"I can't believe you actually agreed to come with me and stayed for the entire show," Lydia smiled as she slipped her hand in Sherlock's as they began to walk back from the theatre.
Sherlock replied teasingly, "and I can't believe that you'd actually want to go see more theatre on your one day off."
"Hey, you knew who I was when you started dating me."
His smile grew as he pressed his lips against her temple, "that I did and I wouldn't change it for the world. Still wish I didn't have to sit through the shows with you though, some of them are simply juvenile."
As they continued back to Baker Street, Lydia was a bit overwhelmed with how happy she was. Being with Sherlock was a completely indescribable feeling, especially when he was in an affectionate mood as he was that night. It almost made the years she had spent without him worth it - although she would never admit that to him. It broke her heart when she thought he had died and nothing could really ever heal that wound except for time.
"Sherlock, where are we going?" Lydia asked, suddenly brought out of her thoughts as Sherlock led her past Baker Street.
"Just a quick stop I wanted to make, it won't be long," he replied, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as though he was afraid that Lydia was going to refuse to follow him.
Which is what she did, "Sherlock, we have to get back to Willow, surely this can wait until morning?"
"I, er, actually checked with the babysitter ahead of time, she's being paid to stay there an hour later so that we have plenty of time to ourselves. I know I don't do this sort of thing often, but I've been trying to be a better partner, to be more romantic. So please, will you come with me?"
Lydia frowned at this comment, "but Sherlock, you already are an incredible partner. You are always there for me, no matter what, and you've been a tremendous father to Willow. There's nothing more that I can ask of you. I know that you don't always express your emotions in the same way others do, but you still show how much you care and I would never accuse you of not being good enough."
"Even so, I had somewhere I wanted to bring you, if you'd be willing to go," Sherlock offered, his eyes filled with a look of pleading. He was afraid she was going to say no, and everything that he had planned would fall apart.
But she gave a nod, "of course I'll follow you, Sherlock. I just want you to know that whatever you have planned, you don't need to do it to prove yourself worthy or secure my love for you, I already love you more than you could possibly know."
Sherlock smiled as he pulled her close, placing a tender kiss upon her lips. She replied to it eagerly, hoping to further prove her point, but was interrupted by Sherlock pulling away. Taking firm hold of her hand, he began to hurry them down the pavement, causing Lydia to laugh with her giddy excitement.
Sherlock slowed as they came to a familiar bridge, the Golden Jubilee Bridge to be exact. Lydia glanced around, wondering why Sherlock had slowed down, but not seeing anything out of the ordinary in sight. There were a few passers-by, but no one of clear import, and other than them, they had the bridge to themselves.
"Sherlock, what are we doing here?" She finally asked as Sherlock peered over the side at the river Thames.
"Do you remember the last time we were here together?" He replied, certainly not answering Lydia's question.
She frowned as she thought back, but all she could remember was, "there was that night years ago that I came here when I was upset and you came after me because John was worried."
"John wasn't the only one who was worried," Sherlock confessed, turning back to face her, his face illuminated by the city lights surrounding them. "When you left the flat, I felt this discomfort I never had before, it was as though the thought that you could be upset with me had created knots in my stomach. When John suggested I go after you, I didn't hesitate, knowing that I had to find you and apologise, maybe then the terrible feeling would melt away.
"That was the night I think I truly realised that I was falling in love with you. I remember every minute of it, every detail. The rain had caused your hair to fall flat and your makeup to run, yet you were so stunningly beautiful that I forgot how to breathe. As I helped you over the railing, I held you so close to me that I felt as though I would faint and I was suddenly drawn to your lips, desperate for a kiss."
As he spoke, Sherlock took Lydia in his arms, re-enacting the movements of that night, Lydia finding herself entranced by the way the city lights were reflected in his eyes. She found it hard to breathe as Sherlock leaned forward, meeting lips in a tender kiss. The world melted away in that moment and all that was left was her and Sherlock.
A whimper of disappointment left her throat as Sherlock broke the kiss, colour rising to her cheeks when she realised how desperate she was for more. But in her defence, Sherlock was being quite the romantic, a personality he was trying to exude more, but he always found it a bit difficult. Lydia had to admit, that she rather liked this Sherlock, it made her more excited than she was willing to admit.
"If you had told me back then that I would actually end up involved with you, I probably would have laughed you off. Apart from the fact I was actively trying to deny my feelings for you so that sentiment wouldn't cloud my judgement, I surely wouldn't have believed that one day you would fall in love with someone as cold and insensitive as me."
Before Sherlock could continue on, Lydia interjected, "Sherlock, that cold exterior is merely an act, both you and I know that. Even back then, you had allowed me to glimpse how much you really could care. It was the next day for me that I realised I was falling for you. On the train when you placed your hand on my leg to calm me, the realisation washed over me. I wanted the warm feeling that spread through my body at your touch, I craved getting lost in your beautiful eyes."
Sherlock smiled at her, feeling slightly more confident in his goal hearing her words aloud. He took her hand in his and continued, "I tried so hard not to let myself fall to sentiment, but you've made it impossible not to love you. Now having you back at my side, having Willow there with us, I've never been happier. Which is why I wished to ask you something. Lydia, would you be my wife?"
As Sherlock set up his question, he dropped down onto one knee and removed his grandmother's ring from his coat pocket, opening the box to show Lydia. She merely stood shocked, staring at him as her mind tried desperately to make sense of the situation. When she finally recovered, she quickly ushered Sherlock up from the ground, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had seen what Sherlock was doing. Luckily for her, it seemed the passers-by were too caught up in their own worlds and hadn't noticed that a man on the bridge was proposing.
-
(A/N): Look, Sherlock finally got the courage to propose! Although Lydia does not seem to be having the desired reaction... I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
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أدب الهواةSequel to Fight For Me Sherlock's death ripped 221B apart. After taking down Moriarty's network, Sherlock returns to London, expecting everything to fall back into place and life as he knew it to resume. However, he discovers the woman he loves has...