So much fluff! It has been a joy to write, but this story is drawing to a close. There is only the epilogue to go, and then of course the fourth installment in the series, which was published last Christmas. All recognisable content belongs to its respective owners.

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One week. Only one week to go, John found himself thinking. Violet Holmes seemed to have absorbed most of the wedding planning, leaving John mostly with the task of keeping Sherlock from blowing anything important up, and that, that he could do. Usually, at any rate. He found himself grinning at that thought.

He was lying on his back on a blanket out in the orchyards, his fingers threading slowly through the hair of his at the moment fairly well-behaved, private genius, who was resting his head on John's chest, watching with great rapture the few bees that had made their way out here to pollinate the flowers. The doctor had absolutely no doubt that he would be finding himself dragged along to look at more bees later on.

They had been here for a few days already, and there had indeed been a whole lot of bee-watching already. It made Sherlock very happy though, and John couldn't say that he minded. In fact, he found the small creatures rather fascinating. Nowhere near as fascinating as Sherlock obviously found them, of course, but enough for him to rather enjoy being dragged around to different beehives every day. It must be something running in the family, that obsession of Sherlock's, because there was a seemingly neverending amount of them scattered in all sorts of parts of the Holmes estate. They were all well managed, as well, it was clearly a priority to keep them maintained.

Smiling for himself, finding that extreme enthusiasm more than a little adorable in his best friend, John closed his eyes for a few moments, just to feel the warmth of the sun even more keenly.

Sherlock was, for once in his life, not really thinking much, lying sprawled across John, letting his very own Doctor, though he did not have a blue box, thread his fingers through his hair calmingly and humm, only so slightly off-key.

"Sherlock?" "M-hmm?" The doctor sat up slightly to be able to see his fiance's face. "Are you alright?" There was a pause, then the detective moved, locking on John's face and deducing him rapidly, before flapping back down somewhat in a huff.

John smiled at this response. "Is that a yes?" "I am very happy that you agreed to marry me and am not, nor will I ever, regret that I asked you to" the genius cut through the chase, as usual. "I wish we could marry without all this fussing from my mother, though".

John merely smiled going back to threading his fingers through the dark hair of his fiance, just assuming the topic closed when Sherlock suddenly admitted "I find Mrs Hudson's fussing much less irritating". It was all John could do to hold back laughter at such an admission.

"I don't know what we'd do without Mrs Hudson" he admitted instead, lightly scratching Sherlock's scalp as he talked. The consulting detective closed his eyes at that, and gave a small sigh, barely audible. "As I once said, 'Mrs Hudson, leave Baker Street? England would fall!' I am still right" he added the last four words a second after the rest, head tilted into John's hand, opening his eyes again to look at his soon-to-be husband. Chuckling, John assured him "I do not doubt it".

"Does this make you happy, though?" Sherlock asked after a moment, making John look down on him again. The consulting detective might look fairly undisturbed to someone who did not know his very well, but John could read the slight worry in his eyes as easily as Sherlock could read... well, just about anything about him.

"Very" John assured him simply, moving his hand to caress those sharp cheekbones, but Sherlock did not let himself get distracted. It was true. He barely even had any wedding nerves: he only looked forward to it. "I do not mind your mother, either. I think she has done this very well. Better than I could have. I am grateful she takes care of it, actually, and I am thrilled to get married to you, Sherlock. He was rewarded with an honest grin, before the former pirate-to-be added "you know, John, how I'd be lost without my Blogger!"