Exception || Sherlock Holmes x Reader

➳ Chapter Sixteen

Sherlock is already hauling you over to Mary once John goes to great his old commanding officer.

"So that's him? Major Sholto," Sherlock assesses.

"He's just jealous," you clarify.

"Yes, I know," Mary replies with a knowing smirk.

"If they're such good friends, why does he barely mention him?" Sherlock asks, ignoring your comment.

"He mentions him all the time to me. Never shuts up about him."

"About him?" Sherlock inquires as if appalled by the idea, making you giggle from his side.

Mary takes a sip of her wine. "Ugh, I chose this wine. It's bloody awful."

"Yes, but its definitely him that he talks about?" Mary nods. "I've never even heard him say his name."

"Well, he's almost a recluse. You know since-"

Sherlock cuts her off. "Yes."

"I didn't think he'd show up at all. John says he's the most unsociable man he's ever met," Mary says.

Sherlock's eyes widen. "He is? He's the most unsociable? Ah, that's why he's bouncing around him like a puppy."

"Oh, Sherlock. Neither of us were the first, you know," Mary chuckles and you rub up and down Sherlock's arm to soothe his tense muscles.

"Stop smiling. Both of you."

"It's my wedding day," Mary laughs again.

Sherlock takes out his phone to check the time before walking off with you. You send Mary another smile before you and Sherlock get to a more secluded area of the dining hall where you let go of his arm for him to make a call.

"Why are you out of breath? Either I've caught you in a compromising position or you've been working out again. I favor the latter.... I need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency... Even at the eleventh hour, it's not too late to know... Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered... What a shame. Mary and John will be extremely... Oh, I don't know.

"There should always be a spectre at the feast... What do you mean?.. No I don't understand... No, no, no. I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter... What? I know that silence. What?... Mycroft!.. Involved? I'm not involved... John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no?"

By this point, you can guess what Mycroft has been saying to Sherlock, and the look on Sherlock's face tells you to intervene for his sake, so you grab his phone.

"Instead of continuously running your mouth, run on something useful like a treadmill or a cliff." You hang up and tuck the phone back in Sherlock's pocket before cupping his face in your hands. "Do I need to stress to you to not listen to your brother or do you already know?"

Sherlock grins sadly while resting his hands on your hips. "I know I shouldn't, but everyone is saying it will be different and everything will change."

"It won't. Mary and I talked and we agreed that you two, and me occasionally, will go on a minimum of two cases a week. We'll all sign contracts if it makes you feel better," you reply.

"Maybe," Sherlock ponders.

"Stop worrying about that because for now, we're going to eat then you'll give the best best man speech ever," you state, leaning up to peck his lips before starting to fix his hair and jacket.

"All right, all right," Sherlock chuckles, pushing your hands away. "Let's get this done so we can go home."

Home. You definitely like the sound of that.

"You got it." You smile and you turn to start walking to your table with Sherlock behind you.

Mary and Sherlock graciously seated you between Greg and Mrs. Hudson since they're who you're most familiar as Sherlock is to sit at the head table.

Sherlock pulls your seat out and you sit down while he proceeds to his own chair. It seems that whenever the two of you aren't next to each other, a switch flickers off both of your emotions and you go back to being the people you used to be: all business, no messing around.

You try to shake the feeling as your preferred meal is placed in front of you, but you notice a few people's eyes on you.

"What?" you question, looking around the table.

"So are you Sherlock's play thing for the day?" a brunette whose bright yellow dress screams louder than a newborn baby questions.

You tilt your head and instantly deduce her, but only on a minor level. Crush on Sherlock, some type of medical training, a tad bit crazy, engaged to the man sitting next to her.

"Molly," Greg harshly whispers. "She is a very respected detective."

"I don't see it," Molly fake sighs.

"Actually, Sherlock and I have been together for a few months now," you answer, brushing away her snarkiness.

"He's never mentioned you," she replies.

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards. "That's good. I know enough about Sherlock to know he only talks about me to the people he trusts and I do the same for him." You watch her eye-widening reaction as you sip your drink.

"Wait. I remember you were there during the little get together after Sherlock disabled the bomb. Why didn't you stay longer? Sherlock kick you out?" Molly inquires.

"I work with both Sherlock and John on cases and we had press," you answer casually while digging into your food.

"Sherlock isn't one for relationships, so how would he be okay with having one with you?"

You set down your utensils and look her dead in the eye. "Maybe because I don't constantly ask incredibly irrelevant questions nor did I have some type of little school girl crush on him like you. I'll ask you kindly only once to be a mature adult and drop it.

"For God sakes, your own fiance is sitting right there and you're interrogating your crush's girlfriend. Once you find your dignity, you may speak again, but for now, put something useful in your mouth instead of my personal life, like this food."

"Fucking hell," Lestrade mumbles with a smile.

Molly's face turns red with embarrassment and she lowers her head and begins eating. You dig back into your own food and the rest of the table slowly follows suit.

You peer over at Sherlock (who you have a perfect view of) and you see the tiny smile gracing his lips telling you that he without a doubt heard everything you said.