(Jared's POV)
RECEPTION...
"Married. Obvious, really. Our Mayfly Man was trying to escape the suffocating chains of domesticity ..." Sherlock said, while John grimaces and shakes his head while Mary widens her eyes briefly and then smiles at him. "... and instead of endless nights in watching the telly or going to barbecues with awful dreadful boring people he couldn't stand, he used his wits, cleverness and powers of disguise ..." He finally takes a breath, and smiles slightly. "... to play the field. He was ..."
Sherlock stops when he realises that he has lost his audience again. The guests look silently back at him. He looks down to his right to see John and I looking back at him straight-faced and Mary wrinkling her nose and shaking her head slightly.
"On second thoughts I probably should have told you about the Elephant in the Room. However, it does help to further illustrate how invaluable John is to me. I can read a crime scene the way he can understand a human being. I used to think that's what made me special – quite frankly, I still do. But a word to the wise: should any of you require the services of either of us, I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life. Trust me on that – I should know. He's saved mine so many times, and in so many ways." Sherlock said, holding up his phone. "This blog is the story of two men and their frankly ridiculous adventures ..." He smiles, and the guests chuckle. "... of murder, mystery and mayhem. But from now on, there's a new story – a bigger adventure." He looks down at the newlyweds, who smile happily. "Ladies and gentlemen, pray, charge your glasses and be upstanding."
Sherlock picks up his own glass while the guests do likewise and stand up. The photographer walks forward with his camera.
"Today begins the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson." Sherlock said, raising his glass.
"Sherlock, it's all in the name." I said, as John sighs a little, while Mary giggles.
"The two reasons why every single one of us is ..." Sherlock said, stopping, freezing in place, staring blindly towards the guests.
The photographer snaps several photos of him but the popping flashbulb doesn't make him react. Sherlock's fingers loosen slightly and his champagne glass slips out of them and begins a very slow-motion tumble towards the floor.
(Open POV)
Council Chamber...
Sherlock – now in his wedding gear – lowers his raised hand and turns towards the five uniformed women.
"What did you say?" Sherlock asked, pointing at Tessa and is walking slowly towards her. "You said, 'John Hamish Watson'. You said that. You said, 'Hamish'.
Flashback to the landlord hauling a drunk Sherlock up onto his knees.
"... whoa, whoa!" Sherlock said, in the flashback.
"This is a famous detective. It's Sherlock Holmes and his partners, John Hamish Watson and Jared Shay." Tessa said, in the flashback.
"How did you know? How did you know his middle name?" Sherlock asked, circling around Tessa in the Council Chamber, before walking backwards, still facing Tessa. "He never tells anyone. He hates it. Only Jared knew because of his foreknowledge."
(Jared's POV)
FLASHBACK...
Sherlock, with at least ten unlit cigarettes stuffed in his mouth, walks across the living room of 221B. John is sitting at the dining table facing the windows and typing on his laptop, and Sherlock frowns down at the screen as he walks past. Taking the cigarettes out of his mouth, Sherlock turns his back on John as he walks into his line of sight so that John can't see the cigarettes. I am playing Mario Kart 8 Deluxe on my Nintendo Switch and drinking a cup of tea.
There is a lot less grey in John's hair than in 'our' present and so this flashback presumably takes place not long after John moved into Baker Street.
"'John H. Watson'?" Sherlock asked, reciting what he had just seen at the top of John's blog page.
"Yep." John said, glancing briefly round at Sherlock.
"I'm not telling you what it means, Sherlock." I said, while John continues typing, Sherlock sits down on the sofa, stuffing the cigarettes into a Persian slipper while keeping a wary eye on the army doctor in case he looks round. "I know John's middle name. But it's way too early for you to know."
"You're no help, Jared." Sherlock said, tapping the cigarettes down, then lies down on the sofa and shoves the slipper underneath it. "No help at all."
ANOTHER DAY...
Sherlock, John, and I are sitting at the kitchen table with me drinking a cup of coffee. John is reading the paper.
"Henry?" Sherlock asked.
"Shut up." John said, without looking up.
"Nope." I said, as Sherlock bites into a piece of toast.
ANOTHER DAY...
Sherlock looks up from his microscope at the kitchen table and turns his head to where John is sitting in his armchair reading and I am eating some Pop Tarts.
"Humphrey?" Sherlock asked.
"Shut up." John said, firmly.
ANOTHER DAY...
Buttoning his jacket, Sherlock walks out of his bedroom and stops outside the door to the bathroom to see me waiting there. The shower is running inside.
"Higgins?" Sherlock asked, loudly.
"Go. Away." John said, loudly from inside the bathroom.
"That's not his middle name." I said, and Sherlock walked on, grimacing. "Sorry, it's not, Sherlock."
(Open POV)
COUNCIL CHAMBER...
It is now the present.
"Took him years to confide in me." Sherlock said.
FLASHBACK...
John walks up the stairs of 221 carrying bags of shopping.
"Sherlock. Why did you do that?" Jared asked, walking over to Sherlock.
Sighing tiredly, John walks into the living room where Sherlock is standing just to the left of the door with a sheet of paper in his hands and Jared is standing in front of the consulting detective.
"I was curious." Sherlock said, holding the sheet of paper.
John glances at the sheet of paper as he walks past, then stops and backs up, "That's my birth certificate."
"Yep." Sherlock said, loudly popping the 'p,' he walked away. "Used the Torchwood software to find it and I printed it out."
"I'm sorry, John." Jared said, and John stares after Sherlock.
COUNCIL CHAMBER...
It is the present and Sherlock looks quizzically at Tessa, then turns and walks towards the Chairman's bench.
"And The Woman – she knew." Sherlock said.
FLASHBACK...
Irene Adler and Sherlock having eyesex in the living room of 221B during the events of 'A Scandal in Belgravia'.
"Hamish." John said, abruptly, and Sherlock and Irene both look at him. "John Hamish Watson – just if you were looking for baby names."
COUNCIL CHAMBER...
"God knows where she is." Sherlock said, still walking towards the front of the chamber. "Jared wouldn't even tell me where she is."
Irene is standing right in front of Sherlock, her hair up, her face beautifully made-up, stark naked and looking at him intensely. He stops and sighs with annoyance. She reaches forward and strokes one finger down his cheek.
"Out of my head. I am busy." Sherlock said, exasperated.
Irene slowly pulls her hand away and Sherlock turns back to the other women. Irene has gone again.
"There's only one time that name's been made public." Sherlock said, looking at Tessa.
FLASHBACK...
A mock-up of the wedding invitation is on the screen of a laptop. The top part reads:
Dr John Hamish WATSON & Miss Mary Elizabeth MORSTAN
Request the pleasure of your company
at their marriage
John points at the screen, "Does it have to be on the invitation?"
"It's your name, John." Jared said, happily. "It should be on the invitation."
Mary, John, Sherlock, and Jared are in 221B's living room looking at the laptop.
"Jared's right. It's traditional." Mary said, simultaneously, as Sherlock said this. "It's funny."
John looks round at Sherlock while Mary bites back a smile.
"Enjoy the wedding." Tessa said, as a voice over.
Reception...
Sherlock's glass continues its ultra-slow-motion fall towards the floor.
Council Chamber...
Tessa smiles brightly at Sherlock, "Enjoy the wedding."
"The wedding." Sherlock said, pointing at Tessa. "You knew about the wedding; more importantly, you'd seen a wedding invitation. Now barely a hundred people had seen that invitation. The Mayfly Man only saw five women. For one person to be in both groups ..." Sherlock tilts his hand back and forth. "... could be a coincidence."
"Oh, Sherlock." Mycroft said, disapprovingly, nearby.
Sherlock turns around. Mycroft is up on the dais, standing in front of the Chairman's chair. The women have vanished.
"What do we say about coincidence?" Mycroft asked.
"The universe is rarely so lazy." Sherlock said, slowly walking towards Mycroft.
"So, the balance of probability is ...?"
"Someone went to great lengths to find out something about this wedding."
"What great lengths?"
"They lied, assumed false identities." Sherlock said, stopping, while continuing to stare intensely up at his brother.
"Which suggests ...?" Mycroft asked.
"Criminal intent."
"Also suggests ...?"
"Intelligence, planning."
"Clearly. But more importantly ...?"
Reception...
The champagne glass continues its fall.
Council Chamber...
"The Mayfly Man." Sherlock said, in the Chamber.
Reception...
The champagne glass continues downwards.
Council Chamber...
"The Mayfly Man is ..." Sherlock said, in the Chamber.
Reception...
"... here today." Sherlock said, at the reception, when his champagne glass smashes on the floor at his feet and he looks down at it, before raising his head. "Ooh, sorry. I ..."
"It's okay, Sherlock." Jared said, as Sherlock looked down at the floor, making an exasperated noise and clearing his throat. "You were in the zone, I know."
The Master of Ceremonies/Head Waiter hurries over to Sherlock, "Another glass, sir?"
"Thank you, yes. Thank you, yes." Sherlock said, taking the glass from the Master of Ceremonies.
Sherlock looks out at the guests.
Council Chamber...
"Something is going to happen – right here." Mycroft said, in the Council Chamber.
Reception...
Sherlock looks around, clearly thinking frantically.
Reception/Council Chamber...
Sherlock flickers back and forth between the Chamber and the reception but then looks at the guests, "Now, where were we?"
"Could be any second." Mycroft said, in the Council Chamber.
Holding their glasses in the reception room, Mrs Hudson and Greg look a little anxious. Greg looks at Mrs H and frowns.
"Sherlock, you have control of the room." Jared said, appearing in the Council Chamber. "Use it to your advantage. You need to find the Mayfly Man."
"Ah, yes. Raising glasses and standing up. Very good. Thank you." Sherlock said, shaking his head a little in the reception room.
"Don't lose it, Sherlock. We can't let him get away." Jared said, sternly, in the Council Chamber.
Reception...
Sherlock raises both hands and gestures downwards, "And down again."
Confused, the guests start to sit down, murmuring amongst themselves. Sherlock looks at them for a moment, then puts his glass down on the table and straightens up.
"Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech – get off early, leave 'em laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind. But for now ..." Sherlock said, putting one hand on the table and quickly jumps over to the other side. The guests gasp in surprise. "... part two." He walks into the central aisle between the tables. "Part two is more action-based. I'm gonna ... walk around, shake things up a bit."
Sherlock looks at each person as he walks past, mentally tagging each of the men with a sign near them reading, 'MAYFLY MAN?' The only male guests who don't get a tag are young Archie and Jared Shay.
"Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding?" Sherlock asked, as two thirds of the way along the room, he turned around. "Well, everyone." He claps his hands once. "Weddings are great! Love a wedding."
"What's he doing?" Mary asked, quietly, to John and Jared.
"Something's wrong." John said, watching Sherlock with concern.
"He's trying to find the Mayfly Man." Jared said, sadly.
"Now? Sherlock's trying to find him now?"
"Yup."
"And John's great, too!" Sherlock said, pointing towards John as he heads back along the room. "Haven't said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his ... jumpers ..." John closes his eyes in disbelief. Out on the floor, Sherlock is pacing and turning back and forth, peering at each of the male guests and their imaginary tags. "... and he can cook. Does ... a ... thing ... thing with peas ... " John, Mary, and Jared exchange a puzzled glance. Sherlock continues to pace and look closely at the guests. "... once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. But he's got a great singing voice ... or somebody does." Sherlock sighs in frustration, his teeth clenched. "Ahh, too many, too many, too many, too many!"
Sherlock grimaces angrily, the 'MAYFLY MAN?' tags now huge and overwhelming him. He stops and takes a breath and the tags disappear.
"Sorry. Too many jokes about John! Now, er ..." Sherlock said, frowning.
Reception/Council Chamber...
Inside his head, Sherlock slowly walks across the Council Chamber again towards Mycroft and Jared, staring up at him.
"Criminal intent." Mycroft said.
"Where was I? Ah, yes ..." Sherlock said, at the reception.
"Extraordinary lengths." Mycroft said, in the Council Chamber.
"You have to come up with a speech." Jared said, in the Council Chamber. "You can't lose control, Sherlock."
"Speech!" Sherlock said, at the reception, and pointing towards the top table, grinning round at the guests. "Speech." He claps his hands together again. "Let's talk about ..."
"All of which is suggestive of ...?" Mycroft asked, in the Council Chamber.
In the Chamber, Sherlock's eyes widen and he presses his lips together to begin forming the word.
(Jared's POV)
Reception...
"... murder." Sherlock said, as John sighs and lowers his head, while Mary and I frown. "Sorry, did I say 'murder'? I meant to say 'marriage' – but, you know, they're quite similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other, and it's over when one of them's dead." He emphatically sounds the 'd' at the end of the word. Again John sighs and lowers his head. "In fairness, murder is a lot quicker, though. Janine!"
Janine looks up a little wide-eyed.
"What about this one?" Sherlock asked, walking over to stand behind one of the male guests. "Acceptably hot?" He grins at Janine, then looks at the woman sitting beside the man. "More importantly, his girlfriend's wearing brand-new uncomfortable underwear ..." Sherlock zooms in on the top part of the woman's dress, where the seam of her ill-fitting bra – or whatever she's wearing underneath – is visible through the material; then he zooms across to a thread of cotton on the man's jacket. "... and hasn't bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket ..." He zooms to a smudge on the man's neck. "... or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he's going home alone."
Sherlock now has his phone behind his own back and is rapidly typing onto it with his thumb.
"Also, he's a comics and sci-fi geek. They're always tremendously grateful – really put the hours in." Sherlock said, chuckling. "Geoff, the gents." He looks across to Greg and jerks his head towards the door. "The loos, now, please."
"It's Greg." Lestrade said.
"The loos, please." Sherlock said.
"Greg, listen to Sherlock, please." I said, and Greg's phone beeps a text alert. "Please..."
"Why?" Lestrade asked, reaching into his pocket.
"I don't know. Maybe it's your turn to use the bathroom." I said, jerking my head towards the door, grimacing. "Please..."
Greg looks at his phone and the new text message which reads:
Lock this place down.
"Yeah, actually, now you mention it ..." Lestrade said, standing up.
Sherlock pockets his own phone.
"Sherlock, any chance of a – an end date for this speech? Gotta cut the cake." John said, while Greg heads out of the door, Sherlock smiles widely and dances down the aisle, gesturing dramatically.
"Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, can't stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for once, Vatican Cameos." Sherlock said, directing the last two words directly to John in a conversational way as if they're a natural part of the sentence.
"Yup." I said, while John and I straightened up in our chairs. "It is definitely that."
"What did he say? What did Sherlock say? What's that mean?" Mary asked, looking between John and I.
"Battle stations. Someone's gonna die." John said, quietly, tugging the bottom of his waistcoat down.
"Yeah. And it's someone close to you, John." I said, letting out a sigh.
"What?!" Mary exclaimed, as John puts his hand over hers, silently shushing her.
(Open POV)
Reception/ Council Chamber...
Sherlock turns to look at the guests, where all the men, excluding Jared, are tagged with the 'MAYFLY MAN?' question again.
"Sherlock, you have to narrow it down." Jared said, in the Council Chamber.
At the reception, Sherlock grimaces, his eyes screwed tightly shut.
"Sherlock, narrow it down. Please." Jared said, in the Council Chamber. "You know who it is as much as I do. Yes, I have the foreknowledge because I watched it happen on TV. I can't tell you everything, because it's spoilers."
Sherlock blinks in the reception room, lowering his head and screwing his eyes shut again.
"But you still have to figure it out, Sherlock. Please. Narrow. It. Down." Jared said, in the Council Chamber. "You have to save this person's life."
Standing in front of Jared in the Chamber, Sherlock roars loudly with frustration and rage and slaps himself hard on the right cheek.
(Jared's POV)
Reception room...
Sherlock slapped himself hard across the cheek.
"No!" Sherlock said, loudly, angrily slapping his left cheek in both worlds, and louder in the reception room. "No!"
The tags disappear from above the men's heads. Sherlock angrily points upwards with the index fingers of both hands.
"Not you! Not you!" Sherlock said, while his mental image of Mycroft doubles, then floats away as the consultant detective calms down and lowers his hands a little to point his fingers towards the top table before talking in a quieter tone. "You."
John and I straightened again, looking back at him.
"It's always you. John Watson and Jared Shay, both of you keep me right." Sherlock said, walking towards John and I, now pointing at us with just one hand.
"I know." I said, smirking.
John and I stand as Sherlock walks up to the table.
"What do I do?" John asked.
"Well, the two of you have already done it. Don't solve the murder. Jared, you didn't have to solve the murder at all, because you already watched this happen on the telly. And you've been enjoying your day at the wedding because you wanted my help." Sherlock said, intensely. "You wanted my help to do this. Save the life." Drawing in a sharp breath through his nose, Sherlock turns towards the guests again with a manic grin on his face. "Sorry. Off-piste a bit. Back now." He went back to a high pitched tone. "Phew!" Sherlock claps his hands together and looks down at the floor, dropping the smile. "Let's play a game." He raises his eyes while lowering his head a little more, staring intensely out into the room. "Let's play Murder."
"Good luck, Sherlock." I said, happily. "Listen to Archie. You'll need it."
Behind Sherlock, John and I sit down again.
Sherlock prowls forward, his eyes flickering around the room at the guests.
"Sherlock." Mrs Hudson said, disapprovingly.
"Imagine someone's going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?" Sherlock asked, steepling his hands in front of his chin as he progressed forward.
"I think you're a popular choice at the moment, dear."
"If someone could move Mrs Hudson's glass just slightly out of reach, that would be lovely." Sherlock said, gesturing behind him. "More importantly, who could you only kill at a wedding?" He turns back to look at the guests and gives each one – both the men and the women, including me – a new tag reading, 'TARGET?' A line leads from each tag down to the relevant person and at the end of that line a small white bullseye overlays our bodies. "Most people you can kill any old place. As a mental exercise, I've often planned the murder of friends and colleagues." Rubbing his hands together in an Evil Genius sort of way, he walks back along the room, then gestures towards John. "Now John I'd poison." Mary nervously looks across to her husband. "Sloppy eater – dead easy. I've given him chemicals and compounds – that way, he's never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn't have a clue." Sherlock turned his head and looked over at me. "I can't even kill Jared, I can kill him and he comes back to life in a never ending cycle." He then looked over at Lestrade. "Lestrade's so easy to kill, it's a miracle no-one's succumbed to the temptation." Sherlock turns and heads towards the back of the room again. "I've got a pair of keys to my brother's house – I could easily break in there and asphyxiate him." He makes strangly gestures with his hands, then seems to realise that he may have gone too far. "... if, if the whim arose."
"He's pissed, isn't he?" Tom asked, quietly to Molly.
Without even looking round at Tom, Molly stabs a plastic fork onto the back of his hand.
"Ow!" Tom yelled, grabbing at his hand.
"So, once again, who could you only kill here?" Sherlock asked, turning and faces the guests again.
A few of the chairs nearest Sherlock are now suddenly empty but still have their 'TARGET?' tag pointing to the seats. Sherlock twirls his fingers and the tags disappear.
"Clearly it's a rare opportunity, so it's someone who doesn't get out much." Sherlock said, while more guests – and their tags – have vanished. "Someone for whom a planned social encounter known about months in advance is an exception. Has to be a unique opportunity." He turns around and more of the guests have gone. "And since killing someone in public is difficult ..." Sherlock turns again and more guests have disappeared. "... killing them in private isn't an option. Someone who lives in an inaccessible or unknown location, then." He turns again and all the visible seats are now empty. "Someone private, perhaps, obsessed with personal security."
One final 'TARGET?' tag drifts into view as he walks forward. It is pointing at the only person left in the room. Sherlock turns to face him. It is Major Sholto.
"Possibly someone under threat." Sherlock said, when the question mark beside the word in the tag disappears, and then the word itself fades out.
The bullseye superimposed over Sholto's body flashes red for a moment and then also disappears. As if sensing Sherlock's gaze, Sholto turns and looks at him. Sherlock stares back at him.
FLASHBACK...
Sherlock, John, Mary, and Jared are in the 221B living room.
"Major James Sholto. Who is he?" Sherlock asked.
"It's John's old commanding officer. Don't think he's coming though." I said, sadly.
"He'll be there." John said.
FLASHBACK...
I am now thinking about earlier at the reception.
"Where are you living these days?" John asked.
"Oh, way out in the middle of nowhere." Sholto said.
FLASHBACK...
I am now thinking about the park bench, outside the barracks.
"The press and the families gave him hell. He gets more death threats than you." John said, looking at Sherlock.
Reception...
Everyone is back in the room. Sherlock tries to act nonchalantly as he walks over to a nearby table and picks up one of the name cards on it while pulling a pen on a chain from his waistcoat.
"Ooh! A recluse, small household staff." Sherlock said.
(Open POV)
FLASHBACK TO THE COUNCIL CHAMBER...
"Job." Sherlock said.
"Gardener." Gail said.
"Cook." Charlotte said.
"Private nurse." Tessa said.
"Maid." Vicky said.
Reception...
"High turnover for additional security." Sherlock said, writing on the name card.
FLASHBACK TO THE COUNCIL CHAMBER...
"I do security work." Robyn said.
Reception...
"Probably all signed confidentiality agreements." Sherlock said, walking over to Sholto's table and casually dropping the name card down in front of him before walking away.
FLASHBACK TO THE COUNCIL CHAMBER....
"Do you have a secret you've never told anyone?" Sherlock asked.
"No." All the women said, simultaneously.
(Jared's POV)
Reception...
"There is another question that remains, however – a big one, a huge one: how would you do it? How would you kill someone in public?" Sherlock asked.
Sholto picks up the name card and looks at the writing on it. It reads:
IT'S YOU
"There has to be a way. This has been planned." Sherlock said.
"Mr Holmes! Mr Holmes!" Archie said, excitedly jumping up from his chair.
"Oh, hello, Archie." Sherlock said, stopping and turning to Archie before bending forward to get more down to his level. "What's your theory? Get this right and there's a headless nun in it for you on top of the video games Jared promised to give you."
"The invisible man could do it."
"The who, the what, the why, the when, the where?" Sherlock asked, in a very quick fire rate.
"The invisible man with the invisible knife. The one who tried to kill the Guardsman."
"Archie isn't wrong." I said, as Sherlock gasps and straightens up, his eyes wide. "He is correct."
(Open POV)
Sherlock's mind palace...
Sherlock is standing in front of his information wall at 221B, looking at all the wedding plans stuck up behind the sofa. He zooms in on a wedding invitation pinned to the wall, announcing the wedding at St Mary's Church, Sutton Mallet on Saturday 18th May at 12 o'clock and after.
He moves to look at his list of things to do and focuses on the word 'Venue'. There's a brief shot of the outside of the reception room. He looks at the word 'Venue' again and this time sees an image of the barracks and soldiers parading outside.
He shifts his focus to the word 'Plan' and then sees a close-up of Private Bainbridge standing on guard outside the barracks, his gaze fixed on the three tourists over the road as they walk away and reveal the stalker.
Sherlock moves his eyes to look at the word 'Rehearsal'. In flashback, the Duty Sergeant walks into the shower room and raps on the cubicle door, calling Bainbridge's name before he sees the slumped body and bloodstained water.
Sherlock zooms in on the word 'Rehearsal' and grimaces.
(Jared's POV)
Reception...
Major Sholto gets to his feet, picks up his ceremonial sword propped against a nearby window and turns to walk towards the door. Sherlock turns his head away, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opens them again.
"Oh, not just planned. Planned and rehearsed." Sherlock said, softly, turning and watching as Sholto reaches the door and starts to open it.
Sherlock turns back and heads quickly towards the top table, swiping someone's champagne glass from a table as he goes.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a short interlude." Sherlock said, skidding to a halt in front of the top table and turns and holds up his glass. "The bride and groom!"
A little uncertainty this time, the guests stand up and raise their glasses.
"The bride and groom." The guests said.
"John, Major Sholto is going to be murdered." I said, looking over to John and bending down to his level. "I forgot how. It's been a long day. I'm drunk. But it's gonna happen. Your friend is going to die."
Sherlock turns and grabs my hand as we start making our way through the guests who are now blocking the aisle, "'Scuse us, coming through!"
John quickly turns and takes Mary's head in one hand and kisses her.
"Consulting!" Sherlock said, as he and I are pushing through the crowd.
"Stay here." John said, looking at Mary.
"Please be careful." Mary said.
John gets up and starts making his own way through the guests, "'Scuse me. Coming through! 'Scuse me."
Mary hesitates for only a few seconds, then jumps up and follows John.
"Sorry, one more. Whoops! So sorry! Thank you!" Mary said, looking at the guests.
The guests murmur and chatter to each other in confusion.
Upstairs...
Major Sholto opens the door to his bedroom and walks in. He lays his sword on the bed and then undoes the zip around his suitcase. Lifting the lid and laying it back, he picks up a folded shirt on the top of the contents and puts it down inside the lid. On top of the rest of his clothing is a large pistol. He picks it up.
Downstairs...
On a half-landing partway up the staircase, Sherlock stands with the tips of his fingers against his temples and his eyes screwed closed.
John paces impatiently beside Sherlock and I, "How can you not remember which room? You remember everything."
"I have to delete something!" Sherlock said, irritably.
Mary runs around the corner and pelts up the stairs in between Sherlock and John, holding up her skirt with one hand to stop herself tripping over it.
"Room 207. Come along, Watsons!" I said, running ahead of Sherlock, John, and Mary. "Can't believe I remembered that."
Sherlock and John chase after me and Sherlock quickly overtakes me. Mary takes John's hand and they hurry after Sherlock and I. Reaching the second floor, Sherlock knocks on the door of Room 207 and tries the handle.
"Major Sholto? Major Sholto!" Sherlock said, rattling the door handle, and slamming the flat of his right hand repeatedly against the door. "Major Sholto!"
"If someone's about to make an attempt on my life, it won't be the first time. I'm ready." Sholto said, sitting on a chair beside the bed and speaking loudly enough to be heard through the door.
John walks towards the door. Sherlock steps back, shaking out his right hand and flexing the fingers.
"Major, let us in." John said.
"Kick the door down." Mary said.
"I can just use my sonic screwdriver and get in." I said, taking out my sonic screwdriver from my pocket, turned it on, and aimed it at the door.
"I really wouldn't. I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes." Sholto said.
"You're not safe in there. Whoever's after you, we know that a locked room doesn't stop him." Sherlock said, walking closer to the door again.
"'The invisible man with the invisible knife'." Sholto said.
"I don't know how he does it, Jared won't tell me how he does it, so I can't stop him, and that means he'll do it again." Sherlock said.
"Solve it, then. Solve it without Jared's help." Sholto said, sternly.
"I – I'm sorry?"
"You're the famous Mr Holmes. You don't need the help of one of your companions to help solve a case. Solve the case. On you go." Sholto said, as Sherlock straightens up, his eyes rapidly flickering from side to side. "Tell me how he did it and I'll open the door."
John steps forward again, "Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in! You're in danger!"
"So are you, so long as you're here." Sholto said, and Mary and I watched Sherlock as he paced back and forth across the landing. "Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don't approve of collateral damage."
"Solve it." Mary said, looking at Sherlock.
"Solve it without my help. Me giving you hints is helping you, Sherlock." I said, sadly.
Sherlock stops pacing and looks at Mary and I, "Sorry?"
"Solve it without Jared's help, and he'll open the door, like he said." Mary said.
"If I couldn't solve it before, even with Jared's help, how can I solve it now, without his help?" Sherlock asked.
"Because it matters now." Mary said.
"Sherlock, I helped you when it didn't matter." I said, rolling my eyes. "I don't want to help you now. You're clever enough to figure this out without my help."
"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked, looking at John. "What're they talking about? Get your wife and Jared under control."
"They're right." John said.
"Oh, you've changed!" Sherlock said, angrily.
"No, they are." John said, turning and points at Sherlock. "Shut up. You are not a puzzle-solver – you never have been. You're a drama queen." Sherlock's mouth drops open and he stares at John who spoke louder. "Now, there is a man in there about to die." He then spoke sarcastically. "'The game is on'." The army doctor angrily pointed at the door. "Solve it without Jared's help!"
(Open POV)
Sherlock bares his teeth at him, then his eyes suddenly snap upwards. He can see Private Bainbridge in full uniform standing at attention against a white background. Bainbridge rotates as if standing on a turntable, and Sherlock's vision zooms in to the man's white webbing belt.
The image changes to Major Sholto in his dress uniform rotating on the invisible turntable, and again the view zooms in on his white webbing belt.
Sherlock then recalls the waiter in the kitchen downstairs reaching down to take hold of the skewer pushed through the middle of the joint of beef.
In the shower room at the barracks, Bainbridge unclips his belt.
The waiter slowly begins to pull the skewer out of the joint.
Bainbridge unwraps his belt from around his waist.
The skewer comes free of the joint, and blood and juice stream out of the hole.
Bainbridge stumbles slightly, looking uncomfortable.
Blood continues to pour from the hole in the beef joint.
The duty sergeant knocks on the door of the shower cubicle, calling Bainbridge's name. Bainbridge is slumped on the floor inside and bloodstained water pours out under the door.
(Jared's POV)
Outside Sholto's bedroom...
Sherlock – who had closed his eyes during the memories – opens them again. He steps over to Mary, takes hold of her head in both hands and kisses her forehead.
"Though, in fairness, he's a drama queen too." Sherlock said, releasing Mary, then pointing towards John.
"Yeah, I know." Mary said, while John frowns.
"I'm a drama queen around Team RWBY too." I said, laughing a lot. "They bring out the worst in me sometimes."
Sherlock goes over to the door and speaks loudly, "Major Sholto, no-one's coming to kill you. I'm afraid you've already been killed several hours ago."
"What did you say?" Sholto asked.
"Don't take off your belt." Sherlock said.
"My belt?"
"His belt, yes. Bainbridge was stabbed hours before we even saw him, but it was through his belt." Sherlock said, turning around and talking to John, Mary, and I as I thought about Sholto clipping his belt together when he got dressed for the wedding. "Tight belt, worn high on the waist. Very easy to push a small blade through the fabric and you wouldn't even feel it."
John is nodding his understanding, "The-the belt would bind the flesh together when it was tied tight ..."
"Exactly." Sherlock said.
"... and when you took it off ..." John said.
"Delayed action stabbing. All the time in the world to create an alibi." Sherlock said, shaking the door handle. "Major Sholto?"
"So – I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate." Sholto said, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror on the wall.
"He solved the case without Jared's help, Major. You're supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal." Mary said.
"I'm not even supposed to have this any more. They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn't imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose – given the circumstances – I don't have to." Sholto said, carefully tossing the pistol onto the bed and then looks into the mirror again. "When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue."
"Shit. He's trying to unclip it." I said, sadly. "He really wants to die."
"Are you kidding me?" John asked, while Sholto put his right hand to the belt fastener and tightened his fingers ready to unclip it. "Whatever you're doing in there, James, stop it, right now. I will kick this door down."
"Mr Holmes, Mr Shay, the three of us are similar, I think." Sholto said.
John turns away from the door and Sherlock walks closer with me.
"Yes, I think we are." Sherlock said.
"We really are." I said, frowning.
"There's a proper time to die, isn't there?" Sholto asked.
"Of course there is." Sherlock said, happily.
"And one should embrace it when it comes – like a soldier."
"Yeah. One should. But not at one's wedding. I did that when I was in Trenzalore." I said, sadly. "That was my grave. I survived that miraculously."
"Jared's right, he did that when he had no other choice. We wouldn't do that, would we – the three of us? Dying at John's wedding. We would never do that to John Watson." Sherlock said, firmly.
Sholto closes his eyes.
Outside, Sherlock and I step away from the door and John walks closer, leaning towards the door and listening for any sound from the room. He straightens up and takes off his jacket.
"I'm gonna break it down." John said.
"No, wait, wait, you won't have to." Mary said.
"Hmm?" John asked, when the door opened.
Sholto glances briefly at Sherlock and I, then lowers his eyes before looking at John, "I believe I am in need of medical attention."
"I believe I am your doctor." John said, following Sholto as he turns and goes back into the room.
Giving Sherlock and I a quick smile, Mary follows John. Sherlock closes his eyes for a moment, then follows them with me.
EVENING...
An orchestral rendition of the waltz 'On The Beautiful Blue Danube' by Johann Strauss II can be heard. In the foyer of the wedding venue, Sherlock and Janine are waltzing alone.
Sherlock is counting time, "One, two, three; der, der, der ... Ahh, pretty good."
"Ooh!" Janine said, while she stopped dancing with Sherlock.
"Just ... hold your nerve on your turning." Sherlock said, releasing Janine.
"Why do we have to rehearse?" Janine asked, adjusting the top of her strapless bridesmaid's dress.
"Because we are about to dance together in public, and your skills are appalling!" Sherlock said, leaning in and speaking confidentially.
"Oh, Sherlock..." I said, sipping on my glass of Rosé. "I can't help but feel bad for Janine."
Sherlock smiles at Janine and she laughs.
"Well, you're a good teacher." Janine said, looking at Sherlock.
"Mmm." Sherlock said.
"And you're a brilliant dancer."
"I'll let you in on something, Janine." Sherlock said, quietly, leaning towards Janine again.
"Go on, then." Janine said, in a whisper.
"I love dancing. I've always loved it."
"Seriously?"
"Watch out." Sherlock said, quietly.
Looking around to make sure that nobody else can see him, Sherlock swings both of his arms to the left, takes a sharp breath, rises onto his left foot and does a full-circle pirouette.
"Ooh! Woah!" Janine said, happily.
"Never really comes up in crime work but, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case." Sherlock said, clearing his throat.
"I wish you weren't ..." Janine said, sighing wistfully, while Sherlock turns and looks at her. "... whatever it is you are."
"I know."
John has just walked into view and has spotted Sherlock and Janine. John and I walked over to them.
"Well, glad to see you've pulled, Sherlock, what with murderers running riot at my wedding." John said, clapping his hand on Sherlock's back.
"One murder... – one nearly murderer." Sherlock said, looking at Janine. "Loves to exaggerate. You should try living with him."
"More like you should try living with me." I said, as the entrance door opened and Greg came in. "I'm more of a mess than John is."
"Sherlock? Jared?" Lestrade asked, pointing back out the door. "Got him for you."
"Ah, the photographer." Sherlock said, clapping his hands together as the wedding photographer walked in. "Excellent!" He looked at Greg. "Thank you." Sherlock walks over to the photographer and points at the camera he's holding. "Er, may I have a look at your camera?"
"Er ..." The photographer said, pulling his camera back nervously but then holds it out to him."... what's this about? I was halfway home!"
"You should have driven faster." Sherlock said, taking the camera and looks at the screen on the back of the camera and starts flicking through the pictures. "Ah, yes. Yes, very good. There, you see?" He smiles. "Perfect."
"What is? You gonna tell us?" Lestrade asked.
"Try looking yourself." Sherlock said, handing the camera to Greg.
"Um, look for what?" John asked, walking to Greg's side.
Janine and I also walked over. Sherlock strolls closer to the photographer.
"Is the murderer in these photographs?" John asked, pointing at the camera.
"It's not what's in the photographs; it's what's not in them – not in any of them." Sherlock said.
"Sherlock? The showing-off thing: we've discussed it before."
"There is always a man at a wedding who is not in any photograph but can go anywhere, and even carry an equipment bag around with him if he likes, and you never even see his face." Sherlock said, walking closer to the photographer and looks down towards his hand. "You only ever see ..."
I closed my eyes and thought about the wedding pictures, and then the photographer going round the reception taking photos. I opened my eyes to see Sherlock rapidly slaps one cuff of a pair of handcuffs around the photographer's wrist and the other cuff around the frame of a nearby birdcage luggage trolley.
"... the camera." Sherlock said.
"In this fan fiction I read called the Time Child. There's this one character called Danielle Fielding who takes photos of the Doctor and his companions. Along with the places they've been to together. It's essentially a parallel world to ours." I said, smiling. "Really good story. An amazing series I read now and again. I love it a lot. Danni's never in the pictures she takes though, because she's usually the photographer for them."
"What are you doing? What is this?" The photographer asked.
"Jonathan Small, today's substitute wedding photographer – known to us as the Mayfly Man." Sherlock said, holding up his phone to show the screen to me and the others. "His brother was one of the raw recruits killed in that incursion. Jonny sought revenge on Sholto, worked his way through Sholto's staff, found what he needed ..." I closed my eyes to picture Small arranging a group of five wedding guests – one of whom is Sholto – for a formal photograph. He is moving the people around so that they can all be seen by the camera which is on a tripod in front of them. "... an invitation to a wedding – the one time Sholto would have to be out in public. So, he made his plan ..." I then remembered Small, wearing casual clothes and a cap, outside the gates of the barracks. He moves to stand beside Bainbridge and then holds up a smartphone as if he's about to take a selfie of himself with the Guardsman. "... and rehearsed the murder ..." I thought about Small with the wedding group, moving to take Sholto by the shoulders to move him into position. "... making sure of every last detail."
(Open POV)
Standing behind Sholto, Small holds his shoulder with one hand and puts his other hand down to the back of his belt. We can't see what he's holding but we hear a sharp noise as the slender blade punches through the belt and into Sholto's back.
Outside the barracks, still holding his phone up with one hand, Small stands slightly behind Bainbridge and we hear the sharp noise of the blade stabbing through the Guardsman's belt. Bainbridge jolts slightly and blinks.
At the photoshoot, Sholto sways slightly and looks a little uncomfortable. Small glares murderously at him from behind, withdraws his hand and then puts it into his jacket's inside breast pocket, tucking the blade out of sight.
At the barracks, Small walks away from Bainbridge.
At the photoshoot, Small gives Sholto one last glare from behind, then walks forward to his camera.
(Jared's POV)
Reception foyer...
Small looks calmly at Sherlock.
"Brilliant, ruthless, almost certainly a monomaniac – though, in fairness, his photographs are actually quite good." Sherlock said, tossing his phone to Greg. "Everything you need's on that. You probably ought to ... arrest him or something."
Nearby, Mary comes into view, apparently looking for John. She spots him, smiles and hurries towards him. Janine, standing beside Sherlock and I, leans closer and speaks quietly without looking at the consulting detective.
"Do you always carry handcuffs?" Janine asked.
"Down, girl." Sherlock said, happily.
"Come on, quick!" Mary said, holding out her hand to John.
Mary reaches his side and John puts his arm around her as she turns and sees Small nearby. He is looking at Sherlock fixedly.
"It's not me you should be arresting, Mr Holmes." Small said.
"Oh, I don't do the arresting." Sherlock said, nodding towards Greg. "I just farm that out."
"Sholto – he's the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker." Small said, grinning maniacally, then his smile fades and he shakes his head. "I shouldn't have tried to be clever."
"You should have driven faster." Sherlock said, softly, before taking his hands from behind his back and crooked one arm to Janine.
Janine takes Sherlock's arm and they walk away. John, Mary, and I follow them.
Greg looks down at Sherlock's phone, then looks at Small, "Right ..."
Reception room...
The tables have been cleared away. Looking into each other's eyes, Mary and John are dancing a slow waltz in the middle of the room to the sound of a single violin while all the guests stand around the edge of the room and watch them. On a low stage at the end of the room Sherlock is playing his violin. The tune is the same one I heard at the beginning of this adventure. Sherlock sways gently while he plays, his eyes fixed on the newlyweds. As the tune draws to an end, John shifts one hand to Mary's back, holds her by the waist with the other and starts to dip her backwards.
Mary gasps, "Really?!"
Chuckling, John bends Mary backwards as she giggles. He kisses her as the tune ends.
"The army doctor and the former assassin." I said, laughing a lot. "Reminds me a lot of the Girl Who Waited and the Last Centurion. Man, I love weddings."
The guests break into applause and some of them cheer. Everyone, including me, is looking at the happy couple except Janine who directs her applause towards Sherlock.
Janine whoops at Sherlock, "Yeah!"
Sherlock looks at Janine for a moment, then turns to the music stand in front of him. He had taken off his buttonhole flower and put it on the stand so that it wouldn't get in the way while he was playing and now he picks it up, shows her what he's holding and then tosses it across the room towards her. She catches it. John – who has pulled Mary upright again and is laughing happily – waves his thanks to Sherlock, then kisses Mary again as Sherlock steps to the nearby microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, just, er, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with." Sherlock said, drawing in a breath. "More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. I've never made a vow in my life, and after tonight I never will again. So, here in front of you all, my first and last vow. Mary and John: whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on, I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you." He hesitates momentarily, then stutters. "Er, I'm sorry, I mean, I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. I've just miscounted." Sherlock takes a sharp breath. John and Mary exchange a slightly worried look. "Anyway, it's time for dancing." Over his shoulder to the DJ on the stage. "Play the music again, please, thank you."
Disco lights begin to flash and Sherlock gestures grandly to the guests as Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons' song 'December, 1963 (Oh What A Night)' starts to play.
"Okay, everybody, just dance. Don't be shy!" Sherlock said, walking down off the stage, still gesturing to the crowd. "Dancing, please!" The guests start to move onto the floor and begin to dance. "Very good!"
Sherlock and I walk over to Mary and John who look quizzically at us.
"Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting." Sherlock said, sadly.
"One more. Nah. You were spot on, Sherlock." I said, sipping on my glass of Rosé.
"Thank you."
"'Deduction'?" Mary asked.
"Increased appetite ..." Sherlock said, looking intensely at Mary.
I thought about Mary taking one of the canapés from the waiter's tray.
"Starving." Mary said, in the flashback.
"... change of taste perception ..." Sherlock said.
I then thought about Mary grimacing at her wine glass.
"Urgh. I chose this wine. It's bloody awful." Mary said, in the flashback.
"... and you were sick this morning. You assumed it was just wedding nerves. You got angry with me when I mentioned it to you. All the signs are there." Sherlock said.
"'The signs'?" Mary asked.
Sherlock glances across to John, then turns his eyes back to her.
"The signs of three." Sherlock said, while his gaze drops to Mary's abdomen.
"What?!" Mary exclaimed.
"God! I've been waiting to say this all day." I said, laughing a lot. "Mary, you should do a pregnancy test after the wedding."
John sighs and drops his head, almost bending over double. Mary grins delightedly at Sherlock and I.
"W... th... the statistics for the first trimester are ..." Sherlock said, sadly.
"Shut up. Both of you." John said, straightening up.
Sherlock freezes in the middle of forming his next word. He looks at John as if waiting for permission to continue.
"Just ... shut up." John said.
"Sorry." Sherlock said, frowning.
John turns to Mary.
"How did Sherlock notice before me? Jared would know because all this was a show on the telly to him. I'm a bloody doctor." John said, looking annoyed with himself.
"It's your day off." Sherlock said.
"It's your day off!"
"Stop-stop panicking."
"I'm not panicking."
"I'm pregnant – I'm panicking." Mary said, sadly.
"Don't panic. None of you panic." Sherlock said, as the Watsons both looked down, their faces full of concern. "Absolutely no reason to panic."
"Oh, and you'd know, of course?" John asked.
"Yes, I would. You're already the best parents in the world. Look at all the practice you've had!" Sherlock said, excitedly.
"What practice?"
"Well, you're hardly gonna need us around now that you've got a real baby on the way."
"Yeah. And a baby that doesn't grow up as a psychopath by being conceived in the time vortex." I said, and John stared, then Sherlock and I smiled happily at him. "The Ponds had a much more complicated life than you and Mary."
"Fair point." John said, laughing and reaching out to cup the back of his neck.
Laughing even more, John turns to his wife and puts his other hand on her shoulder as she begins to smile with delight. Sherlock and I turned our smiles towards Mary, but after a moment the smiles began to fade a little.
"You all right?" John asked, looking at Mary.
"Yeah." Mary said, a little breathlessly.
John turns back to Sherlock and I, smiling joyfully.
The three of us look at each other for a long moment, then John breaks eye contact and we look a bit awkward. There's a slightly embarrassed pause for a couple of seconds.
"Watsons. Dance." I said, abruptly.
"Mm?" John asked.
"Both of you, now, go dance. We can't just stand here. People will wonder what we're talking about." Sherlock said.
"Right."
Mary reaches out to touch Sherlock's arm and my arm, her voice tearful, "And what about you two?"
"Well, we can't all four dance. There are limits!" John yelled.
"Yes, there are." Sherlock said, sadly.
"Have fun, John and Mary." I said, while John clears his throat. "You two need it!"
Still looking tearful, Mary turns to John, "Come on, husband. Let's go."
"This isn't a waltz, is it?" John asked, pointing over his shoulder.
Mary laughs.
"Don't worry, Mary, I have been tutoring him while Jared has been playing video games on his Nintendo Switch." Sherlock said.
"Sherlock did, you know. Baker Street, behind closed curtains." John said, turning to face Mary, he takes her right hand with his left and puts his other hand on her waist. "Mrs Hudson came in one time. Don't know how those rumours started!"
John sniggers. Giggling, Mary puts her left hand on his shoulder and they dance off into the crowd. Looking over John's shoulder, Mary smiles at Sherlock and I and mouths what may be a 'thank you.'
Sherlock and I smiled, then nodded to her.
"Your welcome, Mary." I said, smiling.
As our friends dance away, Sherlock lowers his eyes, then slowly turns and looks at everybody dancing all around him, keeping his head lowered as if trying not to meet anyone's eyes.
"Jared, what do we do now?" Sherlock asked, looking very lost with me in the middle of the crowd. "What's next?"
"We prepare for what's ahead." I said, after a few moments, however, Sherlock seems to have a thought and lifts his head, grabbing my hand, still looking around but now with more intent. "I know what's to come and it scares me."
"I know." Sherlock said, eventually seeing Janine dancing some distance away. "You really are scared."
Janine is wearing Sherlock's buttonhole flower pinned to the top of her dress. She looks across the room and smiles at Sherlock. Returning her smile, Sherlock starts to walk towards her with me and she lifts her hand and points to her right with her thumb up, grinning happily.
"I am." I said, as Sherlock stops when he realises that she's dancing with the 'comics and sci-fi geek' he had recommended to her earlier. "I don't want today to end, Sherlock."
"I know." Sherlock said, and Janine turns away and continues to dance with her new friend.
Sherlock looks reflective for a few seconds, then turns towards the stage with me.
On the music stand is the hand-written music he played for the newlyweds. In the top right-hand corner is written:
Waltz,
for Mary & John
by
Sherlock Holmes
Sherlock picks up the music and folds it into an envelope, which he puts onto the stand. Written on the envelope is:
Dr. and Mrs Watson
Leaving the stage, Sherlock and I walked slowly through the guests.
"Let's go, Jared." Sherlock said, squeezing my hand.
Molly, dancing with Tom and Mrs Hudson, looks across the room and watches Sherlock and I for a few seconds, then turns back to the others.
"Yeah." I said, letting out a sigh. "I don't know what to do. I haven't planned all too well, Sherlock."
Garden outside the reception room...
While the revellers dance on, Sherlock puts his coat on and, with the collar turned up to the max, slowly walks away with me.