Despite the Odds

Chapter 8: Speech

The master of ceremonies tinkled his glass, calling: "Pray silence for the best man."

Sherlock stood nervously from his seat at the front of the room, fixing his tuxedo as everyone clapped, some cheering. Marie sent him an encouraging smile from where she was sitting between Greg and Mrs. Hudson and he glanced at her gratefully before he drew himself tall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others. Er ... w... A-a-also ..."

Marie tried not to show her concern on her face as Sherlock faltered, looking slightly overwhelmed and alarmed as he faced the entire room of people. She knew this was hard for him; despite how he appeared before the press, it was much easier for him when he was explaining the solution to a triple-murder case than it was for him to try and be sincere in front of a large crowd of people- people, he knew, John and Mary cared about to some degree.

To stand in the spotlight as he was now, in front of all those people as he stood by his seat beside the bride and groom, was surely torture for the poor man. She could feel the same concern radiating from Mrs. Hudson and Greg, and Molly, sitting beside Greg. Molly had spoken to Marie about the matter before...

**********

"Rose-Marie." Molly had said abruptly one day at the Bart's cafeteria. Marie had looked at the woman curiously.

"Yes?" She'd prompted and Molly continued worriedly: "What if John asks Sherlock to be his best man?"

Marie replied confusedly: "He probably will, won't he?"

"Exactly." Molly had said emphatically.

"So?" Marie had asked before understanding dawned.

"Oh..." She said slowly and Molly nodded.

"Finally someone who gets it." She sighed and Marie frowned.

"What do you mean, 'finally'?" Marie asked and Molly answered: "I spoke with Greg and Mrs. Hudson- neither of them seemed to quite grasp the severity of the situation. Greg just wondered what was the worst that could happen, while Mrs. Hudson just laughed."

Marie grimaced and sighed: "Of course they did."

Marie and Molly had shared understanding looks and Marie had said slowly: "I'll try to prepare him...

"I'm not sure it'll help." Molly grimaced. "The telegrams..."

**********

In the present, John sighed: "The telegrams."

John grimaced, recalling Mrs. Hudson's hysterical laughter that day he'd come to visit 221B. Sherlock mistook his words as a hint because it made him remember that was what he needed to do first.

"Right, um..." Sherlock muttered, fidgeting as he searched for the pile before picking the pile up from on the table before him. He said aloud: "First things first. Telegrams. Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don't know why. Wedding tradition."

Sherlock rambled slightly. He then sighed as he added bitterly: "Because we don't have enough of that already, apparently."

John tried not grimace while Marie winced. Thankfully Sherlock finally began to read the various 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."

"Aw." Mary sighed while John said appreciatively: "Ah, Mike."

Sherlock twitched a little but moved on quickly as he read the next telegram: "To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big..."