Exception || Sherlock Holmes x Reader

➳ Chapter Fourteen

Two Months Later

The morning of the wedding, you're in the bathroom doing your hair and a pinch of make-up wearing your robe while Sherlock is in the living room testing out the amazing song he wrote to make sure it's suitable to dance to.

"Shut up, Mrs. Hudson," you hear Sherlock say.

"I haven't said a word," she replies, setting the down the tea.

"You're formulating a question and it's physically painful watching you think."

"I thought it was you playing."

Sherlock sighs and turns off the music. "It was me playing. I am composing."

"You were dancing," Mrs. Hudson states.

"I was road-testing," Sherlock insists.

"You what?"

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asks in irritation as he sits in his chair and crosses his legs.

"I'm bringing you your morning tea. You're not usually awake," she replies, pouring him a cup and handing it to him.

"You bring me tea in the morning?"

"Where do you think it came from?"

"I don't know. I just thought it sort of happened," Sherlock shrugs.

"Your mother has a lot to answer for."

"Mmm, I know. I have a list. Mycroft has a file." You chuckle from the bathroom, causing Sherlock to smile momentarily.

Mrs. Hudson smirks and sits in John's chair. "So, it's the big day, then."

"What big day?"

"The wedding. John and Mary are getting married," she stresses.

"Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday, then carry on living together. What's big about that?"

"Marriage changes people," Mrs. Hudson states.

"Mmm, no, it doesn't," he replies, taking another sip of tea.

"Well, you wouldn't understand because you always live alone."

"Until now." Sherlock smiles internally at the realization. "Your husband was executed for double murder, you're hardly an advert for companionship."

"Marriage changes you as a person in ways that you can't imagine," Mrs. Hudson says.

"As does lethal injection."

Well, he's not wrong.

"My best friend, Margaret, she was my chief bridesmaid, we were going to be best friends forever, we always said that. But I hardly saw her after that," she sighs.

Having enough of Mrs. Hudson's presence, Sherlock sets down his tea, stands from his chair and goes to the door. "Aren't there usually biscuits?"

"I've run out."

"Have the shops?"

Mrs. Hudson continues with her story and you imagine Sherlock wanting to jump off that building again.

"She cried the whole day, saying, 'It's the end of an era.'"

"I'm sure the shop on the corner is open."

"She was probably right, really, I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early? So sad," she says, looking sympathetically at Sherlock.

"Anyway, you've got things to do," Sherlock rushes impatiently.

You decide you should intervene and finish up on your styling. You start making your way out just as Sherlock loses the last of his thinning patience.

"No, not really. I've got plenty of time-"

"Biscuits!" Sherlock shouts.

Mrs. Hudson gasps and rises from her seat, walking to the door. "I really am going to have a word with your mother."

"You can if you like, she understands very little," Sherlock claims, slamming the door. He sighs before looking at John's chair almost sadly.

"Sherlock," you say, gaining his attention. "Don't listen to them. Nothing is going to change."

"But what if it does?" he nearly whispers.

You lean up on your toes and kiss him on the lips. "It won't," you assure him after pulling away. "Now let's get this crap over."

"You don't like weddings now?" he asks as you drag him to the bedroom.

"Never have. I don't like any event where I either don't know anyone or am forced to socialize. Unfortunately, this includes both. Plus, weddings aren't my thing," you reply.

You and Sherlock stand in front of your outfits that are hanging up in the wardrobe and start putting them on. You're wearing a short (F/C) dress that makes you look utterly gorgeous and the heels you're being forced to wear by Mary make you almost as tall as Sherlock.

Sherlock is, of course, looking dashing in his black and gold suit with his hair more maintained than usual.

"You look sexy," you compliment, looping your arms around his neck.

"Thank you. As for you, I'm not too keen on this height boost," Sherlock replies. You slap his chest and he chuckles. "I'm kidding. You look absolutely ravishing."

You both smile, then go in for a loving kiss before heading to a wedding where more excitement than you bargained for is waiting.

♖♖♖

"We're going to at least pretend to have fun, correct?" you ask as Sherlock drives the two of you to the church in a rented vehicle.

"Of course. Maybe something interesting will come up or go wrong."

"Calm down, Satan. We both might not want to do this, but John is your best friend. Be happy for him."

"I am happy for him. This will just be a huge waste of time that could be spent on finding murderers or psycho clowns," Sherlock replies as he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other intertwined with yours.

"I know, but it's one day. It won't kill us," you point out.

"Yes, I suppose."

You drive for five more minutes until pulling into the church's parking lot. Sherlock hops out and walks around the car while buttoning his jacket, then opens the door for you, offering his hand. You take it and slide out of the passenger seat.

You and Sherlock don't miss the shocked expressions of the other arriving guests that the infamous, cold-hearted detective, Sherlock Holmes, brought a date.
Now, you managed to always avoid the media, so no one really knows who you are besides Scotland Yard, but Sherlock has always been a national hero. The only media picture of you two together was with John after one of the cases and people assumed you were just an associate from Scotland Yard.

You and Sherlock put on your neutral faces as you waltz to the church for the ceremony, both of you determined to make it through the day.