Greg, Emma and Sally are sat at work finishing up their report when Greg gets a text.
Sherlock: Help, come quick. help me. please.
The three of them shoot from their desks, Greg shouting as he leaves the department.
Greg: I NEED BACK UP! MAXIMUM BACK UP AT BAKERS ST NOW!
221B BAKER STREET.
Greg and Emma race up the stairs and into the living room.
Greg (breathlessly): What's going on? Is the baby okay? (Sherlock is sitting at the dining table looking at his laptop. The fingers of both his hands are pressed into his temples.) Emma rushes into the bedroom where Christopher is.
Sherlock: This is hard.
Greg: What?
Sherlock: Really hard. Hardest thing I've ever had to do. (Lowering his hands, he picks up a book and holds it up to show Greg. The book is called "How to write an unforgettable best man speech".) Have you any funny stories about John? (Greg stares at him in disbelief. Outside, police cars are sirening their way into Baker Street and screeching to a halt.)
Greg: What?! (Putting the book down, Sherlock looks up at him.)
Sherlock: I need anecdotes. (He seems to notice Greg's expression.) Didn't go to any trouble, did you? (Greg stares at him, still breathing heavily. Outside, an ambulance is sirening its way up the road, and a helicopter can be heard approaching. Sherlock's eyes shift sideways as he becomes aware of the noise outside, and the curtains in the open window behind him billow inwards as the helicopter hovers lower. Sherlock looks round as the billowing curtains knock some sheet music off its stand. Greg closes his eyes in exasperation.
Emma: WILLIAM SHERLOCK SCOTT HOLMES! ( Sherlock and Greg wince at the shout coming from the other room)
Sherlock: Oops
At 221B Baker Street, the violin playing can be heard, playing a gentle waltz.
Emma comes out of 221A carrying a tray of tea things that Mrs Hudson had prepared for her. She stops, smiling with delight at the sound of the music, then goes up the stairs. The living room door is closed and she stops outside for a moment, then opens the door. Inside, Sherlock isn't playing his violin as she believed. Instead, wearing a camel coloured dressing gown over his clothes, he is waltzing around the room on his own, holding an imaginary partner as he dances in time to the music. He glances over his shoulder as his girlfriend walks in.
Sherlock: Shut up, Emma.
Emma: I haven't said a word.
Sherlock (sighing as he continues to waltz): You're formulating a question. It's physically painful watching you thinking.
Emma: Rude.(He stops dancing.) I thought it was you playing.
Sherlock: It was me playing.
Emma: I know.(He picks up a remote control, switches off the music player and bends down to make a notation on the sheet music lying on the table.)
Sherlock: I am composing.
Emma: Again, i know (putting her tray onto the table beside John's chair): but You were dancing.
Sherlock: I was road-testing.
Emma: You what?
Sherlock (throwing down his pen and turning to her): Why are you here?
Emma raised her eyebrow at him, putting her hands on her hips.
Emma: Hey, no need to get snippy with me.
Sherlock sighed and stood up, taking her into his arms and resting his head on her shoulder.
Sherlock: I know. I'm sorry.
Emma: You're going to do fine my love.
Sherlock: I wish you would be sat next to me.
Emma: So do I, but only those in the bridal party sit at the top table. Don't worry, Everyone else will be there. Greg will help me with Chris if need be.
Sherlock: But i should be the one helping, I'm his father.
Emma gently lists his head up.
Emma: It's just during dinner. It will be fine i promise.
They hear Mrs Hudson walk in the kitchen door.
MRS HUDSON (excitedly): So – it's the big day, then!
Sherlock (taking a sip of tea): What big day?
Emma rolls her eyes.
MRS HUDSON: The wedding! John and Mary getting married!
Sherlock: Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together. What's big about that?
He doesn't miss Emma's sad expression when he says that.
MRS HUDSON: It changes people, marriage.
Sherlock: Mmm, no it doesn't.
MRS HUDSON: Well, you wouldn't understand 'cause you always live alone. (Sherlock sits and lifts his teacup to his mouth but stops momentarily.)
Sherlock: Your husband was executed for double murder. You're hardly an advert for companionship. (He drinks.)
MRS HUDSON: Marriage changes you as a person, in ways that you can't imagine.
Sherlock: As does lethal injection. (He smiles pointedly at her.)
MRS HUDSON: My best friend, Margaret – she was my chief bridesmaid. (Putting his cup down on the table beside him, Sherlock rolls his eyes.) We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that.
Sherlock (standing up): Aren't there usually biscuits?
MRS HUDSON: I've run out.
Sherlock: Have the shops? (He pointedly walks towards the door.)
MRS HUDSON: She cried the whole day, saying, "Ooh, it's the end of an era."
Sherlock (gesturing towards the stairs): I'm sure the shop on the corner is open.
MRS HUDSON: She was probably right, really. (Sherlock closes his eyes and grimaces.)I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early? (She shakes her head.) So sad.
Sherlock: Mmm. Anyway, you've got things to do.
MRS HUDSON: No, not really. I've got plenty of time to ...
Sherlock (sternly): Biscuits. (She gets out of her chair, tutting.)
MRS HUDSON (walking towards the door): I really am going to have a word with your mother.
Sherlock: You can if you like. She understands very little. (He closes the door on her, then turns around sighing. He looks towards John's chair for a few moments, then walks through the kitchen and down the hallway.) (taking off his dressing gown): Right, then. (He walks through his bedroom to his wardrobe, where a morning suit is hanging from the open door. He looks at it.) Into battle.
He walks out of the bedroom a while later and into the lounge, Greg is there holding the baby bag, dressed in a suit. He also has Christopher's car seat in his hand. Sherlock turns towards the door and freezes, His breath caught and he stares.
Emma stood in the doorway with a simple Blue dress, it had white lace on the front across her breasts and stomach and it clung to all the curves having a baby had given her. Despite her earlier reservations she had managed to lose the weight and tone up again. Though Chris no longer had breast milk, having formula instead, Emma's breasts had not shrunk in size, taking her up a full 2 sizes since pre pregnancy. Her long legs were emphasized by the short hem of the dress and the simple white sandals she wore, Her hair was tied in an elegant up do with curls framing her face. Christopher was in Emma's arms and was happily giggling as she tickled his tummy with her long fingers. Sherlocks House crest still glinting on her left hand. His curly hair bouncing in joy as he squirmed away from her. He was dressed in simple grey suit trousers with a tiny white shirt and black jacket, looking as if a miniature of his father.
Emma smiled over at Sherlock as Christopher noticed him, reaching his arms up for his dad to take him. Grinning at his son, Sherlock lifted him out of her arms and into the air where he giggled wildly. Bringing him down into his arms he spoke gently to him.
Sherlock: Now you be a good little boy for Mummy okay and Daddy will see you in a little while.
Christopher: Gah!
Sherlock: Yes Gah. (turning to Emma he kissed her cheek) You look beautiful Em.
Emma placed her hands on his chest ad kissed him.
Sherlock: You're looking pretty dapper yourself Mr Holmes.
Not wanting to disrupt the family moment but watching the clock Greg spoke up.
Greg: Right then, Shall we be off?
Sherlock gave Chris a squeeze and a kiss and passed him back to his mother, kissing her as well.
Emma: See you in a while my love.
Church bells peal and the doors to a church open. John and Mary, newly married, walk out followed by Sherlock and the chief bridesmaid, whose name is Janine, then two more bridesmaids and the vicar. A photographer is waiting outside.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Congratulations! Okay, hold it there – I wanna get this shot of the newlyweds. (John and Mary stop and the bridesmaids stand behind them. Sherlock steps to Mary's side.) Er, just the bride and groom, please. (Sherlock doesn't move. John looks round at him.)
John: Sherlock?
Sherlock: Oh, sorry. (He walks out of shot.)
PHOTOGRAPHER: Okay – three, two, one, cheese! (The bridesmaids throw handfuls of confetti into the air and the photographer starts taking pictures. The rest of the congregation come out and the photo-taking continues, including one of John, Sherlock and Greg standing side by side, with a young pageboy – about eight years old – standing in front of them wearing either John's or Sherlock's top hat. Later, the photographer takes a picture of Sherlock and Janine. Nearby, Molly stands with her fiancé Tom. She is gazing at Sherlock but she isn't the only one. Emma stands next to Greg who was holding a sleeping Christopher to his shoulder, Emma bites her lip anxiously. After the photographer has finished with them, Janine looks round at Sherlock.)
Janine: The famous Mr Holmes! I'm very pleased to meet you. But no sеx, okay?
Sherlock (startled): Um, sorry?
Janine (laughing): You don't have to look so scared. I'm only messing. Bridesmaid, best man ... It's a bit traditional. (She gently punches his arm. He looks down with distaste.)
Sherlock: Is it?
Janine (a little awkwardly): But not obligatory(!)
Sherlock: Good because i am well and truly taken, If that's the sort of thing you're looking for ... (he jerks his head towards one of the wedding guests) ... the man over there in blue is your best bet. Recently divorced doctor with a ginger cat ... a barn conversion ... ... and a history of erectile dysfunction. Reviewing that information, possibly not your best bet.
Janine: Yeah, maybe not.
Sherlock (looking puzzled): Sorry – there was one more deduction there than I was expecting.
Janine: Mr Holmes ... (she takes his arm) ... you're going to be incredibly useful.
(Again Sherlock looks down at her hand. He frowns.)He sees Emma watching him, biting her lip.
Sherlock: Excuse me.
He walks over to his girlfriend and takes his son from his friend. Putting his arm round Emma's waist he walks them towards the car. Only Emma noticing Janine is still watching.
Later, John and Mary, with Sherlock at John's side, are standing outside the venue for the reception, greeting the guests.
Mary (shaking a man's hand): Hello. Lovely to meet you. (She then kisses a woman. The woman moves on to kiss John, and another man moves in to kiss Mary.) How are you?
MAN: You look beautiful, Mary.
Mary: Thank you!
MAN: Congratulations. (More guests move past the three of them, then a man wearing a lurid purple tie comes forward. Mary looks at him with delight.)
Mary: David! (She reaches out her arms ready to hug him. He leans away, laughing nervously, and just clasps her arms briefly.)
DAVID: Mary. Congratulations. You look, um, very nice. (He quickly moves away from her. Mary looks puzzled. He shakes John's hand.) John, congratulations. You're a lucky man.
John: Thank you. MARY: Um, er, David, this is Sherlock. (Sherlock smiles at him, tight-lipped.)
DAVID: Um, yeah. We've, um, we've met. (He looks down nervously.) David makes a couple of anxious noises, waves briefly to Mary and goes indoors. John looks round at Sherlock with a curious expression but Sherlock raises his head and looks inscrutable. The next guest approaches.
Mary: Hello! (The greetings continue. A woman in a black and white dress approaches and kisses Mary.) Pleased to see you. (The woman moves on to kiss and hug John.)
WOMAN: Congratulations.
John: Thanks for coming, thank you. (The young pageboy is standing a few paces away. Mary smiles down at him but the boy runs straight to Sherlock and wraps his arms around him, smiling happily. Sherlock looks awkwardly down at him.)
Sherlock: Mm, yes, um, well done in the service, Archie. (The woman in the black and white dress, obviously Archie's mother, smiles at them.)
MUM: He's really come out of his shell. I don't know how you did it. He said you had some pictures for him, as a treat.
Sherlock: Er, yes ... (he pats Archie's head) ... if he's good.
Archie (turning to look at his mum): Beheadings.
Sherlock (quickly): Lovely little village. (He unwraps Archie from around him and gently pushes him towards the entrance.)
MUM: Hmm? (She looks down at Archie as they go inside.) What did you say?
INSIDE. Molly is canoodling with Tom, repeatedly kissing his cheek. Tom indicates that the photographer is approaching them, and she turns and smiles into the camera as he takes some pictures.
PHOTOGRAPHER: Nice. (He moves on to the next nearest couple, who are Mrs Hudson and what must surely be Mr Chatterjee from the sandwich shop. She smiles happily for the camera; Mr Chatterjee doesn't look quite so happy to be there. The photographer turns and snaps several pictures of Greg sitting at a table and drinking. Greg raises his glass to him before Sally sits down on his lap and kisses his cheek.. John and Mary are standing nearby. John indicates as a waiter approaches with a plate of canapés.)
John: Oh, d'you want ...?
Mary (taking one from the plate): I'm starving.
John (declining the waiter's offer of the plate): Thanks.
Mary: Had to lose so much weight to get into this dress. (John chuckles. Sherlock and Janine are standing together a short distance away. Janine looks admiringly at the waiter as he walks past.)
JANINE: He's nice. (Sherlock sniffs deeply.)
Sherlock: Traces of two leading brands of deodorant, both advertised for their strength, suggestive of a chronic body odour problem manifesting under stress.
JANINE: Okay, done there. What about his friend? (Sherlock turns to look where she's looking. In the nearby kitchen, another waiter is carefully pulling out the skewer from the middle of a large joint of roast beef.)
Sherlock: Long-term relationship, compulsive cheat.
JANINE: Seriously?
Sherlock: Waterproof cover on his smartphone. Yet his complexion doesn't indicate outdoor work. Suggests he's in the habit of taking his phone into the shower with him, which means he often receives texts and emails he'd rather went unseen.
JANINE: Can I keep you?
Sherlock: D'you like solving crimes?
JANINE: Do you have a vacancy? ( she places her hand on his chest, he looks down confused)
WAHHH
Sherlocks head shoots up, without saying a word he moves away and walks towards Emma who is trying hard to get Chris to stop crying, waiting for his bottle to get to the correct temperature in the pot of boiling water a waiter brought to her. He crouched down next to Emma's chair, putting his hand on the back of his sons head.
Sherlock: Hey little one, what's wrong?
Chris: Gah! ( he says tearfully)
Sherlock: It's coming. Come on, do you want to go for a walk?
Chris holds his arms up and Emma gladly passes him over. Sherlock stands and walks round the room, telling Christopher (age appropriate) deductions about the guests. Janine glares at Emma but she's too busy chatting to Greg, Sally and Molly to notice.
Mary: So, Harry?
John: Er, no. No show.
Mary: Darling, I'm so sorry.
John: It was a bit of a punt asking her, I suppose. Still, free bar – wouldn't have been a good mix. (He looks down, then raises his eyes towards the entrance and looks surprised.)
John: Oh, God, wow! (The scarred uniformed man we saw earlier has just walked in.)
Mary: Oh, G... Is that ...?
John: He came! (As Mary smiles with delight, John walks over to the man and they salute each other. Sherlock walks over to Mary with Christopher in his arms chewing on his fist.)
Sherlock: So that's him. Major Sholto. (His voice sounds disapproving.)
Mary: Uh-huh. (Sherlock narrows his eyes as he looks at the two men.)
Sherlock: If they're such good friends, why does he barely even mention him?
Mary: He mentions him all the time to me. He never shuts up about him.
Sherlock: About him?
Mary: Mm-hmm. (She takes a drink from her wine glass, then grimaces.) Urgh. I chose this wine. It's bloody awful.
Sherlock: Yes, but it's definitely him that he talks about?
Mary: Mm-hmm.
(At the entrance)
John: I'm very, very glad to see you, sir. I know you don't really do this sort of thing.
SHOLTO: Well, I do for old friends, Watson ... John. It's good to see you.
John: You too. (Sholto nods, then looks around the room.)
SHOLTO: Civilian life suiting you, then?
John: Er, er, yes, well ... (he gestures towards Mary) ... I think so, sir.
SHOLTO: No more need for the trick cyclist?
John: No, I-I go now and then. Sort of a top-up. (Sholto nods.) Therapy can be very helpful. (Sholto looks away.) Where are you living these days?
SHOLTO: Oh, way out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't know it. (Back at Sherlock and Mary)
Sherlock: I've never even heard him say his name.
Mary: Well, he's almost a recluse – you know, since ...
Sherlock: Yes.
Mary: I didn't think he'd show up at all. John says he's the most unsociable man he's ever met
Sherlock: He is? He's the most unsociable?
Mary: Mm.
Sherlock: Ah, that's why he's bouncing round him like a puppy. (Mary grins and hugs his arm.)
Mary: Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know. (He looks round at her.)
Sherlock: Stop smiling.
Mary: It's my wedding day! (Mary tickles Christopher's tummy and he giggles. Rolling his eyes, Sherlock pulls free and walks away. back towards Emma. Mary takes another drink from her wine glass, then pulls a face.)
Sherlock sits next to Emma who turns and smiles at him.
Sherlock: One hungry little boy ready for his bottle.
He held his hand out as he comfortably arranges Chris in his left arm, passing it to the little boy who clamped his hands round it and started sucking greedily. Emma leant towards him and whispered in Sherlock's ear.
Emma: You're looking mighty domestic there Mr Holmes.
Sherlock chuckled and intertwined their fingers.
Sherlock: Only for you Mrs Hol... ( he shakes his head) Miss Taylor.
Emma looks at him, confusion written on her face. He leans forward and kisses her until the confusion is gone and she smiles at him. She stands up and loops her arms round his neck, whispering again in his ear.
Emma: It turns me on seeing you like this Sherlock.
Sherlock leans backwards and motions her closer with his finger, once she's leaned down he whispers.
Sherlock: And I just want to get you out of that dress my darling.
She blushes and gives him a long tender kiss.
Emma: I love you.
Sherlock: I love you too. Both of you. Always.
Emma kisses him again upside down.
Emma: Always... i think i needed to hear that today.
Sherlock looks confused.
Sherlock: Why? I'm happy to say it but why today in particular?
Emma stands straight.
Emma: No reason... i need the loo, are you okay with him for a few minutes?
Without waiting for an answer she walks away towards the doors to the corridor. Sherlock frowned. Looking round at Sally, who was sat opposite he asked.
Sherlock: What's the matter with her? Did i do something?
Sally shakes her head exasperatedly. She looks at him sadly.
Sally: If you don't know Sherlock i can't tell you.
She gets up and follows Emma. Sherlock sits there a while, trying to understand the cryptic comments from both woman. He watches Christopher's eyes close slowly as he drinks his milk. He then takes his phone out of his pocket and calls his brother.
Mycroft (breathlessly): Yes, what, Sherlock?
Sherlock (walking through the reception room as he talks into his phone): Why are you out of breath?
Mycroft: Filing.
Sherlock: Either I've caught you in a compromising position or you've been working out again. I favour the latter.
Mycroft: What do you want?
Sherlock: I need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency.
Mycroft: "Answer"?
Sherlock: Even at the eleventh hour it's not too late, you know.
Mycroft (sighing): Oh, Lord.
Sherlock: Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered.
Mycroft: Today. It's today, isn't it? No, Sherlock, I will not be coming to the "night do", as you so poetically put it.
Sherlock (insincerely): What a shame. Mary and John will be extremely d...
Mycroft: ... delighted not to have me hanging around.
Sherlock: Oh, I don't know. There should always be a spectre at the feast.
Mycroft (picking up a glass of juice from the table): So, this is it, then. The big day. (He sits down in an armchair.) I suppose I'll be seeing a lot more of you from now on.
Sherlock: What do you mean?
Mycroft: Just like old times.
Sherlock: No, I don't understand.
Mycroft: Well, it's the end of an era, isn't it? John and Mary – domestic bliss.
Sherlock: No, no, no – I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter. (Mycroft simply smiles.) What?
Mycroft: Nothing!
Sherlock: I know that silence. What?
Mycroft: Well, I'd better let you get back to it. You have a big speech, or something, don't you?
Sherlock (still demanding an answer to his previous question): What?
Mycroft: Cake, karaoke ... mingling.
Sherlock (angrily): Mycroft!
Mycroft: This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married. I warned you: don't get involved.
Sherlock: Involved? I'm not involved.
Mycroft (disbelievingly): No.
Sherlock: John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no?
Mycroft (insincerely): Absolutely!
Sherlock: I'm not involved!
Mycroft (insincerely): I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best.
Sherlock: I will. (He lowers the phone, about to switch it off when Mycroft speaks again.)
Mycroft: Oh, by the way, Sherlock – do you remember Redbeard? (Sherlock's jaw tightens.)
Sherlock: I'm not a child any more, Mycroft.
Mycroft: No, of course you're not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock.
(Sherlock hangs up. He looks down for a moment at Christopher who is fully asleep now. Pulling the bottle away from his mouth and placing it on the table. He moved him to his shoulder and gently patted his back. He was too old for burping now but Sherlock enjoyed having him asleep on his shoulder. Greg walks over and sits next to him, he raises his arms towards Sherlock and he hands over the sleeping boy, knowing he needed to get up. Emma returns and sends him a small smile but he can see her eyes are slightly red, Sally sits next to Greg and glares across the table at Sherlock who then stands and walks across the room towards the top table. Just as he walks away somebody grabs his hand. He looks back at Emma who suddenly lets go, looking unsure of herself) He turns back, leans down towards her and kisses her tenderly.
Sherlock: I'm yours. Always. ( she smiles as he walks away)
After the meal, which Christopher enjoyed chomping on different textures Sherlock looks around.
MASTER OF CEREMONIES: Pray silence for the best man.
(The guests applaud and cheer as Sherlock rises to his feet at the top table. John and Mary are sitting to his right; Janine to his left. He buttons his jacket, looking a little uncomfortable.)
Sherlock: Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others. (He stops and blinks. There's an awkward pause.) Er ... w... (John narrows his eyes and looks up at him.) A-a-also ... (Mary lifts a thumb to her mouth, rubbing it on her top lip. Mrs Hudson looks nervous and Greg sits back a little, looking concerned. Emma stares at him, Sherlock stares back. She mouth 'I love you'. He takes a deep breathe.)
John closes his eyes in realisation.
John (quietly): Telegrams. (Mary looks at him and Sherlock jolts out of his blankness.)
Sherlock: Right, um ... (He pats his pockets, then seems to realise that the telegrams are in a pile in front of him. John clears his throat. Sherlock does likewise and looks at the guests, swallowing thickly) First things first. Telegrams. (He picks them up and shows them to the guests.) (quick-fire): Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don't know why. Wedding tradition. (He lifts the first card.) (sarcastically): ... because we don't have enough of that already, apparently. (John narrows his eyes a little.) (reading): "To Mr and Mrs Watson. So sorry I'm unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford."
John: Ah, Mike. MARY: Ahh!
Sherlock (reading the next card): "To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big ... (he breaks off, then continues slowly) ... big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted." (He looks up, blinking rapidly. Greg sniggers and Molly gides her smile before her hand, he gives her a mock glare) (reading the next card): "Mary – lots of love, ..." (He breathes out an almost silent, 'Oh'. John and Mary look up at him.)
John: Yeah?
Sherlock (disparagingly): "... poppet ..." (He loudly sounds the 't' at the end of the word. John and Mary giggle.) : "... Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM." (Mary's smile fades. Sherlock continues reading the message.) : "Wish your family could have seen this." (John looks round and sees Mary's face. He reaches out and takes her hand.)
John: Hey. Hmm? (She smiles reassuringly at him.)
Sherlock (looking at the next card): Um, "special day" ... (he drops the card onto the table and looks at the next one) ... "very special day" ... (he drops that one, then continues working rapidly through the next ones) ... "love" ... "love" ... "love" ... "love" ... "lo..."; bit of a theme – you get the gist. People are basically fond. (There's some laughter from the guests.) (looking at them): John Watson. (He gestures towards John.) My friend, John Watson. (He looks down for a moment, then looks at John.) John. (John smiles at him. Sherlock turns to his audience again.) When John first broached the subject of being best man, I was confused.
Sherlock: I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was – for me – as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated. Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he'd placed in me ... (John frowns as if unable to remember this conversation.) ... and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being ... moved by it. It later transpired that I had said none of this out loud. (John laughs, and some of the guests join in.)
Sherlock reaches into his jacket pocket, clearing his throat, and takes out a handful of cue cards, looking at each one and putting it onto the table as he talks to himself. Done that. ... Done that ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Hmm ... (He looks up at the guests again, then turns to John.) I'm afraid, John, I can't congratulate you. (Mary looks surprised and John looks up at him.) (looking at the guests): All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world. (The guests begin to look uncomfortable. Some of them start murmuring quietly to each other. Greg and Molly look at Sherlock in horror. Emma looks away sadly, holding her son close) Today we honour the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time – one feels certain – our entire species. (The guests stare at him. Sherlock pauses for a moment.) But anyway ... (he looks down at his cards) ... let's talk about John.
John (quietly): Please.
Sherlock (looking up again): If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice – it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me. (Greg laughs silently.) Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides. (John sighs heavily, while Mary frowns.) It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favour exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel. (Janine stares up at him and the other two bridesmaids look uncomfortable.) (moving on to his next card): ... and contrast is, after all, God's own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation ... (The vicar smiles.)
SHERLOCK: ... or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot. (Mary face-palms and John is half-hiding behind his clasped hands. The vicar looks at Sherlock grimly, and more guests are muttering amongst themselves. Sherlock pauses for a moment.) the point i am trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. (He looks at the vicar.): I am dismissive of the virtuous ... (He turns to Janine.) : ... unaware of the beautiful ... (He turns towards Emma and Christopher.) : ... and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn't understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody's best friend. (The guests have fallen silent again and are listening intently. Molly and Greg exchange a long glance.) : Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest man I have ever had the good fortune of knowing. (Mary smiles proudly at her husband. Several of the guests make appreciative "aww" sounds.) : John, I am a ridiculous man ... (John smiles and nods his agreement.) ... redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I'm apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion. (He looks down for a moment, then smiles a little.) Actually, now I can. (The guests murmur again, but now their tone is much more approving. John and Mary smile.) Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury, and tragic loss ... (he leans closer to John) ... so sorry again about that last one ... (he straightens up again) ... so know this: today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved – in short, the two people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that.
(Mrs Hudson whimpers and holds a tissue to her nose. Molly wipes tears from her eyes with her serviette. Emma cries quietly into her sons curly black hair, Other guests – even some of the men – sniffle. John turns to Mary and whispers to her.)
John: If I try and hug him, stop me.
Mary: Certainly not. (She pats his arm. Sherlock moves on to his next card.)
Sherlock: Ah, yes. Now on to some funny stories about John ... (He trails off as he looks up and sees so many of the guests crying.) (quick-fire): What's wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John? (Molly smiles proudly at him.)
MRS HUDSON (tearfully): Oh, Sherlock! (Sherlock looks down at John.)
Sherlock: Did I do it wrong?
John (standing up): No, you didn't. Come here. (He pulls him into a tight hug. The guests break into applause. John pulls back)
Sherlock looks up at Emma to see if she can explain what is going on but is alarmed to see her crying into their son. He chucks the cards on teh table and jumps over it, strolling swiftly over to her, He takes hold of her cheeks and guides her head towards him.
Sherlock: Whats wrong? Are you okay? Is Chris okay? ( his eyes rapidly scan over both of them.)
Emma chuckles and pats his hand which is stroking her cheek softly. I'm okay, and youre just adorable. ( she smirks as he grimaces at the word. He leans down and kisses her softly before hising his sons head. He doesnt hear the multple 'awws' from the guests and doesnt see how tightly Janine holds her fork.) Making his way back to the table and jumping back over he picks up his cards.
Sherlock: sorry about that.(holding up his next card) So, on to some funny stories about John. (John chuckles. Sherlock looks at the guests.): If you could all just cheer up a bit, that would ... (The guests laugh.) ... be better. On we go. So, for funny stories ... (he reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone) ... one has to look no further than John's blog. (He holds up the phone. John laughs.) The record of our time together. Of course, he does tend to romanticise things a bit, but then, you know ... (he looks down at John and Mary and half-winks at them) ... he's a romantic. We've tackled some strange cases: the Hollow Client ...
SHERLOCK: ... the Poison Giant ...
SHERLOCK: We've had some frustrating cases ...
SHERLOCK (rolling his eyes): ... 'touching' cases ...
SHERLOCK: ... and of course I have to mention the elephant in the room.
SHERLOCK: But we want something ... very particular for this special day, don't we? (He looks down at his phone, then raises his eyes again.) SHERLOCK: The Bloody Guardsman.
Sherlock continues on, explaining about the inviable man and the case tey went on during John stag night. After a while he comes to the conclusion that somebody had come to the wedding to murder somebody. Eventually realising it was the Major, he, John and Mary rush off to help him.
Later at the night Do.
An orchestral rendition of the waltz "On The Beautiful Blue Danube" by Johann Strauss II can be heard. In the foyer of the wedding venue, Sherlock and Janine are waltzing, Emma was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock is counting time.
Sherlock: One, two, three; der, der, der ... Ahh, pretty good.
JANINE: Ooh! (They stop dancing.)
Sherlock (releasing her): Just ... hold your nerve on your turning.
Janine (adjusting the top of her strapless bridesmaid's dress): Why do we have to rehearse?
Sherlock (leaning in and speaking confidentially): Because we are about to dance together in public, and your skills are appalling! (He smiles at her and she laughs.)
Janine: Well, you're a good teacher.
Sherlock: Mmm.
Janine: And you're a brilliant dancer.
Sherlock (quietly, leaning towards her ): I'll let you in on something, Janine.
Janine (in a whisper): Go on, then.
Sherlock: I love dancing. I've always loved it.
Janine: Seriously?
Sherlock (quietly): Watch out. (Looking around to make sure that nobody else can see him, he swings both of his arms to the left, takes a sharp breath, rises onto his left foot and does a full-circle pirouette.)
Janine: Ooh! Woah!
Sherlock (clearing his throat): Never really comes up in crime work but, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case.
Janine (sighing wistfully): I wish you weren't ... (He turns and looks at her.): ... whatever it is you are.
Emma: Well i wouldn't change him for the world.
Sherlock turns to find Emma in the doorway, Looking angry.
Sherlock walks over to her and wraps his arm round her waist, she lays her head against his shoulder but doesn't look at him.
Sherlock: Hello, where have you been?
Emma: doesn't answer, just grips his shirt tightly. He frowns.
(John has just walked into view and has spotted them. He walks over.)
John: Well, glad to see you've pulled, Sherlock, what with murderers running riot at my wedding. (He claps his hand on Sherlock's back.)
Sherlock: One murder... – one nearly murderer. (To Janine) Loves to exaggerate. You should try living with him. (The entrance door opens and Greg comes in.)
Greg: Sherlock? (He points back out the door.) Got him for you.
Sherlock (clapping his hands together and moves away from Emma as the wedding photographer walks in): Ah, the photographer. Excellent! (To Greg) Thank you. (He walks over to the photographer and points at the camera he's holding.) : Er, may I have a look at your camera?
PHOTOGRAPHER: Er ... (he pulls his camera back nervously but then holds it out to him) ... what's this about? I was halfway home!
Sherlock (taking the camera): You should have driven faster. (He looks at the screen on the back of the camera and starts flicking through the pictures.) Ah, yes. Yes, very good. There, you see? (He smiles.) Perfect.
Greg: What is? You gonna tell us?
Sherlock (handing the camera to Greg): Try looking yourself.
John (walking to Greg's side): Um, look for what? (Janine also walks over. Emma stays where she waas, her brows furrowed. Sherlock strolls closer to the photographer.) (pointing at the camera): Is the murderer in these photographs?
Sherlock: It's not what's in the photographs; it's what's not in them – not in any of them.
John: Sherlock? The showing-off thing: we've discussed it before.
Emma: 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. (She walks closer to the photographer and looks down towards his hand.) You only ever see ... (Sherlock rapidly slaps one cuff of a pair of handcuffs around the photographer's wrist and the other cuff around the frame of a nearby birdcage luggage trolley.
Emma: ... the camera.
PHOTOGRAPHER: What are you doing? What is this?
Sherlock (holding up his phone to show the screen to the others): 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.
Emma: and rehearsed the murder ...
Sherlock: ... making sure of every last detail. Small looks calmly at Sherlock.)
Emma: Brilliant, ruthless, almost certainly a monomaniac – though, in fairness, his photographs are actually quite good.
Sherlock tosses his phone to Greg.) SHERLOCK: Everything you need's on that. You probably ought to ... arrest him or something.
(Nearby, Mary comes into view, apparently looking for John. She spots him, smiles and hurries towards him. Janine, standing beside Sherlock, leans closer and speaks quietly without looking at him.)
Janine: Do you always carry handcuffs?
Sherlock blanks her and walks over to Emma, taking her hand. He pulls her into a searing kiss, making her blush when he pulls away.
Sherlock: And that my dear, Is why i love you so much.
Emma grins at him, probably one of the most genuine grins she's given in hours.
Emma: Haven't lost my touch then?
Sherlock: Never
She stands on tiptoes and whispers to him.
Emma: Will we ever get those handcuffs back?
Sherlock smirks at her.
Sherlock: Down, girl.
Mary (holding out her hand to John): Come on, quick! (She reaches his side and John puts his arm around her as she turns and sees Small nearby. He is looking at Sherlock fixedly.)
SMALL: It's not me you should be arresting, Mr Holmes.
Sherlock: Oh, I don't do the arresting. (He nods towards Greg.) I just farm that out.
SMALL: Sholto – he's the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker. (He grins manically, then his smile fades and he shakes his head.) I shouldn't have tried to be clever.
Emma: (softly): You should have driven faster. ( Sherlock takes Emma's hand and walks out of the room John and Mary follow them. Greg looks down at Sherlock's phone, then looks at Small.)
Greg: Right ...
In the reception room, the tables have been cleared away. Looking into each other's eyes, Mary and John are dancing a slow waltz in the middle of the room to the sound of a single violin while all the guests stand around the edge of the room and watch them. On a low stage at the end of the room Sherlock is playing his violin. He sways gently as he plays, his eyes fixed on the newlyweds. As the tune draws to an end, John shifts one hand to Mary's back, holds her by the waist with the other and starts to dip her backwards. Mary gasps.
Mary: Really?! (Chuckling, he bends her back as she giggles. He kisses her as the tune ends. The guests break into applause and some of them cheer. Everyone is looking at the happy couple except Janine who directs her applause towards Sherlock. She whoops at him.)
JANINE: Yeah! (She whoops again. Sherlock doesn't pay her any attention, he looks at Emma instead, holding a sleeping Christopher to her shoulder. He then turns to the music stand in front of him. He had taken off his buttonhole flower and put it on the stand so that it wouldn't get in the way while he was playing and now he picks it up, shows her what he's holding and then tosses it across the room towards her. She catches it. John – who has pulled Mary upright again and is laughing happily – waves his thanks to Sherlock, then kisses Mary again as Sherlock steps to the nearby microphone.)
Sherlock: Ladies and gentlemen, just, er, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with. (He draws in a breath.) More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. 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 hesitates momentarily, then stutters.) : Er, I'm sorry, I mean, I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. I've just miscounted. (He takes a sharp breath. John and Mary exchange a slightly worried look.) Anyway, it's time for dancing. (Over his shoulder to the DJ on the stage) Play the music again, please, thank you. (Disco lights begin to flash and Sherlock gestures grandly to the guests as Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons' song "December, 1963 (Oh What A Night)" starts to play.) Okay, everybody, just dance. Don't be shy! (He walks down off the stage, still gesturing to the crowd.) Dancing, please! (The guests start to move onto the floor and begin to dance.) Very good! (He walks over to Mary and John who look quizzically at him.) : Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting.
Mary: "Deduction"?
Sherlock (looking intensely at her): Increased appetite ... (Flashback to Mary taking one of the canapés from the waiter's tray.)
Mary (in flashback): Starving.
Sherlock: ... change of taste perception ... (Flashback to Mary grimacing at her wine glass.) MARY (in flashback): Urgh. I chose this wine. It's bloody awful.
Sherlock: ... 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.
Mary: "The signs"? (Sherlock glances across to John, then turns his eyes back to her.)
Sherlock: The signs of three. (His gaze drops to her abdomen.)
Mary: What?!
Sherlock: Mary, I think you should do a pregnancy test. (John sighs and drops his head, almost bending over double. Mary grins delightedly at Sherlock.) : W... th... the statistics for the first trimester are ...
John (straightening up): Shut up. (Sherlock freezes in the middle of forming his next word. He looks at John as if waiting for permission to continue.) Just ... shut up.
Sherlock: Sorry. (John turns to Mary.)
John (looking annoyed with himself): How did he notice before me? I'm a bloody doctor.
Sherlock: It's your day off.
John: It's your day off!
Sherlock: Stop-stop panicking.
John: I'm not panicking.
Mary: I'm pregnant – I'm panicking.
Sherlock: Don't panic. None of you panic. (The Watsons both look down, their faces full of concern.) Absolutely no reason to panic.
John: Oh, and you'd know, of course?
Both Sherlock and Mary look at him like he is an idiot.
Sherlock: Well Yes, I would actually, anyway. You're already the best parents in the world. Look at all the practice you've had!
John: What practice?
Sherlock: Well, you're hardly gonna need me around now that you've got a real baby on the way. (John stares, then Sherlock smiles happily at him. John laughs and reaches out to cup the back of his neck. Laughing even more, he turns to his wife and puts his other hand on her shoulder as she begins to smile with delight. Sherlock turns his smile towards Mary, but after a moment the smile begins to fade a little.)
John (to Mary): You all right?
Mary (a little breathlessly): Yeah.
Sherlock (abruptly): Dance.
John: Mm?
Sherlock: Both of you, now, go dance. We can't just stand here. People will wonder what we're talking about.
John: Right. (Mary reaches out to touch Sherlock's arm, her voice tearful.)
Mary: And what about you?
John: Well, we can't all three dance. There are limits!
Sherlock: Yes, there are. Besides, I have a beautiful woman over there who has been patiently waiting to dance all day. (John clears his throat. Still looking tearful, Mary turns to John.)
Mary: Come on, husband. Let's go.
John (pointing over his shoulder): This isn't a waltz, is it? (She laughs.)
Sherlock: Don't worry, Mary, I have been tutoring him.
John: He did, you know. Baker Street, behind closed curtains. (Turning to face her, he takes her right hand with his left and puts his other hand on her waist.) Mrs Hudson came in one time. Don't know how those rumours started!
Emma stands by the window, looking out at the stars with Christopher asleep in the pram next to her. Today had been a rollercoaster of emotions. She was happy for the new couple. She felt fear when she realised somebody was going to be attacked and she felt so incredibly jealous the entire day when Sherlock was with Janine. She felt ugly, she felt fat. Surely he could do better than her. Depressing thoughts ran through her mind. Did she trap him by having Christopher? Would he have come home if she hadn't been having his baby?
Sherlock walks up behind Emma and wraps his arms round her waist. Kissing the back of her head.
Sherlock: Emma.
Emma: Hey Lock.
He could practically feel the insecurities and self loathing pouring off her. Spinning her he kept one arm round her waist and held one to his chest. Through the fabric she could feel the St Christopher that she had returned right after Chris was born, and also the small circle pendant she had bought the day she had been put in the bonfire. It was a simple pendant with her fingerprint engraved onto it and Chris's engraved on top, She then had 'Always' carved into the bottom. He loved it and hadn't taken it off since she put it on him.
He stared into her eyes.
Sherlock: I am yours.
Emma looked away and he pulled her back by the chin.
Sherlock: No, i am going to say it every day until you believe me. I am yours and yours only.
Emma: I..
Sherlock: You are feeling jealous and insecure after Janine's multiple advances on me today.
Emma tried to pull away but he held her tighter, she nodded minutely.
Sherlock: you don't need to be.
Emma scoffs.
Sherlock: Really. you are the one i want... which is why i want you to come outside for a walk with me.
Emma: wh..what?
Sherlock took hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers. walking them away towards Sally who was a table down he said.
Sherlock: Sally?
Sally: Yeah?
Sherlock: Would you mind watching Christopher? There is something i need to do..
Sally watched him a moment before she replied.
Sally: Of course. Tell you what, let me take him home to ours tonight ( As she now lived with Greg) I feel like i haven't seen him in weeks. I could take him out for breakfast and bring him home about lunch time.
Emma: Are you sure Sal? You don't have to.
Sally: I'm sure, you two go spend some time together. You haven't had one night alone since you fell pregnant.
Emma/Sherlock: Thank you.
Sherlock let go of Emma's hand to retrieve his sons pram. They both gave him a light kiss on his head and then Sherlock proceeded to pull Emma outside of the venue.
As they walked through the beautiful gardens they stayed silent, listening to the music coming from the party.
Emma: Lock? Where are you taking me?
Sherlock: It's just a short way away.
She shook her head and smiled, letting him pull her down a set of stairs at the end of the garden. When they got to the bottom he stopped her. He slipped a tie out of his pocket and tied it round her eyes.
Emma: Lock what are you...
Sherlock: Trust me.
Emma: Always.
Sherlock led her across what felt like sand, she could smell and hear some waves. He positioned her and slowly took off the blindfold. She gasped.
There, in the middle of what looked like a private beach, lay a small picnic blanket surrounded in candles. A little portable radio lay nestled next to it. He pulled her towards it.
Emma: Sherlock this is beautiful. ( she spoke quietly)
Sherlock: You are more so.
He was watching her intently.
Emma: When did you do all this?
Sherlock: I've had it planned since they chose the venue, but i popped out before all the dancing.
Emma: You did?
Sherlock: I did. I wanted to show you just how much i am in love with you. I don't do romance, you know that, but i also know that you love it even though you don't expect it from me.
He took one hand in his and placed the other on his shoulder before leaning down and pressing play on the radio.
A beautiful, soulful tune played softly. Laying his arm round her waist he started to move with her. They danced until the final notes faded away.
Sherlock held her close.
Sherlock: While i composed the wedding song i also composed this for you.
Emma: What's is it called?
Sherlock: Only you.
Sherlock: Emma i never was interested in being in a relationship with anybody, never interested in even kissing anybody until i met you. I watched you for months, bantered with you at crime scenes and saw the intelligence behind your eyes. And then i observed how you were with children, How caring you were to strangers. I never wanted to let you go. Even when i left for those 9 months i though about you every single day, stared up at the stars every night hoping you may have been too. And then you gave me our son, this incredible tiny human i never thought i would father. I want you, for as long as i breathe. I want you to be mine.
Sherlock: I slipped up earlier, I want to be able to call your Mrs Holmes for real, I never used to believe but with you its something i want so badly.
And the next moment he had gotten down on one knee, reached into his pocket and brought out a small red velvet box, opening it lay a diamond ring. A simple gold band with a single diamond in the middle.
Emma's hands shot to her mouth. She whispered.
Emma: Lock..
Sherlock: Emma Taylor. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?
Emma stared in shock before slow tears trickled down her face.
Emma (whispering) Yes.
He gently took the ring out of the box, pulled his house crest ring off her finger and replaced it with the engagement ring. Once it was snug he gently kissed the diamond before standing and pulling her into a deep loving kiss. Pulling away and inch he whispered.
Sherlock: I love you so much Emma Taylor
Emma: I love you so much more Sherlock Holmes.
They made love on the blanket on the beach that night before falling asleep. They then stayed wrapped in each others arms until morning.