A New Mystery at 221 Baker Street

Chapter 55: Best Friend/ Man

Episode Transcript provided by Ariane DeVere/Callie Sullivan
***

It was finally time for Sherlock to deliver his speech and everyone at Alice's table was worried. She was sandwiched between Molly and Lestrade with Tom and Mrs. Hudson across from her. Molly watched with concern, remembering her sharing concern with the others.

"First things first: telegrams. Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them that. I don't know why. Wedding traditions because we don't have enough of that already," Sherlock mumbled as he picked up the stack of telegrams. "'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,"

"Ah, Mike," John said, smiling.

"To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big," Sherlock stumbled for a second. "Big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted," he said awkwardly.

Lestrade snickered at Sherlock's uncomfortable stance while Mrs. Hudson just smiled. Molly and Alice simply exchanged looks of worry.

"Mary, lots of love..." Sherlock trailed off again. "...poppet. Oodles of love and heap of good wishes from Cam, Wish your family could have seen this,"

Mary's smile faded and John took her hand to comfort her. The hairs on Alice's back stood up. If Magnussen knew about her past then he would know about Mary's. Noticing her sudden discomfort, Lestrade gave her a look of worry.

Sherlock started to skim the telegrams. "Special day, very special day, love, love, love," He said as he shuffled through the cards. "Bit of a theme- you get the general gist. People are basically fond" Sherlock tossed the telegrams aside sounding slightly annoyed.

"John Watson," Sherlock continued, gesturing towards John. "My friend, John Watson," Sherlock turned back to the audience. "When John first broached the subject of being best man, I was confused,"

***FLASHBACK***

Sherlock stood in his kitchen wearing safety glasses and holding an eyeball with tweezers in one hand and a blowtorch with the other. "What was that noise downstairs?" He asked John, who had just come upstairs after talking to Mrs. Hudson.

"Er, it was Mrs. Hudson laughing,"

"Sounded like she was torturing an owl," Sherlock said as he held the blowtorch to the optic nerve that dangled behind the eyeball.

"Yeah. Well, it was laughter,"

"Could've been both,"

John looked at Sherlock's current experiment. "Busy?"

Sherlock turned off the blowtorch and placed it on the table. "Just occupying myself. Sometimes, it's so hard not smoking," He leaned his head back dramatically and accidentally dropped the eye into his mug of tea. "Oh," He said, looking down at his mug.

"Mind if I interrupt?"

"Be my guest," Sherlock said, gesturing to the chair at the end of the table.

"Tea?" Sherlock offered the mug to John.

"Er, no thanks,"

Sherlock shrugged and took off his glasses.

"So," John continued "The big question,"

"Mmhmm,"

"The best man,"

"The best man?"

"What do you think?"

"Billy Kincaid,"