeled them with.

"... and he can cook. Does ... a ... thing ... thing with peas ..."

Marion blinked. "Peas?" she asked John.

John and Mary exchanged a puzzled glance. Sherlock continued to pace and looked closely at the guests. "... once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. But heâ ™s got a great singing voice ... or somebody does." He sighed in frustration, his teeth clenched. "Ahh, too many, too many, too many, too many!" He grimaced angrily, the 'MAYFLY MAN?' tags now huge and overwhelming him. He stopped and took a breath and the tags disappeared. "Sorry. Too many jokes about John! Now, er ..."

Inside his head he slowly walked across the Council Chamber toward Mycroft and Marion again, staring up at them.

"Criminal intent." Mycroft said.

"Where was I? Ah, yes ..." Sherlock started and stopped.

"Extraordinary lengths." Marion in the chamber said. She looked intently at him.

"Speech!" Sherlock said. He pointed towards the top table, grinning round at the guests. "Speech." He clapped his hands together again. "Let's talk about ..."

"All of which is suggestive of ...?" Mycroft asked lifting an eyebrow.

In the Chamber, Sherlock's eyes widened and he pressed his lips together to begin forming the word.

Sherlock then looked and realized he was out of his mind palace. "... murder."

John sighed and lowered his head, while Mary frowned. Marion took a breath and looked ready to go fetch her husband.

"Sorry, did I say 'murder'? I meant to say 'marriage'…but, you know, they're quite similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other, and it's over when one of them's dead." He emphatically sounded the 'da' at the end of the word. Again John sighed and lowered his head. Marion shrugged at Mary.

"In fairness, murder is a lot quicker, though. Janine!" Sherlock said stepping behind a couple.

She looked up a little wide-eyed at him.

"What about this one? Acceptably hot?" He grinned at Janine and then looked at the woman sitting beside the man. "More importantly, his girlfriend's wearing brand-new uncomfortable underwear ..."He noted the top part of the woman's dress, where the seam of her ill-fitting bra…or whatever she was wearing underneath…was visible through the material. He then looked across to a thread on the man's jacket. "... and hasn't bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket ..." He smiled. "... or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he's going home alone." Sherlock now had his phone behind his own back and was rapidly typing onto it with his thumb. "Also, he's a comics and sci-fi geek. They're always tremendously grateful…really put the hours in." He said as he chuckled. "Geoff, the gents." He looked across to Greg and jerked his head toward the door. "The loos, now, please."

"It's Greg."

"The loos, please."

Greg's phone beeped a text alert. "Why?" He asked reaching into his pocket.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's your turn." He jerked his head toward the door again, grimacing. Greg looked at his phone and the new text message which read:

Lock this place down.

"Yeah, actually, now you mention it ..." He said rising to his feet.

Sherlock pocketed his own phone.

"Sherlock, any chance of a…an end date for this speech? Gotta cut the cake." John said.

While Greg headed out of the door, Sherlock smiled widely and danced down the aisle. "Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, can't stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for once, Vatican Cameos." He directed the last two words directly to John and Marion in a conversational way as if they're a natural part of the sentence.

John straightened up in his chair as did Marion. John looked at her and realized she knew the code as well and she touched her knee and he realized the reflex was because she was armed under her dress.

"What did he say? What's that mean?"

John looked at her and leaned to her. "Battle stations. Someone's gonna die."

"What?!" Mary gasped.

Marion looked like a cat ready to spring on command.

John put his hand over Mary's, silently shushing her. Sherlock turned to look at the guests, where all the men are tagged with the 'MAYFLY MAN?' question again.

"Narrow it down." Mycroft ordered from the Chamber room.

At the reception, Sherlock grimaced, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

"Narrow it down." Mycroft ordered again.

Sherlock blinked in the reception room, lowering his head and screwing his eyes shut again to focus.

"Narrow. It. Down." This time it was Marion in the Chamber room, her voice full of authority.

"Think Sherlock! NARROW IT DOWN!" Mycroft barked leaning forward.

Sherlock roared loudly with frustration and rage and slapped himself hard on the right cheek. "No! He slapped the other side as well, loudly pulling himself from his mind palace. "No!" He barked angrily. Marion cocked her head her hand planted on the table, ready to lurch forward if needed. The tags disappeared from above the men's heads. Sherlock angrily pointed upwards with the index fingers of both hands. "Not you! Not you!" He growled. The images of his wife and brother doubled and disappeared from his mind as he then lowered his hands to point at the top table. "You." He said looking directly at John.

John straightened again, looking back at him.

Sherlock walked toward him, now pointing at him with just one hand. "It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right." He said.

John stood as he walked up to the table. Marion did as well, looking at the two men.

"What do I do?" John asked.

"Well, you've already done it. Don't solve the murder." He looked at his friend intensely. "Save the life." He said. He leaned forward and reached up to his wife who was looking intently at him, panting as though she had a surge of adrenaline, which was true she had and looked ready to fight off the threat to protect family and friends. Sherlock pulled her to him over the table and kissed her, fiercely, before releasing her with a loud smacking sound as his lips let her go. She had to put her hands on the table to stabilize herself and she looked after him startled by the bruising kiss and the intensity he had delivered it. She was speechless as he turned away.

Drawing in a sharp breath through his nose, he turned toward the guests again with a manic grin on his face. "Sorry. Off-piste a bit. Back now." He smiled more and his voice went high pitched. "Phew!" He touched his head and then his hands flailed out playfully.

Marion recovered enough to look at John who looked back at her. Both were ready for action.

Sherlock clapped his hands together and looked down at the floor. "Let's play a game." He raised his eyes while lowering his head a little more, staring intensely out into the room at the guests. "Let's play Murder." He said in a sinister way.

Behind him, John sat down again and nodded to Marion who did as well. She touched her mouth and then noticed that Kerrin was waking up. She smiled at Janine and reclaimed her son as he started to fuss a little. She walked from the room to feed him.

Sherlock prowled forward, his eyes flickering around the room at the guests.

"Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said disapprovingly.

Sherlock steepled his hands in front of his chin as he progressed forward. "Imagine someone's going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?"

"I think you're a popular choice at the moment, dear." Mrs. Hudson said.

Sherlock gestured behind him. "If someone could move Mrs. Hudson's glass just slightly out of reach, that would be lovely. More importantly, who could you only kill at a wedding?" He turned back to look at the guests and gave each one…both the men and the women…a new tag reading, 'TARGET?' "Most people you can kill any old place. As a mental exercise, I've often planned the murder of friends and colleagues. Even my wife on occasion." Rubbing his hands together in an Evil Genius sort of way, he walked back along the room and then gestured towards John. "Now John I'd poison."

Mary nervously looked across to her husband.

"Sloppy eater…dead easy. I've given him chemicals and compounds…that way, he's never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn't have a clue. Lestrade's so easy to kill, it's a miracle no-one's succumbed to the temptation. My wife would be the trickiest, she's quick, has as much martial skill as I do, and though small is powerful. The element of surprise or really good tranquilizers." He turned and heads toward the back of the room again. "I've got a pair of keys to my brother's house…I could easily break in there and asphyxiate him." He made strangling gestures with his hands and then seems to realize that he may have gone too far. He coughed. "... if, if the whim arose."

"He's pissed, isn't he?" Tom said softly to Molly.

Without even looking round at him, Molly stabbed a plastic fork onto the back of his hand, hard!

"Ow!" Tom yelped.

Sherlock continued. "So, once again, who could you only kill here?" He turned and faced the guests again. A few chairs nearest him were now suddenly empty, but still have their 'TARGET?' tag pointing to the seats. He twirled his fingers and the tags disappeared. "Clearly it's a rare opportunity, so it's someone who doesn't get out much." More guest tags disappeared and the guests themselves vanished as well. "Someone for whom a planned social encounter known about months in advance is an exception. Has to be a unique opportunity." He turned around and more of the guests have gone. "And since killing someone in public is difficult ..." He turned again and more guests have disappeared. "... killing them in private isn't an option. Someone who lives in an inaccessible or unknown location, then." He turned again and all the visible seats are now empty, except one. "Someone private, perhaps, obsessed with personal security." One final 'TARGET?' tag drifted into view as he walked forward. It was pointing at the only person left in the room. Sherlock turned to face him. It was Major Sholto. "Possibly someone under threat."

Sholto turned and looked at him.

Sherlock stared back at him. Sherlock tried to act nonchalantly as he walked over to a nearby table and picked up one of the name cards on it while pulling a pen on a chain from his waistcoat. "Ooh! A recluse, small household staff." He wrote on the card. "High turnover for additional security." Sherlock walked to the major and dropped the paper before him. "Probably all signed confidentiality agreements." He looked back at the guests. "There is another question that remains, however â " a big one, a huge one: how would you do it? How would you kill someone in public?"

Sholto picked up the name card and looked at the writing on it. It read: IT'S YOU

"There has to be a way. This has been planned." Sherlock said.

"Mr. Holmes! Mr. Holmes!" Archie said suddenly.

Sherlock turned to him. "Oh, hello again, Archie." He bent forward to get more down to Archie's level. "What's your theory? Get this right and there's a headless nun in it for you."

Lizzy looked up suddenly interested as well.

"The invisible man could do it." Archie said.

"The who, the what, the why, the when, the where?" Sherlock asked.

"The invisible man with the invisible knife. The one who tried to kill the Guardsman." Archie said.

Lizzy nodded and lifted her drawing. "Walks through walls. Could be here now, daddy."

Sherlock gasped and straightened up, his eyes wide. In his mind he was standing in front of his information wall at 221B, looking at all the wedding plans stuck up behind the sofa. He zoomed in on a wedding invitation pinned to the wall, announcing the wedding at St Mary's Church, Sutton Mallet on Saturday 12th of April at 12 o'clock. He moved to look at his list of things to do and focused on the word 'Venue'.

He shifted his focus to the word 'Plan' and then saw a close-up of Private Bainbridge standing on guard outside the barracks, his gaze fixed on the three tourists over the road as they walk away and revealed the stalker.

Sherlock moves his eyes to look at the word 'Rehearsal'. In flashback, the Duty Sergeant walked into the shower room and rapped on the cubicle door, calling Bainbridge's name before he saw the slumped body and bloodstained water.

Sherlock zoomed in on the word 'Rehearsal'. He grimaced

In the reception room Major Sholto got to his feet, picked up his ceremonial sword propped against the window and turned to walk toward the door.

Sherlock turned his head away, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them again. "Oh, not just planned. Planned and rehearsed." He murmured.

He turned and watched as Sholto reached the door and started to open it. Sherlock turned back and headed quickly towards the top table, swiping someone's champagne glass from a table as he went.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a short interlude." He skidded to a halt in front of the top table and turned and held up his glass. "The bride and groom!"

A little uncertainly this time, the guests stood up and raised their glasses. "The bride and groom." They said.

Instantly Sherlock turned back and bent down to John. "Major Sholto's going to be murdered. I don't know how or by whom, but it's going to happen." He turned and started making his way through the guests who were now blocking the aisle.

"'Scuse me, coming through!" Sherlock said.

John quickly turned and took Mary's head in one hand and kissed her.

"Consulting!" Sherlock barked.

"Stay here." John said.

"Please be careful." She said.

John got up and started making his own way through the guests. "'Scuse me. Coming through! 'cuse me."

Mary hesitated for only a few seconds, then jumped up and followed him. "Sorry, one more. Whoops! So sorry! Thank you!"

The guests murmured and chattered to each other in confusion.

ZzZ

Upstairs, Major Sholto walked toward a room. He smiled a little seeing Marion there, nursing her infant son on a bench. He watched her a moment. Her eyes were closed and she looked so peaceful. He sighed and opened the door to his bedroom and walked in. He laid his sword on the bed and then undid the zip around his suitcase. Lifting the lid and laying it back, he picked up a folded shirt on the top of the contents and put it down inside the lid. On top of the rest of his clothing was a large pistol. He picked it up.

Downstairs, on a half-landing partway up the staircase, Sherlock stood with the tips of his fingers against his temples and his eyes screwed closed.

John paced impatiently beside him. "How can you not remember which room? You remember everything."

"I have to delete something!" Sherlock hissed.

Mary ran around the corner and pelted up the stairs in between them, holding her skirt up with one hand to stop herself tripping over it. "Two oh seven." She said.

The two men chased after her and Sherlock quickly overtook her. She took John's hand and they hurried after him. Reaching the second floor, Marion gasped startled as she moved to go down the stairs after finishing her task of nursing and changing her son.

"What are you lot doing here?" She asked bouncing the baby a little.

"Nevermind…" Sherlock said to her. He knocked on the door of Room 207 and tried the handle. It was locked. "Major Sholto? Major Sholto!"

"He is there." Marion said. "He just went in, not three minutes ago."

Sherlock slammed the flat of his right hand repeatedly against the door. "Major Sholto!"

Sholto was seated and then he spoke loud enough to be heard through the door. "If someone's about to make an attempt on my life, it won't be the first time. I'm ready."

"What?" Marion asked.

John walked towards the door. Sherlock stepped back, shaking out his right hand and flexing the fingers.

"Major, let us in." John said.

"Kick the door down." Mary said.

"I really wouldn't. I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes." The major said. "There is a woman with a child just beyond. I would not have blood in front of them." He paused. "Or worse they died at my hand. They are innocents."

"You're not safe in there. Whoever's after you, we know that a locked room doesn't stop him." Sherlock protested.

"'The invisible man with the invisible knife.'" The major laughed a little.

"I don't know how he does it, so I can't stop him, and that means he'll do it again." Sherlock said. He looked at his wife.

"Solve it, then." The major said.

"I…I'm sorry?"

"You're the famous Mr. Holmes. Solve the case. On you go." The major said.

Sherlock straightened up, his eyes rapidly flickering from side to side.

"Tell me how he did it and I'll open the door."

John stepped forward again. "Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in! You're in danger!"

"So are you, so long as you're here." The major said. "Has that charming woman with the babe left?"

"No I am here." Marion said. "Please…let us help you."

Mary watched Sherlock as he paced back and forth across the landing.

"Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don't approve of collateral damage." The major said. "Especially ones so beautiful or innocent as the babe in your arms."

"I am not going anywhere when my husband is under threat."

"Your husband?"

"I am Doctor Holmes, major." Marion said.

"All the more reason you should leave. You are a family." The Major said. "Something I lack sadly. That boy has hair like you. I wonder what my son would have looked like if I would have had one."

"Not too late to try." Marion said.

"My dear, no one would love this face." He took a breath. "No one loves cripples."

"Perhaps you have not been looking for the right person. I wasn't looking for a husband when I fell pregnant and married the famous Sherlock Holmes. Do not sell yourself short. You have a good soul. Anyone worth their measure can see that, despite you trying to forget by shutting yourself away."

John looked at Marion as she stood holding her son as she stood near the door. Charming indeed. Well if she could keep him talking…

Sholto sighed. "You are charming. Perhaps I will know you better if we survive this."

"Can I come in then?" Marion asked hopefully.

"No. I will not endanger you further than you already are." He said.

"But…"

"Solve it." Mary said to Sherlock.

Sherlock stopped and looked at her. "Sorry?"

"Solve it, and he'll open the door, like he said." Mary said to Sherlock.

"If I couldn't solve it before, how can I solve it now?"

"Because it matters now." Mary said spreading her hands.

"Yes exactly. Think Sherlock." Marion said.

"What are you talking about?" He looked at John. "What's she talking about? Get your wife under control." Sherlock said.

"She's right. They both are right." John said. "And one is your own wife. You going to try to control her?"

"Oh, you've changed!" Sherlock hissed.

"No, they are." He turned and pointed at him. "Shut up. You are not a puzzle-solver…you never have been. You're a drama queen."

Marion whirled startled and then smirked. Mary smirked as well. Sherlock's mouth drops open and he stared at him.

"Now, there is a man in there about to die." John said loudly. "'The game is on.'" He said sarcastically. Angrily he pointed at the door. "Solve it!"

Sherlock bared his teeth at him then his eyes suddenly snapped upwards as he retreated into his mind palace. He could see Private Bainbridge in full uniform standing at attention against a white background. Bainbridge rotated as if standing on a turntable, and Sherlock's vision zoomed in to the man's white webbing belt. The image changed to Major Sholto in his dress uniform rotating on the invisible turntable, and again the view zoomed in on his white webbing belt. Sherlock then recalled the waiter in the kitchen downstairs reaching down to take hold of the skewer pushed through the middle of the joint of beef.

In the shower room at the barracks, Bainbridge unclips his belt. The waiter slowly began to pull the skewer out of the joint. Bainbridge unwrapped his belt from around his waist. The skewer came free of the joint, and blood and juice streamed out of the hole. Bainbridge stumbled slightly, looking uncomfortable. Blood continues to pour from the hole in the beef joint. The duty sergeant knocked on the door of the shower cubicle, calling Bainbridge's name. Bainbridge was slumped on the floor inside and bloodstained water poured out under the door.

Outside Sholto's bedroom Sherlock who had closed his eyes during the memories, suddenly opened them again. He stepped over to Mary, took hold of her head in both hands and kissed her forehead. He then kissed Marion's mouth quickly. He then pointed at John. "Though, in fairness, he's a drama queen too." He said.

"Yeah, I know." Mary said nodding as she reached to take Kerrin.

Sherlock sighed as John frowned at him. Sherlock went over to the door and spoke loudly. "Major Sholto, no one's coming to kill you. I'm afraid you've already been killed several hours ago."

"What did you say?"

"What?" Marion asked.

"Don't take off your belt." Sherlock said without turning to her.

"My belt?"

Sherlock turned around and talked to the other three adults. "His belt, yes. Bainbridge was stabbed hours before we even saw him, but it was through his belt. Tight belt, worn high on the waist. Very easy to push a small blade through the fabric and you wouldn't even feel it."

John is nodded his sudden understanding.

"The-the belt would bind the flesh together when it was tied tight ..."

"Exactly." Sherlock nodded.

"Oh!" Marion said.

"... and when you took it off ..." John said.

"Delayed action stabbing. All the time in the world to create an alibi." Sherlock said. He shook the door handle. "Major Sholto?"

"So…I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate." He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror on the wall.

"He solved the case, Major. You're supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal." Mary said.

"We can still save you." Marion said her voice had an edge to it as she leaned close beside Sherlock.

"I'm not even supposed to have this anymore. They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn't imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose…given the circumstances…I don't have to." He carefully tossed the pistol onto the bed and then looked into the mirror again. "When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue." He put his right hand to the belt fastener and tightened his fingers ready to unclip it.

"Whatever you're doing in there, James, stop it, right now. I will kick this door down." John said.

"Please. We have a doctor." Marion said. "This is a happy day. We do not need a death." She pleaded looking at Mary.

"Mr. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think." The major said ignoring her.

John turned away from the door and Sherlock walked closer.

"Yes, I think we are." Sherlock said.

"There's a proper time to die, isn't there?"

"Of course there is."

"And one should embrace it when it comes…like a soldier."

"Of course one should, but not at John's wedding. We wouldn't do that, would we…you and me? We would never do that to John Watson." Sherlock said firmly. He then listened at the door.

Sholto closed his eyes.

Outside, Sherlock stepped away from the door and John walked closer, leaning toward the door and listening for any sound from the room. He straightened up and took his jacket off.

"I'm gonna break it down." John said.

"No, wait, wait, you won't have to." Mary said.

Marion nodded. "He is…"

"Hmm?" John looked at them as he began to roll up his sleeves.

The door opens. Sholto glanced briefly at Sherlock and then Marion. He lowered his eyes before looking at John. "I believe I am in need of medical attention." He said.

"I believe I am your doctor." John said. He followed Sholto as he turned and went back into the room.

Giving Sherlock a quick smile, Mary gave Kerrin back to Marion. She followed her husband.

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment and then followed them.

Marion stepped in as well and smiled as she looked at Sholto. She lifted the now drowsy Kerrin to him. "I think he needs another uncle." She looked at her son. She kissed the small head. "Kerrin, this is your new uncle James." She smiled.

"Kerrin?" Sholto asked as he took the baby in his right arm. Marion nodded and smiled at him.

"Yes."

"How old?" He asked looking at the chubby cheeked boy.

"Two weeks." Marion said. She took a breath and hissed a little as it pulled on her abdomen a little much. She sighed. She would need a pain pill soon.

Sholto smiled. "You are charming. I can see why he married you." He said his eyes going to Sherlock as John pulled out his cell phone to call for an ambulance.

Sherlock smiled a little and nodded. "Quite."

Sholto sat down on the bed and held the baby with his good arm as John took his vitals. Mary sighed and sat beside him as the Holmes' stood together looking at them. The baby was mostly asleep, but Sholto was calm holding him, which was a good thing.

Sherlock sighed and looked at his wife. "Are weddings always this stressful?"

"Yes, but generally not because of murder." She smiled. "Now the question is who did it?"

"Indeed, my love." Sherlock said stepping to the door as he heard sirens approaching.

ZzZ

Night came.

Most of the guests were milling around, some watched the ambulance take the major away. Others just spoke together as the dining area had been turned into a dancehall.

Music was playing. An orchestral rendition of the waltz 'On The Beautiful Blue Danube' by Johann Strauss II could be heard coming from the main room. In the foyer of the wedding venue, Sherlock and Janine were waltzing while Marion looked on smiling as she sat nursing little Kerrin again. Lizzy was in the care of Molly while Lestrade stepped out.

Sherlock was counting time. "One, two, three; der, der, der ... Ahh, pretty good."

"Ooh!" Janine said.

They stopped dancing.

Sherlock released her. "Just ... hold your nerve on your turning."

Janine adjusted the top of her strapless bridesmaid dress. "Why do we have to rehearse?" She asked.

Sherlock leaned close and smiled a little. "Because we are about to dance together in public, and your skills are appalling!" He told her.

He smiled more at her and she laughed. His eyes lifted to Marion who was rocking Kerrin. The small chunky arm flailed as he suckled happily and loudly nearby.

"Well, you're a good teacher."

"Mmm."

"And you're a brilliant dancer."

Sherlock leaned close to her. "I'll let you in on something, Janine."

Janine smiled. "Go on, then."

"I love dancing. I've always loved it." Sherlock smiled.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. He taught me." Marion said without looking up.

Sherlock said to Janine. "Watch out." Looking around to make sure that nobody else could see him, he swung both of his arms to the left, took a sharp breath, raised onto his left foot, and did a full-circle pirouette.

Marion smiled.

"Ooh! Woah!" Janine said.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Never really comes up in crime work but, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case."

Janine sighed wistfully. "I wish you weren't ..." He turned and looked at her. "... whatever it is you are."

"I know." He smiled at her playfully.

John had just walked into view and had spotted them. He walked over.

Marion lifted her dress, realizing the crowd was growing as her son finished. She lifted him and a towel. She began to walk trying to get him to burp.

"Well, glad to see you've pulled, Sherlock, what with murderers running riot at my wedding." He clapped his hand on Sherlock's back.

"One murder... one nearly murderer." Sherlock corrected. He looked at Janine. "Loves to exaggerate. You should try living with him."

The entrance door opened an Greg came in.

"Sherlock?" He pointed back out the door. "Got him for you."

Marion turned. "Pardon? Got who?"

Sherlock clapped his hands together. "Ah, the photographer. Excellent!" He nodded to Greg. "Thank you." He walked over to the photographer and pointed at the camera he's holding. "Er, may I have a look at your camera?"

"Er ..." The photographer pulled his camera back nervously, but then held it out to him. "... what's this about? I was halfway home!"

Sherlock looked at the camera. "You should have driven faster." He looked at the screen on the back of the camera and started flicking through the pictures

"Ah, yes. Yes, very good. There, you see?" He smiled. "Perfect."

"What is? You gonna tell us?" Greg asked.

Sherlock handed him the camera as Marion came over to look. "Try looking yourself."

"Um, look for what?" John asked.

Marion looked up as well as Janine walked over.

Sherlock strolled closer to the photographer.

"Is the murderer in these photographs?" John asked pointing at the camera.

"It's not what's in the photographs; it's what's not in them…not in any of them." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock? The showing-off thing: we've discussed it before." John said looking at him.

"Oh!" Marion said in understanding.

Sherlock met her gaze and nodded. "There is always a man at a wedding who is not in any photograph but can go anywhere, and even carry an equipment bag around with him if he likes, and you never even see his face." He walked closer to the photographer and looked down towards his hand. "You only ever see ..." Sherlock paused a second and smiled at his wife who he knew understood. He then rapidly slapped a pair of handcuffs onto the photographer and attached the other side to a pole. "... the camera."

"What are you doing? What is this?"

Sherlock lifted his mobile phone. "Jonathan Small, today's substitute wedding photographer… known to us as the Mayfly Man. His brother was one of the raw recruits killed in that incursion. Jonny sought revenge on Sholto, worked his way through Sholto's staff, found what he needed ..." He shifted on his feet. "... an invitation to a wedding â " the one time Sholto would have to be out in public. So, he made his plan ..." He looked intently at the man. "... and rehearsed the murder ..." He looked at Lestrade. "... making sure of every last detail."

Small looked at Sherlock coldly.

"Brilliant, ruthless, almost certainly a monomaniac… though, in fairness, his photographs are actually quite good." Sherlock said. He tossed his phone to Greg. "Everything you need's on that. You probably ought to ... arrest him or something."

Marion laid Kerrin down in his car carrier as he drifted to sleep. She covered it and smiled as she saw Mary coming into view. She spotted John, smiled and hurried towards him.

Janine, standing beside Sherlock, leaned closer and spoke quietly without looking at him. "Do you always carry handcuffs?"

"Down, girl." Sherlock smiled.

Marion looked at her. "They're mine." She said.

Lestrade and Janine looked at her startled.

"Come on, quick!" Mary said to John. She reached his side and John put his arm around her as she turned and saw Small nearby.

He was looking at Sherlock fixedly. "It's not me you should be arresting, Mr Holmes."

"Oh, I don't do the arresting." He nodded toward Greg. "I just farm that out."

"Sholto…he's the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker." He grinned manically, then his smile faded and he shook his head. "I shouldn't have tried to be clever."

"You should have driven faster." Sherlock said softly. He took his hands from behind his back and crooked one arm to Janine and the other arm to Marion. They both took an arm and they walked away. John and Mary followed them.

Greg looked down at Sherlock's phone and then looked at Small. "Right ..." He said.

ZzZ

In the reception room, the tables had been cleared away. Looking into each other's eyes, Mary and John were dancing a slow waltz in the middle of the room to the sound of two violins while all the guests stood around the edge of the room and watched them.

On a low stage at the end of the room Sherlock is playing his violin. On the other side of the room, Marion was also playing. He swayed gently as he played, his eyes fixed on the newlyweds. Marion's eyes were closed as she played. As the tune drew to an end, John shifted one hand to Mary's back, held her by the waist with the other and started to dip her backwards.

Mary gasps. "Really?!"

Chuckling, he bent her back as she giggled. He kissed her as the tune ends.

The guests broke into applause and some of them cheered. Everyone was looking at the happy couple except Janine who directed her applause towards Sherlock. She whooped at him.

"Yeah!"

Marion smiled and bowed as those near her helped her off the chair she had been standing on. "Well done." Someone told her.

Janine whooped again. Sherlock looked at her for a moment and then turned to the music stand in front of him. He had taken off his buttoner flower and put it on the stand so that it wouldn't get in the way while he was playing. He picked it up, showed her what he's holding, and then tossed it across the room toward her.

She caught it.

John, who has pulled Mary upright again and was laughing happily and waved his thanks to Sherlock. He kissed Mary again as Sherlock stepped to the nearby microphone as Marion joined John and Mary. Mary hugged her friend and John kissed her cheek.

"Ladies and gentlemen, just, er, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with." He drew in a breath. "More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. I've never made a vow in my life other than to my wife, and after tonight I never will again. So, here in front of you all, my first and last vow. Mary and John: whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you." He hesitated momentarily, then stuttered. "Er, I'm sorry, I mean, I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. I've just miscounted." Marion looked at John and Mary and then her husband her mouth forming a question. He took a sharp breath.

John and Mary exchanged a slightly worried look.

Marion started to walk toward her husband.

"Anyway, it's time for dancing." He smiled and held a hand to his wife. "Marion. If you would be so kind as to offer some music."

She smiled and nodded as she looked at the DJ. She then lifted her violin and the guests started to dance to the lively tune as he stepped down and walked to John and Mary. "Okay, everybody, just dance. Don't be shy!" He smiled as some started. "Dancing, please!"

Sherlock made it to the happy couple. "Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting."

"'Deduction'?" Mary asked.

Sherlock looked at her intently. "Increased appetite ..." He cocked his head. "... change of taste perception ..." He then half smiled. "... and you were sick this morning. You assumed it was just wedding nerves. You got angry with me when I mentioned it to you. All the signs are there."

"'The signs'?" She demanded

Sherlock glanced across to John and then turned his eyes back to her.

"The signs of three." Sherlock said. His gaze dropped to her abdomen.

"What?!"

"Mary, I think you should do a pregnancy test."

John sighed and dropped his head, almost bending over double.

Mary grinned delightedly at Sherlock.

"W... th... the statistics for the first trimester are ..."

"Shut up." John said straightening up.

Sherlock froze in the middle of forming his next word. He looked at John as if waiting for permission to continue.

"Just ... shut up." John said.

"Sorry." Sherlock said.

John turned to Mary. He looked annoyed with himself. "How did he notice before me? I'm a bloody doctor."

"It's your day off." Sherlock said.

"It's your day off!"

"Stop-stop panicking."

"I'm not panicking."

"I'm pregnant… I'm panicking." Mary said.

"Don't panic. None of you panic."

The Watsons both looked down, their faces full of concern.

"Absolutely no reason to panic." Sherlock continued.

"Oh, and you'd know, of course?" John asked.

"Yes, I would. You're already the best parents in the world. Look at all the practice you've had!"

"What practice?"

"Well, you're hardly gonna need me around now that you've got a real baby on the way." Sherlock said. "Besides between Lizzy and Kerrin you are experts."

John stared at him.

Sherlock smiled happily at him. John laughed and reaches out to cup the back of Sherlock's neck. Laughing even more, he turned to his wife and put his other hand on her shoulder as she began to smile with delight.

Sherlock turned his smile toward Mary, but after a moment the smile began to fade a little.

"You all right?" John asked Mary.

"Yeah." She said. She looked up at her friend who was playing the active song on her violin. Marion smiled at her and continued playing for the people dancing to the fun melody, clearly something else that Sherlock or perhaps Marion had written.

John turned back to Sherlock, smiling joyfully. They looked at each other for a long moment and then John broke the eye contact and they both looked a bit awkward. There was a slightly embarrassed pause for a couple of seconds.

Sherlock the looked up and nodded to them. "Dance."

"Mm?" John asked.

"Both of you, now, go dance. We can't just stand here. People will wonder what weâ ™re talking about."

"Right."

Mary reached out to touch Sherlock's arm, her voice tearful. "And what about you?"

Well, we can't all three dance. There are limits!" John said.

"Yes, there are."

John cleared his throat.

Still looking tearful, Mary turned to John. "Come on, husband. Let's go."

"This isn't a waltz, is it?" John asked.

She laughed.

"Don't worry, Mary, I have been tutoring him." Sherlock assured.

"He did, you know. Baker Street, behind closed curtains." John said smiling. Turning to face her, he took her right hand with his left and put his other hand on her waist. "Mrs. Hudson came in one time. Don't know how those rumors started!" He snickered.

Giggling, she put her left hand on his shoulder and they danced off into the crowd. Looking over John's shoulder, Mary smiled at Sherlock and mouthed what could have been a 'thank you'.

He smiled and then nodded to her. As his friends danced away, he lowered his eyes and then slowly turned and looked at everybody dancing all around him, keeping his head lowered as if trying not to meet anyone's eyes.

He looked up at Marion who smiled at him a little and dipped her head a little as she played. He looked very lost and alone in the middle of the crowd. Her smiled gave him a little reassurance.

After a few moments, however, he seemed to have a thought and lifted his head, still looking around but now with more intent. Eventually he saw Janine dancing some distance away. She was wearing his buttoner flower pinned to the top of her dress. She looked across the room and smiled at him.

Returning her smile he started to walk toward her and she lifted her hand and pointed to her right with her thumb up, grinning happily. Sherlock stopped as he realized that she was dancing with the 'comics and sci-fi geek' he had recommended to her earlier. She turned away and continued to dance with her new friend.

Sherlock looked reflective for a few seconds and then turned towards the stage. On the music stand was the hand-written music he and Marion had played for the newlyweds. Marion had moved to the middle of the floor and was dancing as she played the upbeat dancing melody to everyone's delight about her. Sherlock had to admit even he was impressed by the skill.

In the top right-hand corner was written:

Waltz, for Mary & John by Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock picked up the music and folded it into an envelope, which he put onto the stand. Written on the envelope is:

Dr. and Mrs. Watson

Leaving the stage he walked slowly through the guests. Molly, dancing with Tom and Mrs. Hudson, looked across the room and watched him for a few seconds and then turned back to the others. Marion smiled as she watched him go, knowing he had had enough of people for one night.

Marion leaned down as she looked at Greg and Lizzy dancing together. Greg had Lizzy on his shoes and was dancing her around as she smiled in delight at her adopted uncle. Kerrin was even out and being held by a bridesmaid. He had been being passed around since they had all entered the room. He, however, slept fitfully even being moved about in the rhythm of the dance.

In the garden outside the reception room, as the revelers dance on, Sherlock put his coat on and, with the collar turned up to the max, slowly walked away into the center of the area to enjoy the air.

Marion finished playing her violin and then smiled as the DJ started playing upbeat dancing music after the cheers for her died down. She bowed and smiled before taking her leave.

She surveyed the room and did not see Sherlock. She had suspected he had left. She looked outside looking toward the fountain and spotted Sherlock looking up at the sky. She walked out and smiled. She walked to his side and held up a cigarette to him.

He looked at her a moment before taking it and the matches she offered with a look on her face. He cupped his hands and lit the cigarette and lifted his head taking a deep drag and then breathed up forcefully.

"Why?" He asked looking at her knowing she hated the habit as she moved to sit on the stone masonry of the fountain. She adjusted the top of her strapless dress a little and looked up at him.

"It was a long day for you and after solving a murder, tolerating the crowds, and giving a speech, you deserve it." She smiled.

He smiled. "I was thinking of other treats."

She laughed. "I gave birth two weeks ago Sherlock."

He pouted a little and then smiled as he took another drag on his cigarette. "Did you miss all this?"

"I got married in the Eye Sherlock. It was us. Classy, reaching new heights, and full of adventure. We aren't like most people."

"Indeed." He smiled. "I do love you." He said smiling at her a little. He looked back toward the party. "Shall we fetch the children and…"

"Lizzy is dancing with Lestrade. Let her have her fun. She will sleep well tomorrow." She chuckled. "Kerrin is asleep still the piglet." She chuckled.

"He is such a contrast to Lizzy." Sherlock said. He was. He was a ham, hardly cried, watched people, and loved to eat and sleep. Lizzy had not been vocal either, but she had been small, ethereal, and still was.

Marion smiled and then hopped up and walked in the edge looking down at the fountain. She laughed as she stepped in and giggled as she let the water hit her.

"You will ruin your dress." Sherlock said watching her.

"Like I will ever wear it again." She said hands on hips, dripping. "Come dance with me, Sherlock."

"No." He shook his head. Sherlock felt himself harden even as he looked upwards and blew out another drag from his cigarette. "It is a rather good color on you."

She scoffed and then touched the center column as water dropped about her.

"Will you come down? You will catch your death. It is cool this night." He said as he took one last pull before dropping the cigarette and crushing it with his foot. He straightened and released the breath he had been holding, relishing it.

She shook her head and came toward him. He watched her and then she bent as though her shoe had caught and then splashed him. He cried out in surprise and she laughed so hard she fell flat onto her bottom in the clear pool by slipping on the slippery stones.

He chuckled and walked to her as she smiled up at him sheepishly. "Truce?" He asked lifting a hand.

She nodded and he helped her up and out. She rubbed her arms a little and cocked her head at him and looked back at the party. "We really aren't social people are we?" She asked hearing YMCA and the crowd dancing to it. She laughed and removed her shoes as she sat down on a bench a moment.

"No." He leaned to her and looked at her. "But we are perfect for each other. I love you Marion Holmes."

"As I you Sherlock Holmes. As I you." She said and smiled up at him before jumping into his arms pressing her shivering, soaking body to his coat.

He grunted and then kissed her cool lips and held her to him as they stood together. He then began to him a little and move her about in a slow dance. She smiled against his lips and let her head drop to his chest as he slowly waltzed her around the garden to the music in his own head. She sighed. He loved to dance and he was very good at it, but he did it so rarely, she enjoyed the treat.

Nothing else seemed to matter, but the two of them, for now. Above the moon was bright and the party continued not noticing that the Holmes' were dancing together outside in the garden.