Sitting in his temporary room later that evening Sherlock turned on the only channel that the stupid inn received. He longed for the vast choices of television he'd had in his pale London hotel room. The lone channel was playing some dim celebrity interview.
The pink-haired host rambled on about some celebrities who were dating, then announced the special guest stars. She giggled, "I'm so excited to talk to today's guest stars! The daughter of famous fashion designer Elle Morstan and the owner of the Morstan hotel chain, Nathaniel Morstan will be visiting us today to talk about her upcoming marriage! Everyone welcome my fashion idol Miss Mary Morstan and her fiancé Dr. John Watson!"
Sherlock sat on the edge of his bed, leaning toward the telly in astonishment. Mary and John appeared on the screen and were seated in two puffy fuchsia chairs. John seated himself in a shy slouch, looking down at the cane he rested against his leg. Mary sat up with perfect posture, smiling to show off her perfect white teeth between her huge raspberry-colored lips. Due to her sitting position and the low cut nature of her shirt, her breasts were revealed in an unpleasantly excessive manner. "Whore," Sherlock mumbled to himself.
The host began to question her visitors. The bubbly young woman asked, "So, everyone knows how depressed John was before you found him and we've all read the rumors about your struggle to revive him, but those articles can't possibly give all the details. What was it really like to begin dating someone who'd recently been traumatized by an iconic fake detective?"
Mary twirled her hair around her finger and replied, "Oh well it was really tough at first! Let me give you the juicy details right from the beginning." The audience sounded with signs of delight! Sherlock rolled his eyes.
Miss Morstan continued, "I met him two years ago at a press conference. At the time, I was following my best friend Stacy, who reports news for BBC. By some brilliant coincidence the day I chose to go to work with her was the day I was destined to meet my Johnny." She reached her arm over to hold John's knee.
Sherlock muttered, "Coincidence and destiny… that's a contradiction."
Mary went on, "He was still in denial back then. He told all the reporters that Mr. Holmes wasn't a fake… that he had been real. He tried to claim that innocent Richard Brook fellow was the phony! Impossible, but I thought he was cute even if he was a bit off his rocker. So, after his little speech at the press conference, I decided to go have a personal chat with him."
The women in the audience giggled with excitement.
The eager host leaned toward Mary and begged, "Oh do please continue!"
Mary smiled, while John leaned back in the chair, bored.
"If you insist! I wouldn't want to bore you all…" she pretended to actually care about others.
The host barked, "I insist!"
Mary carried on, "I went over to see him. There was a long line of eager reporters, but I budged my way to the front. This made my friend Stacy mad, because I wasn't even a reporter, but she forgave me later when I gave her the best story! I went right up to John and I said, 'Sir, you're crazy for believing in that evil man! He tricked you and lied to you and you need to find new friends!' John replied, 'You're right I'm an idiot, I should just move on! He was a fake.' Then, he asked me to lunch and we've been madly in love ever since. Right Johnny dear?" She patted the doctor's knee gently and gave him a crooked smile. John faked a smile.
From John's appearance during this retelling, Sherlock could deduce several things. First, this was not an accurate story of how the couple met. Second, John really had called himself an idiot, but it wasn't a moment of realization. John hadn't moved on at that second. He'd fallen deeper into depression. Third, Mary was an all around sham.
The host grinned and inquired, "But Mary, what was it like to really revive him, to bring him back from his depression? Didn't that take awhile?"
Mary answered, "Well, it was tough. It was so tough! We had to go through lots of counseling to get things fixed." Mary began to produce fake tears. "Some nights he still wakes up from dreadful nightmares covered in tears! He has me though!" Mary wiped fake tears from her eyes.
A single real tear dripped down Sherlock's face. He bent forward and rested his forehead in his hands. He cried, "Why didn't I interfere sooner? I should be the one cuddling John… not her!"
On the screen, the host responded to Mary. She said, "Oh I didn't mean to make you cry. We all admire your strength, Mary! Let's have a round of applause for Mary Morstan! We'll be right back, after this commercial break, with tips on finding the perfect little black dress!"
The next day Sherlock combed his orange hair, put on an expensive suit and followed the happy couple to lunch. They were going out to eat at a fancy restaurant, owned by a friend of Mr. Morstan. Sherlock watched them walk in, and then waited a few minutes before entering. The pure white-clothed tables and origami-like folded napkins filled the room with a sense of wealth. On each table, a vase of purple flowers sat. Sherlock knew his disguise was terrible. In fact it was one of his worst ever. Luckily, the restaurant was crowded, so John and Mary probably wouldn't notice him. When he asked to be seated, the host looked him up and down. She sharply asked, "Just one?" Sherlock nodded.
She rolled her eyes and led him to a table very close to Mary and John. He barked, "No, no. I can't sit here, miss." She showed him to a table even closer to the couple, and he gave up. He offered, "I'll take the other one actually… please?" She was so frustrated, but led him back to the other table and threw an expensive leather menu in his face.
Sherlock eavesdropped on the pair's conversation. Mary said, "I hope you don't mind, but my father doesn't want Greg Lestrade to be your best man."
John inquired, "Why?"
Mary snapped, "Because my cousin Marc Poppy is going to be your best man. Don't worry! Greg can still be one of the groomsmen! He can dance with my other cousin, Marsha Poppy."
John shook his head, "Whatever, dear." He just didn't care enough to argue anymore.
Sherlock signed.
Suddenly, John looked up and noticed the tall man sitting several tables over. Sherlock looked down and covered his face with his menu, but it was too late. John had already seen the familiar face of his best friend. Sherlock began to worry. John mumbled under his breath, "Sherlock."
Mary quacked, "What?"
John moaned, "Nothing, just thought I saw an old friend. I was wrong though. It would be impossible to see him here, because he's dead."
Mary growled, "I thought you were over that Sherlock bloke. Wasn't counseling enough to clear your mind of him?"
John replied, "He was my best friend Mary. Memories of him don't just disappear because I talked to some man in a suit."
The rest of the meal was silent.