Chapter 30: Graduated

"Hey Bianca!" Emma said cordially, answering her phone.

"Emma! You weren't at graduation, we missed you!" Her friend said.

Emma frowned. "I just didn't feel the need to walk, with no one there to see me."

"I would have gone!" Sherlock yelled from the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Bianca asked, suddenly interested. "Was that a boy?"

Emma sighed. "That's my boyfriend." She confirmed.

It felt strange to be finally referring to Sherlock as her boyfriend; he had been her friend for two years, and taking that next step still seemed like a dream.

"Oh, well he can come too!" Bianca invited. "You are coming to my grad party tonight right? You got your invitation?"

Emma glanced at the large stack of unopened invitations on Sherlock's desk.

"Yeah I did – sorry about not replying, I've been kind of busy with – stuff."

"That's OK! Just remember to be there at 6.00!"

"OK, we will." Emma smiled.

"Alright, see you there!"

Emma sighed and hung up; she would have to sift through the invitations to figure out which one was from Bianca, and where her party was.

"Sherlock, we just got invited to a graduation party tonight."

"Do you want to go?" Sherlock asked, walking out of the kitchen with a slice of banana bread.

He handed it to Emmaline and plopped down onto the sofa next to her.

"I'm not working tonight so I don't care. How long has it been since you have eaten?" Emma asked, eyeing the slight bruising under Sherlock's eyes. It seemed that he had not slept for a few days either.

"Today is Saturday so…Thursday evening?" Sherlock thought.

"Sherlock! Go and warm up some of the leftover ham."

"I can't – Lestrade has just given me a murder case."

"And what is it on the scale?" Emma asked, taking a bite.

Sherlock huffed. "A five."

"Ham, now." She ordered.

He sighed but got up and did as he was told.

"So when is this party?" Sherlock asked.

"6.00."

Sherlock glanced over at the clock; it was already 4.00.

"And you told her we were going?"

"I might have." Emmaline admitted.

Sherlock rolled his eyes; of course, Emmaline would have asked his permission after she had promised their attendance. It would be good for her, he thought, to hang out with people her own age. She had not gone to graduation, and had no plans on having a party. Hanging out with her other friends would be good for her. Also, he was looking forward to being out with her and meeting her friends. He had never met any of them, except Henry.

At the thought of Henry, Sherlock smiled. He would get to rub it in the little brat's face that Sherlock had her, and that he had missed out. Nothing would bring him greater joy.

"What are you supposed to wear to a grad party?"

"What you have on is fine." Emma answered, flipping through a magazine.

"I'm wearing sweatpants." Sherlock deadpanned.

Emmaline rolled her eyes. "Sherlock, these are eighteen and nineteen year olds. They do not care how you dress."

"Do you want to introduce your boyfriend as a slob?" He asked seriously.

Emma considered for a moment. "Well, no." She answered finally. "Just wear what you normally wear; that will look fine."

"Alright." Sherlock agreed.

Emma smiled; the way Sherlock normally dressed was how someone going to work at a high-end office would dress. Button-down shirts and black jackets were all he wore now. When she had first met him that was an occasional occurrence. Back then, he had worn jeans and button-downs, or jeans and long sleeve shirts. Occasionally she would find a plaid shirt in the back of his closet and make him wear it, for fun.

It seemed that he had matured in the last two years, and his wardrobe had with him.

"What should I wear?" Emma asked, inviting Sherlock to sit next to her.

"Are you really asking me that question?" Sherlock asked.

"No." Emma smiled and pressed her lips against his chastely.

"Good; I would have no idea." He said honestly, pressing his mouth more firmly against hers.

"I have to go get ready." She kissed him one more time, standing from the couch.

His arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her back down onto the couch, practically in his lap.

"One more kiss." He told her.

She reached up to press her hand against the back of his head, melding her lips with his.

"One more?" He asked, whispering it against her mouth.

"How many do you need?" She asked, obliging.

"I cannot have just one." He replied, kissing her again, more firmly.

Emma sighed, feeling herself sink into his grip.

"As nice as this is, I really do have to get ready." She said between fervent kisses.

"Alright." Sherlock flicked his tongue against her closed lips before releasing his hold on her waist.

"That is so not fair." She said, getting up. His teasing kiss had made her want more, and he knew it.

Sherlock smiled. "I don't play fair."

Emmaline stood there a moment, indecision playing across her mind, before she shook her head and turned on her heel.

"I have a party to get ready for." She said firmly.

Sherlock laughed from his spot on the couch. He stood up and stretched, thankful that his sweatpants were loose, before walking into the bedroom to retrieve his clothes.

ᶓ

"Her parents really went all out." Emma said as they pulled up to Bianca's house.

Bianca lived in a two-story house on the edge of Westminster, with a large green lawn and a wrought iron fence surrounding the property. Red and green strobe lights sat at intervals along the gravel drive, welcoming guests to the party. From the drive, Emmaline and Sherlock could hear loud, raucous music being played.

Streamers hung from the front door, welcoming new entrants to the party. Emma brushed them to the side as Sherlock led her into the noisy house. Inside, the lights were dimmed and some bulbs had been replaced to create a cool blue light, shadowing the dancers.

The front room occupied a large DJ and people were dancing wherever they pleased to the music he played. In the kitchen, snacks were being served as well as champagne to celebrate the recent secondary school graduate. Sherlock said no to the offer of alcohol, and so did Emmaline. It was part of his 'recovering addict' program that he not accept any addictive substances, one of which was alcohol.

Further into the house, they found a pool table that some people were standing around, watching the current game. There were other people sitting on a large leather sofa, chatting about University plans; one of these people was Bianca, and she waved Emmaline over.

"Emma!" Bianca ran over and threw her arms around the slighter girl.

"Bianca, this party is great!"

"Thanks! My parents put it all together, they are so proud I graduated!"

"Where are you going to University?" Emma asked.

"Oh I'm not – straight off to work as an intern. I am not cut out for college. How about you?"

"I got accepted to Cambridge, and I just accepted their offer the other day."

"Good for you!" Bianca hugged Emmaline again. "And who is this?" She asked, her eyes for the first time turning to see Sherlock.

The time the two young women had spent conversing, Sherlock had stood there silently awkward, waiting for Emmaline to introduce him. The idea of being back in a setting with younger people was putting Sherlock off his game. It felt too much like a University party to him, and he half expected to turn around and see Bradley pointing and laughing him.

"This is the boyfriend I was telling you about on the phone – this is Sherlock, and Sherlock this is Bianca." Emma introduced them.

"Pleasure." Sherlock said in what he hoped was a genuine manner, leaning forward to kiss her once on each cheek.

"Pleasure's all mine; honestly, Emma moped about forever after Henry left her. Me and the other girls thought she would never find somebody else, she was so miserable." Bianca said brightly.

This was new information to Sherlock; as far as he was aware, Emmaline had gotten over Henry quite quickly.

"How old are you? Are you a University student?"

Sherlock looked at Emmaline; he was not sure if she wanted him to disclose his real age or not. He did not want to do anything to embarrass her or cause her trouble. She gave a smile small and answered Bianca's question.

"Sherlock is twenty-six."

Bianca's jaw dropped. "Twenty-six?" She leaned in closer to Emmaline. "But that's so old!" She whispered loudly.

Sherlock shuffled his feet and looked down. Of course, he knew it was old, and he felt awful about it, but he loved her, and there was nothing he could do about their ages. Emmaline had said that it did not matter how old he was, she still wanted to be with him. He took that confidence and held to it, every time he thought that this was maybe slightly wrong.

"It is only eight years Bianca – and he is my boyfriend, not yours; it's really not any concern of yours." Emma shrugged.

Bianca stared at her friend for a few seconds before the dumbstruck expression left her face.

"Well, come meet Emma's other friends." Bianca showed them over to the couch where two other girls were sitting.

Sherlock was introduced to them as Emmaline's much older boyfriend, and invited to stay and chat with them.

"No thanks; there is an open sofa over there I think we will sit at." Emma declined their offer and led Sherlock over to another empty sofa. "I am really sorry about that – girls can be mean."

"Trust me, I know." Sherlock told her.

"I know." Emma threw a leg over his, resting her head on his shoulder.

"So, do you want to know some of your friends dirty little secrets?" Sherlock asked, his eyes trailing someone walking across the room.

"What? Can you ever not turn off your brain?"

"No. That boy right there is secretly engaged." He said pointing to a boy standing by the pool table.

"How do you know?" Emma asked, disbelieving.

"His girlfriend, whose hand he is holding, has a tan line around her left ring finger, indicating that she probably went on a recent vacation with friends and wore it; now that she's back in London, she has to take it off to keep it from her family, but a ring was there maybe two days ago."

"You are just so smart." Emma complimented.

Sherlock smiled and bristled with pride. He never got tired of showing off how intelligent he was, and he knew that Emmaline had no shortage of praise when he did so.

Over the next hour, people came and went through the party, Sherlock and Emmaline sat on their couch, talking, and occasionally Sherlock would tell her something interesting about someone she went to school with.

Emmaline stretched her legs out in front of her, trying to wake up her tired limbs. When she looked up from the floor, she saw Henry and Amelia walking over to the pool table.

"When did they get here?" She asked Sherlock.

"Roughly the same time I was distracting you with my interesting speech about the differences between ladies perfumes."

"Fifteen minutes ago?" Emma clarified.

"About, yes. Does it matter?"

"No, I was just wondering. Stacy had not told me he was invited."

"Well if it does not matter, then who cares?" Sherlock questioned.

"Sherlock, I am not upset that he is here, calm down." Emma smiled. "Are you jealous?"

The corners of Sherlock's lips tugged up into the beginnings of a smile. "Maybe a little."

"Well you have nothing to be jealous of; I am done with him. Besides, I have found someone much better."

"Oh, who?" Sherlock asked playfully.

Emmaline giggled and leaned in to him, kissing the edge of his jaw. "He is pretty smart, but can be pretty dumb too. Tall, handsome – he has strong features. And his hair curls in this odd sort of way – kind of like yours."

"Dumb?" Sherlock inquired a bemused smirk on his face.

"You did not know that the Earth goes around the Sun."

"It is not important to my work." He said quietly, running his fingers through Emmaline's straight brown hair.

"No, but it is basic science. Honestly, what if you have to solve a case involving astronomy someday?"

"Nope, never will." Sherlock answered confidently.

"Mhm, right." Emma said, not convinced.

She gave Sherlock a quick peck on the lips and he smiled.

"Is that all?" He asked.

"You have an insatiable appetite for kisses today." She said laughing, giving him another quick kiss.

"What can I say? My girlfriend is a great kisser."

Sherlock melded his mouth with hers, causing her to groan and grab a fistful of his hair.

"You called me your girlfriend." She said, breaking away for air.

"You called me your boyfriend." He reminded her.

"Yeah but not to your face."

"It is still nice – hearing it."

Emma smiled. "It makes it sound all official."

"Did we never officially make it official?" He asked seriously.

"No I don't think so." Emma told him.

"Well then, gotta fix that. Will you, Emmaline Johnson, be my girlfriend?" He whispered in her ear, tickling it.

"Yes." She giggled and pressed her lips to his again.

"When do you want to go home?" He asked in between more kisses.

"Soon – I am not having any fun." Emma said.

"This is not fun?" He asked, drawing her up against him on the couch.

"This is, but the party – not so much."

"Alright, let's go then."

Sherlock got up from the couch, and after saying goodbye to their host, they left the party.

"I'm sorry you did not have a lot of fun." Emmaline said, walking through the door of their flat.

"On the contrary, I did have fun. Just maybe not the kind that you would have thought."

Emma rolled her eyes. "It's your turn for the bed tonight, so I am just going to change into my pajamas."

"Alright." Sherlock took off his coat and hung it up while Emmaline shut his bedroom door.

Tonight she had introduced him to some of her school friends, and they had accepted him. Maybe not as readily or as fully as she had hoped, but they had not made fun of him, and that was a step.

As she changed into her pajamas and thought about the party, she realized that the whole time had been spent talking to and kissing Sherlock. They could have stayed home to do that. However, Emmaline had realized one thing – the more time they spent with each other like this, the more comfortable she became around him.

The same electric feeling had still hit her, the same fire had still stoked her belly, but this time Emmaline had welcomed it. She had even wished for it to go a little further, if they had not been in public. As she finished getting changed and walked out to the couch, she spied Sherlock in the kitchen putting away dishes. As she admired his physique and thought of the few times they had started to get truly intimate, her toes curled in pleasure.

Emmaline smiled as she snuggled down onto the couch. Sherlock would not have to wait much longer – she was ready.

A/N: So, just a warning, I will give another day to vote in the POLL on the author's page, and the results from that POLL will constitute whether that chapter is included in this book, or as a companion one-shot.