221c - A Sherlock Fanfiction

Allison

Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. 

Season 4 came out the other day, and some ...things... happened that greatly interfere with where I was going with my story. So, I'm just going to tell y'all that this story is happening as if season 4 never took place. I am nearing the end of this story, but I will post another one that is a continuation of it.

If you want to discuss theories about season 4 with me, just send me a message!!

Cheers!

-Lai

"So, Allison, how was the honeymoon?" asked John, taking a sip of the beer he was drinking.

I shrugged, then took a big bite of a piece of fried fish in my fish and chips. "I had loads of fun. I don't think Sher started having fun until we found the body."

John made a choking noise. "You found a body?!" he exclaimed.

I chuckled. "Yeah. We solved the murder too. Livened up the honeymoon for the both of us."

He shook his head and took another swig of his beer. "You two are insatiable."

"You could say that," I said, eating a few chips. They were better with ketchup, but I didn't like being high maintenance, so I made due with tartar sauce.

"I do say that," grumped John.

I made a face at him.

"Tell me more," he demanded, not unkindly.

"Well, he almost never got off his phone. I had to drag him out of the hotel every day just to get him outside, and he insisted on wearing the coat, even though Spain is quite temperate in late May."

"Did you-"

"Shut up." I said. I knew exactly what he had been about to say, before he even started to speak.

He gave me a look and took a bite of his burger.

"I'm being nice enough to treat you to lunch, John." I chided, but I was only kidding and I knew he could tell.

"So, details about the murder?" he asked.

"A man who worked for a large cartel was caught in the act of betraying his employers and was disposed of. We both got all that from one look. It was, however, a bit harder to track down and take out the cartel. Language barrier and all," I said, popping a chip in my mouth.

"You speak perfect Spanish, and so does Sherlock. You took down an entire cartel in a week?" John asked, incredulously.

"Yeah. Well, part of it. The police are finishing up what we started."

"Oh," he said, a bit stunned.

We finished up lunch, making small talk about this and that. Eventually, I payed the bill and bid John adieu. Sherlock and I had just gotten back from our honeymoon, and had quite the pile of wedding gifts to unwrap. He wasn't exactly looking forward to it, but I was.

"Hey Sherlock, I'm home," I said, opening the door to 221b.

"Good." he rumbled, sitting on the sofa. There were presents strewn about the flat. "This is stressing me out."

I laughed. "Why would it be stressing you out?"

"Gifts. I don't like gifts. I don't give them, I don't get them. Plain and simple."

I gave him a look, and motioned for him to hand me a present. It had impeccable wrapping, and was tied with an intricate bow. I could tell instantly that it was from Mycroft.

I opened it to find a coat. Not just any coat. A Belstaff Milford coat, the black and charcoal Irish tweed. Discontinued. The coat that Sherlock always wore.

However, I observed a few alterations that made it more feminine, such as a tapered waist and more flair in the bottom. It was awesome.

Sherlock just sort of stared at it for a moment, and picked up the tag on the present. His mouth twisted in a wry smirk.

I grabbed the tag, which read, 'To the new Mrs. Holmes'. I chuckled. "Your brother has a sense of humor," I said, also smirking. Sherlock let out a noise of dismissal, and I handed him another gift.

We unwrapped dish sets and silverware and at least six microwaves. Why microwaves? Because ours kept blowing up. 'Too many experiments'. Whatever that means.

I even unwrapped a deerstalker from Greg, which made me laugh so hard I cried a little. Sherlock just sort of stared at me with a confused expression on his face, as if he thought it was ridiculous that I found it so incredibly funny that we matched.

I got at least forty boxes of my favourite tea from Genny, which made me happy. Mum didn't get me anything, but then again, I hadn't expected her to. She was the kind of person who would go to a birthday party and not bring a gift, just mooch. She was a huge mooch.

Mrs. Hudson got me a lovely set of framed pictures of our wedding. I put those up right away, Sherlock looking on with an odd expression on his face.

"Well," I said, looking at all the empty boxes and ripped wrapping paper. "This place is messier than usual. Which is in fact something that is nearly impossible."

Sherlock let out a chuckle and I smiled.