Fic for horrorfangirl: Where Speech Ends (Part 6/7)

[holmesticemods]

What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

She did not like sleeping in a bed all by herself, she realized as her eyes fluttered open. Her alarm was set for six-thirty but it hadn't gone off and the world outside her window was still dark. She doubted she would get to see the stars slowly fade from the sky, but that was all right. So long as there were no clouds in the sky this afternoon she would be happy. She sat up and reached over for her alarm, one of the few things still on her nightstand. It was four AM. She was going to need a lot of coffee to get through the day, she realized. Her wedding was today. She smiled to herself as she thought about it, just as she had as she'd gone to sleep the night before. She really was going to get married, to the man she loved most in the world, the man who seemed to compliment her in all the best ways, rather than complete her. She may have thought that when they first met, that it would take a man to complete her, and she admitted at times she had thought that about Tom. But she knew now she was a whole woman all on her own, and Sherlock had reaffirmed that so many times. She was glad she realized that even though they fit together quite well neither of them needed to give up parts of themselves for the other. It was quite refreshing.

She got out of bed and made her way around the boxes stacked in her bedroom to get to her silk dressing gown off the back of the door, slipping it on and tying the sash before leaving the bedroom. Normally the dressing gown was at Baker Street, since that was where she spent most of her time these days, but she'd made it a point to bring it back to her flat earlier in the week so it was there this morning. In a few weeks it would be back at Baker Street on a permanent basis. She hadn't even had to think about it before she agreed to move there, to be honest. This flat wasn't quite a home, not anymore. But Sherlock's home was. She felt at ease there, so deciding to stay there after she and Sherlock were officially husband and wife had been a very easy decision. They'd been moving her over in stages over the last month since she had quite a few things to go through. Mrs. Hudson had been lovely in suggesting she bring over her own furniture for the sitting room, and aside from Sherlock's favorite chair and the one John had asked them to keep everything in the room now was what had been in her flat. That left two chairs in her sitting room, as well as boxes to go to Baker Street and boxes of things to be donated. John said he would pick up the last of her boxes at nine and take them over before getting Sherlock ready for the big day.

She made her way out to the kitchen and began to make a pot of coffee to go with the pastries she'd picked up the day before since her pantry and refrigerator were quite bare. She was so focused on the coffee that it took her a minute to realize there was something on the table. She turned away from the coffeemaker and went over to it. Sitting there was a small box wrapped in blue and silver foil wrapping paper with a silver ribbon tied around it and an envelope on top. That box had not been there when she went to sleep the evening before. She pulled it closer and took the envelope off first. Written on it was simply her name, but she recognized it as Sherlock's handwriting. She grinned at that. He must have come by and left it at some point in the five hours she was asleep. She felt a tiny bit bad that she hadn't gotten anything for him now, but the gesture was really quite sweet. She picked it up and opened it, seeing that there was a card inside. When she pulled it out she saw there was a heart cutout on top, covered in a fine red lace, with “You're my eyes to see, my heart to beat, and my air to breathe. Without you, there's no me.” written underneath in red. She fingered the heart before opening up the card and seeing the note from Sherlock.

Molly,

The Buddhists say if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that's not the one. When you meet your “soul mate” you'll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation. I'm not entirely sure that's true. I think you feel something, and you're anxious to know exactly what it means. You said when you first met me you felt something, that I was going to be an integral part of your life. When I met you, I felt that way as well, even if I simply assumed it was because of your profession and its usefulness to me. I am happy to admit that I was wrong in my assumption.

I have enclosed two items for you. One item is new, and while you may not use it today I felt you should have it. The other item already belonged to you, and I borrowed it from you when I left after my fall. Technically you could claim I stole it, since admittedly I took it with very little intention of ever returning it except once before I came back, but I suppose now that we will be spending our futures together I don't need it anymore. I have, however, added a playlist to it. I know you well and I am fairly sure you will be awake long before you need to be, so hopefully these songs will soothe nerves and remind you that when the day is over you will have a husband and a permanent life together with someone who loves you greatly.

Until this afternoon,
Sherlock

She smiled even more widely before setting down the card and turning to the box. She undid the ribbon and then took off the paper. There was a lid to the box and she lifted it up. Nestled on top of a jewelry case was the iPod he had taken from her so many years ago. She took the iPod out and went into her bedroom to get her speakers. When she brought it all back out to the table she turned on the music player and looked for the new playlist. It was quite easy to find, as it was labelled “For Molly.” She decided to surprise herself with what was on it and simply let it play without looking at its contents beforehand. The first song came on seconds later and after a few seconds of guitar she heard a familiar voice begin to sing.

When your legs don't work like they used to before
And I can't sweep you off of your feet
Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?
Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

She felt tears come to her eyes as her smile got even wider. Sherlock loathed this song so much. She'd wanted it to be played at their reception and he'd put his foot down and been quite grumpy about it, too. It had been more amusing than it had been irritating, especially when he said the song was the equivalent of audial treacle and would be liable to give him a toothache for that reason and a headache besides. The fact he put the song on there for her to listen to meant he had at least listened to the lyrics enough to know it had a very good meaning.

The song continued and she focused on it completely, ignoring the coffee that she'd so desperately needed not too long before. It had just hit the first chorus when she dashed back into her bedroom to get her mobile. She pulled up Sherlock's number as she walked back to the sitting room and listened to the song while she waited for him to pick up.

When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades
And the crowds don't remember my name
When my hands don't play the strings the same way (mmm...)
I know you will still love me the same

'Cause honey your soul could never grow old, it's evergreen
And, baby, your smile's forever in my mind and memory
I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways
Maybe it's all part of a plan
Well, I'll just keep on making the same mistakes
Hoping that you'll understand

He picked up just as the chorus began again. “Most people would be upset to be woken up with a phone call at four in the morning,” he said. “I, of course, am not most people.”

“I assumed you either hadn't gone to sleep or were already awake,” she said. “Thank you for including the song. I know it's not one of your favorites.”

“I suppose it's a very fitting song for how I feel about our future together,” he said. “Unfortunately.”

She chuckled. “Well, when I'm done listening to it I'll take it off so you don't have to hear it again.”

“But I gave the iPod back to you,” he said in a slightly confused tone. “Whatever music you want on it is your choice.”

“Did you copy the songs on a device for yourself?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“Then I'll transfer the playlist to my own iPod and give it back to you. I want you to have it, Sherlock. If I didn't I would have demanded it back when I went to see you after you got back and you were listening to the orchestral cover of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' on repeat,” she said. “It was quite important to you. I mean, you only considered returning it once.” She paused for a moment. “When was that?”

“Before the last part of my mission, when I was gone after faking my death. When I was in Minsk. Mycroft was fairly sure I wasn't going to make it out of Russia alive and I wanted you to know how much it had meant having it when it was returned to you. I couldn't quite figure out how to tell you, though, so I was going to have you listen to a song.”

“Ah,” she said. “Then you definitely need to have it back, I think.”

There was a pause. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I'm quite sure. I'll make sure it's in my bags before I leave so I can give it to you before our flight.”

“If you insist,” he said.

“I do.”

“Did you enjoy the jewelry?” he asked

Her eyes widened. “I haven't even opened it yet,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Then you might as well do it now,” he said.

She set down her mobile and reached into the box, pulling out the velvet case. It wasn't large enough for a necklace, she thought, and she opened it to see she was right. Inside was a very delicate looking sapphire and diamond bracelet. Each sapphire was surrounded by a silver oval, and on alternating sides a curve was full of diamonds while the other was plain silver. Between each oval were four petal shaped diamonds forming a flower. She picked up the phone again. “It's absolutely stunning, Sherlock.”

“I know brides are supposed to wear something blue and I wasn't sure you had that yet,” he said.

“I feel bad that I don't have anything for you,” she said. “These were both very thoughtful gifts.”

“I don't need anything,” he said. “Just make sure you are there on time today and that you don't leave me waiting at the altar.”

“I promise, I will be there right on time,” she said. “Oh, Sherlock, I do love you. Very much.”

“I love you too, Molly,” he replied, and her heart swelled. “Enjoy the rest of the playlist.”

“I will. I'll see you in a few hours, then.”

“I will see you soon,” he replied, and then he hung up. Molly set her mobile down and then took the bracelet out of the box, fingering it lovingly. She really was the luckiest woman in the world, she realized. And she would make sure Sherlock knew just how much she loved him as often as she possibly could.

What are your life goals?

There was an edge to his nerves. He was usually so good at appearing calm when he wasn't, at letting the world see someone cool and collected no matter how he felt on the inside. But that was not the case today. No, today he was a bundle of nerves and he didn't care who saw it. Many strings had been pulled to ensure they had a memorable wedding so there was pressure for everything to go according to plan. And they fact that they were currently at the secluded hot house at the Barbican and everyone was smirking at him while he felt too hot and as though his tie was too tight wasn't helping. Why was no one else nervous? There was so much to be nervous about.

“Sherlock, stop trying to loosen the tie,” John said, going over and slapping Sherlock's hand away as Sherlock ran his finger along the inside of the shirt collar one more time, and then he straightened the tie again. “I swear, if you keep doing it I'll duct tape your hands behind your back.”

“And I'll be out of the tape in three minutes and back to trying to loosen this bloody thing,” he said, glaring down at his friend.

“Then we'll see if Greg has his handcuffs nearby,” John said.

“I do, you know,” Lestrade piped up from where he was sitting. “I figured since it was Sherlock's wedding I should be prepared. You know, in case it was a repeat of John's.”

Sherlock scowled slightly and opened his mouth to say something but John gave him a look and he stopped. John placed a hand on either one of Sherlock's shoulders. “Do you know why you're so nervous? What all of these nerves mean?”

“Because it's a grand romantic gesture that I helped plan and therefore the likelihood it will blow up in my face is astronomical?” Sherlock said, scowling.

“No,” John said.

“Though he has a point,” Mycroft said from Sherlock's side, not looking up from his mobile. “It's not as though his other grand gestures went well.”

“Not helping,” John said, turning to Mycroft and glaring. “And that phone had best not be anywhere on you while the ceremony is taking place.”

“It will be in Anthea's possession for the duration of the ceremony as well as most of the reception,” Mycroft said with a sigh, looking up. “I may not have the best of relationships with Sherlock but even I know it is not proper to be accepting calls in the midst of my brother's wedding ceremony. Also, I know full well Ms. Hooper would kill me and she'd get away with it because law enforcement would never find my body.”

“In a little less than an hour she's going to be related to you,” Sherlock said as he rolled his eyes. “She has a first name. I suggest you start using it, because there are going to be two Mrs. Holmes in our family and I doubt you want to clarify whether you mean our mother or Molly every time you want to talk about her.”

“I will call her whatever I see fit until she actually becomes Mrs. Molly Holmes,” he said, giving his brother a mild glare before turning back to his phone. “And I was under the assumption she was going to hyphenate her name.”

“No,” Sherlock said. “That was my suggestion, for practical purposes, but she said she would legally change her surname to mine because that was what she wanted to do. I think she plans on doing it the minute we come back from our honeymoon.”

“You're quite lucky to get two weeks in the Bahamas with the weather like this,” Lestrade said, standing up. “I swear, today seems to be the only decent day we've had in a week.”

“Thankfully,” Sherlock said. “It's at least one thing to go well today.”

“The whole thing will go off without a hitch,” John said reassuringly. “And if there are problems they will be dealt with by the wedding planner. That is why you hired one, after all. So just relax and stop fidgeting with the tie.”

“It feels like a noose,” he said in response.

Lestrade chuckled. “That's typical. I tell you, the minute you see Molly walking down the aisle you'll completely forget about how uncomfortable and nervous you are. All you're going to care about is how stunning she is and how unbelievably lucky you got.” He got up from his seat and went over to Sherlock and John. “I've been through it twice, so I should know.”

“I don't want to go through this more than once,” Sherlock said.

“If a woman will deal with keeping the relationship hidden, obtrusive media presence when it's finally revealed and then follow you around the globe so that you can keep her safe, she will stay for the duration of her life,” Mycroft said while he keyed something into his phone. “You can rest assured of that.”

Sherlock looked over at his brother, surprise on his face. “That is actually comforting.”

“And it's not even a lie to put you at ease,” Mycroft said, looking up. “She is the perfect woman for you, and anyone can see that. She will not give you up easily. Just never give her a reason to consider doing so.” He went to the door. “I believe we need to be in our places soon. I will go give this to Anthea now.”

Sherlock watched his brother open the door and leave the room. He did indeed feel calmer. There was still much that could go wrong, but he would just have to push the worry out of his mind and concentrate on the important things and the bigger picture. Today he was vowing to spend the rest of his life with Molly in front of others. He was going to promise to take care of her, to make her happy and be the partner she deserved. And she was going to make the same promises to him. Then a new stage of his life would start, and he knew whatever came with it, he and Molly would face it head on together.

Mycroft came back moments later and nodded towards the area outside the door, and Sherlock, John and Lestrade left the room after him. He had to force himself to not loosen the tie at all as they made their way to where the main ceremony was going to take place. It was filled with life, both human and plant, and he had to admit it all looked tasteful and exotic at the same time. The four of them made their way to the altar and arranged themselves into position. He wasn't quite sure how long it would be until Molly's attendants came down the aisle; since their wedding parties were so small it was felt the best idea that the women get to walk on their own and not with a groomsman. The only exception would be the flower girl, who would walk down the aisle with Archie. Sherlock had insisted on the young boy being a part of his own wedding, much to Molly's amusement, and thankfully Archie was game in exchange for some pictures of blood spatter to analyze. But he knew the older attendants were going to take their time getting to the altar if the rehearsal was any indication. He hoped he could keep his impatience in check.

There was a string quartet to the side, playing various selections of classical music to soothe the guests. There were far more guests there than he had thought there would be when they first began planning the wedding, but when they factored in Molly's large circle of friends, acquaintances and colleagues and Sherlock's own smaller circle, they ended up with nearly sixty guests, not to mention their dates for the occasion. There was only one photographer, the one he and Molly had hired, but he was fairly sure the guests would be taking pictures and video and soon anyone in the world who was curious as to what the end of Sherlock Holmes's bachelorhood would look like would know all the details. The thought annoyed him, but there was really not much he could do to prevent it so he had decided to ignore it.

He knew when the music changed from the Beethoven piece that was being played now to the never before heard in public composition Sherlock had written for the occasion that the women would begin to make their way to the altar. In his head he calculated how long it was until the current song finished. Roughly a minute and a half. With that, the nerves kicked in again and as he lifted his arm to adjust the tie he felt John put a hand on it. “Sherlock, stop fidgeting in front of the guests,” John said quietly.

“It's too tight,” he said back, his voice almost a hiss.

“I will find duct tape,” John said back sharply.

Sherlock sighed and lowered his hand. He concentrated on the song, counting down the seconds until it was finished. When the song finally ended there was silence. Sherlock began to silently panic when the new song didn't start immediately, that there was a delay he hadn't been informed of, or that worst of all Molly wasn't there, that she had left him at the altar after all. But then the beginning chords of the song began to play, and their officiant nodded towards the aisle. The guests in the chairs turned to look down the aisle, and after a moment Sally came walking down the aisle, dressed in a sapphire blue off the shoulder dress that went down mid-calf, a white silk sash around the waist. Molly had been hesitant to include her in the wedding party, because while Sally and Sherlock were on better terms they were still not each others biggest fans, but he hadn't minded. He hadn't realized the two women were so close until after he began to date Molly, but Sally seemed to have warmed considerably towards him once Molly was able to be open about her relationship with him. It certainly made things easier professionally, which he appreciated.

She made her way slowly down the aisle, carrying a single calla lily in her hands. She was almost to the altar when another of Molly's friends began the slow walk down. Her name was Courtney and she had been Molly's roommate when they were in medical school. They had been close but drifted apart until a few years back, and aside from Sally and Mary she was Molly's closest friend. She had red hair and green eyes, which provided an interesting contrast to her blue dress, but she also had a dazzling smile and there seemed to be a warmth exuding from he knew Molly loved being near. He made it a note to tell her to avoid Parks, the lecherous man from the pathology department that Molly had invited, who was leering at her. Perhaps he would find a way to keep Courtney near Dimmock for the evening. The DI seemed to be in awe of her and Sherlock was positive he wouldn't mind keeping the other man away in the slightest.

Finally Courtney made it close to the altar and Mary appeared. He had been moderately surprised Molly had picked her as her maid of honor, considering Molly herself had played no part in John and Mary's wedding aside from the role of guest, but they'd become quite close considering Mary had been the only female Molly was friendly with who had known the truth about their relationship aside from Mrs. Hudson. She had a smile on her face that he initially believed was directed at her husband, but after a moment he realized it was the knowing smile that seemed similar to a smirk that she had when she was keeping a secret. He'd seen it quite a few times when she'd see him after she'd met with Molly for a chat. Instead of irritating him slightly like it usually did it eased his nerves. It was her way of telling him that he was in for something quite spectacular, he realized, and she knew it was going to please him greatly. When she got her face out of view of the guests she gave him a wink before taking her place on Molly's side and his nerves lessened even more. Whatever it was that was coming, it was definitely going to be worth the wait.

Archie and the flower girl, a young blonde girl named Leigh, came down next. Archie looked thoroughly uncomfortable with how adoringly Leigh had looked at him before they came down the aisle, and Sherlock made a mental note to have John give him some other photographs from their files to study while he was on his honeymoon, and to definitely spend an entire day with him when he got back. Perhaps if he could figure out a way to do it he'd take him to a crime scene, if Lestrade and his parents would allow it, or if they wouldn't he might be able arrange something with Molly at her workplace again. She seemed keen to help him in his efforts to teach Archie the ins and out of being a consulting detective. He felt he owed it to the boy because that little girl had him dead in her sights. There was obvious relief on Archie's face when he made it to the altar and moved over to Sherlock's side. And with that, it was time for Sherlock to move forward to wait for Molly.

The music changed slightly, and the crowd of guests stood. Since Molly's parents were no longer alive, she had asked Mrs. Hudson to walk her down the aisle, as she said the woman was like a second mother to her. Mrs. Hudson had burst into happy tears when she'd been asked and had agreed immediately. When he saw Mrs Hudson round the doorway in a dress that was a complimentary shade to the bridesmaids he knew within seconds he would see Molly, and when he saw her he had to consciously not let his jaw drop at how stunning she looked. She had on a strapless white lace dress with a train that was on the floor and a sapphire blue ribbon at her waist, the long tails of the bow laying flat on her left side and the center of the bow secured in place with what appeared to be a circle of silver covered in small white crystals. She had opted not to wear a veil, instead having her hair curled and spilling over one shoulder and held back with a comb. She did not have on a necklace, but there were sapphire and diamond chandelier earrings dangling from her ears and as she got closer he saw she was wearing the bracelet he had given her that morning. That filled him with a sense of happiness that he had not expected. She got closer and closer, and when she finally stood in front of him Mrs. Hudson patted her hand with a wide smile. “I think you'll be all right now,” the older woman said.

Molly leaned over and kissed Mrs. Hudson's cheek. “Thank you so much, Martha.”

Mrs. Hudson smiled widely and then turned to Sherlock. “Oh, you two look quite lovely together,” she said as tears sprung to her eyes.

“I'm glad you approve,” he replied before leaning over and kissing her other cheek. “Thank you for bringing her here.”

“You're quite welcome,” she said. Molly shifted her hold on her bouquet of lilies and white roses to motion for Mary to come forward. Mary did, holding a white handkerchief, and handed it to Mrs. Hudson. She dabbed at her eyes and then went to hand it to Molly, who shook her head. “Won't you need it, dear?”

“I have two of them,” Mary said with a grin.

Mrs. Hudson nodded and then made her way to the seat held for her. Mary gave both Molly and Sherlock a wide smile and a barely visible thumbs up before moving back to her spot. Molly laughed softly and then looked over at Sherlock. “Well?” she asked.

“You look breathtaking,” he said, reaching over for her hands. She grasped them and gave him a squeeze and a wide smile.

“You look quite dashing yourself,” she replied before they both gave the officiant their attention.

While Sherlock was not a religious person Molly was, and so they had agreed to have a ceremony with a religious officiant but they would write and say their own vows. The officiant began his part, talking about love and what it meant, and how the two of them showed it in all that they were. For him being a religious man there was surprisingly little religion in what he said, and Sherlock had surmised that was because of his own religious choices. When he was done he asked if there were any objections to the two of them being joined in matrimony, and the room stayed blissfully silent. Then the officiant told the guests that they had decided to write their own vows and would be sharing them now. Molly looked up at Sherlock with a wide smile, and he ran his thumb over her engagement ring for a moment before he began to speak.

“I, Sherlock Holmes, take you, Molly Hooper, to be my wedded wife. I promise I will keep you safe from harm, that I will always do my best to keep you happy, and that I will never ask you to give up any part of yourself to please me. I will stay with you no matter what, through any sickness and sadness that may enter our lives, through any rough patches we may encounter, and I will celebrate the times of happiness by your side. I will cherish you and honor you and love you until the day I die. This is my promise to you.”

She had begun to tear up as he spoke, and Mary had stepped over with a lace edged handkerchief. She'd let go of one of his hands and dabbed at her eyes, but by the time he finished she was holding both his hands again, giving him a wide smile. She gave them a squeeze, and then she began to speak.

“I, Molly Hooper, take you, Sherlock Holmes, to be my wedded husband. I promise I will keep you safe from harm, that I will always do my best to keep you happy, and that I will never ask you to give up any part of yourself to please me. I will stay with you no matter what, through any sickness and sadness that may enter our lives, through any rough patches we may encounter, and I will celebrate the times of happiness by your side. I will cherish you and honor you and love you until the day I die. This is my promise to you.”

Her voice had caught slightly at the end, and that made it even more special to him, these vows of hers. They turned to the officiant, who signaled for Archie to come forward with the rings. Archie did, holding up the pillow that they were resting on. They were simple bands, but their initials had been engraved on the inside of the bands with today's date. Their officiant told Sherlock to pick up Molly's band. “Place the ring on her finger and repeat after me: with this ring, I thee wed.”

Molly lifted up her hand and he slipped the ring on, pushing it down until it was pressed against her engagement ring. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he said, not taking his eyes off of Molly.

“Molly?” the officiant said. She picked up Sherlock's ring and then turned to Sherlock, looking up at him with a brilliant smile. “Place the ring on his finger and repeat after me: with this ring, I thee wed.”

She looked down at sherlock's hand, and put the ring on his ring finger and slid it down until it was at the base of his knuckle. Then she looked back at Sherlock. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant said. “You may kiss your bride, Sherlock.”

That was all the motivation Sherlock needed to do what he had wanted to do since her phone call at four o'clock this morning. She stepped closer and he reached over to pull her against him before kissing her passionately to the applause of the people gathered there to celebrate with them. It didn't matter that all the eyes were on them, either; Molly didn't move back right away and neither did he, because this kiss was much more important than caring about an audience. Finally they had to pull apart. “How do you feel, Mrs. Holmes?” he asked.

“On top of the world, Mr. Holmes,” she said with a wide smile as the officiant called them by their married names for the first time. Molly stepped back and Mary came over to give her back her bouquet, and then she reached over for Sherlock's hand and grasped it tightly. When his fingers were threaded between hers they began their walk back down the aisle, this time together, as the guests near the aisle showered them with rose petals. They still had to pose for photos before the reception, but so far the most grueling part for him was over. It was official that they were married, and no one could tear them apart.

The rest of the wedding party filed out and the photographer began to gather all of them as well as Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock's parents for the portraits. They were done in as many groupings as the photographer could possibly think of, and it was quite a tedious process to go through. He had hoped this third time, after John and Mary's wedding and then Lestrade's second, it would be easier, but it was worse since he had to be in nearly all of them. Finally they were excused to go so Molly could change into the dress she planned to wear to the reception since the train on her dress would pose problems later. John had tried to dissuade Sherlock from joining her but Molly insisted, and so the two of them finally got their first private moment together since the early morning phone call, and he was glad for that.

“Do I have to keep the tie on?” he asked as they went to the room she had used.

She laughed softly. “Yes, Sherlock. But it looked much too tight to me.” She moved in front of him and adjusted it. “Why didn't you say something to John?”

“I did. Multiple times,” he said, relaxing once she'd gotten it looser. “John and everyone else assumed it was nerves.”

“Well, I'm sorry you had to go through the ceremony feeling as though you were going to be strangled,” she said, moving her hands to his chest when she was done.

He pulled her close against him and looked down at her. “To be honest, I didn't notice it once I saw you start to come down the aisle,” he said. “I was more preoccupied with how stunning you looked than my own discomfort.”

“Well, just think. You'll have pictures to remember it perfectly, even when your memory begins to go,” she said with a smile.

“I'll be damned if I'm ever going to forget that sight,” he said adamantly.

“Did you know I almost stumbled? I'm not used to heels this high,” she said. “I panicked when I realized I would need to wear three inch heels to keep from walking on the front of the dress. I had nightmares about falling before I could reach you.”

“You couldn't get it altered?” he asked.

“Not if I wanted it to look exactly as it was,” she said. “But the one nice thing about heels this high is that I'm almost your height.”

“It is a very interesting experience,” he said with a chuckle. “But there's still a difference.”

“That's why I said almost,” she said before leaning in and kissing him softly. As much as he would have liked to make it more passionate there would be a time and a place for that later. For now he could relish this quiet moment between them and cherish it before everyone was demanding their attention. She pulled away and he rested his forehead against hers. “I do love you, Sherlock. More than I think I can tell you.”

“I know how you feel,” he said. “But I do love you very much.” They stayed like that for a few minutes before Molly physically pulled her body away. She turned her back to him and he got her intent a moment later, pulling down the zipper of her dress. It peeled away from her skin and he saw she was wearing a corset top. “That will be interesting to help remove.”

“Well, thankfully you get to deal with all the hooks now as opposed to in our honeymoon suite,” she said with a laugh. “I have other undergarments for the new dress and the flight, and then something special to change into in the hotel room.”

“I don't think most grooms get three sets of lingerie to admire on their wedding day,” he said in an amused tone, beginning to undo the hooks of the corset. It took some time, but soon it was undone. Molly had been holding the front to her chest, and when he was done she let it drop and reached over to the screen in front of her, getting a strapless bra that had been draped over it and putting it on quickly. He was mildly disappointed he didn't get a different view with less clothing covering his wife, but she turned and he had to admit even covered it was quite a magnificent view. He licked his lips and she blushed slightly. “I am quite lucky that I get to see this every night for the rest of my life.”

“If I get pregnant my body will change, you know,” she said. “I'll probably get stretch marks and I may have some pudge I just can't quite get rid of.”

“And I will still love the view regardless,” he said. “Maybe even moreso, if that's possible.”

She smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss before going behind the screen to change. He had not been privy to this dress either, so it would be a surprise to him. He knew when she had gone shopping for her wedding dress she was going to wear at the wedding she had taken her bridal party, Mrs. Hudson and his mother as well for their input. She'd called him and asked how he felt about her having two different dresses and he said it was her choice what she wore and how many different outfits she had. He knew at the very least that his mother had quite a discerning eye and would have helped pick out something very tasteful and very stunning. She had sometimes cursed the fact she'd had three sons and no daughters when he'd been growing up, and she had loved Molly from the minute he had broken down and finally introduced them. And Molly had been quite pleased with his mother as well. He got the feeling there would be no “monster-in-law” stories from their marriage.

When she emerged she was in another strapless dress, with fabric gathered over the bodice and just underneath the tulle wrapping gathered at the waist to look like feathers. This dress was shorter, about the same length as her bridesmaid's dresses, and not as form fitting since it had a full tulle skirt. The neckline also exposed more cleavage than her actual wedding dress had. “This was the dress your mother and Mary thought I should get married in,” she said as she turned and the skirt flared out slightly. “But I really fell in love with the other dress, so your mother offered to buy this one for me to wear to the reception so no one would ruin the train.”

“She always has had excellent taste,” he said approvingly. She moved to pick up a small shoebox and pulled out a pair of heels and, then sat down in the chair in front of the screen to slip them on. When she was done he moved over towards her, already missing the extra height the other shoes gave her. “I assume these are more comfortable?”

“One inch heels are usually all I can manage without falling on my face,” she said. “I practiced for weeks to walk in the other heels, and they are quite uncomfortable. I got used to them eventually, but I'm glad I can wear something shorter now.”

“As long as you're comfortable,” he said.

“Well, I suppose we should go to our reception now,” she said. “After all, it does no good to celebrate a wedding without the bride and groom.”

“I know people who wouldn't care where we are, but our wedding planner is not one of them,” he said. “She's probably wondering what's taking us so long.”

“Mmm, I think some people are assuming we're having a quick shag to get a jump on our wedding night,” she said thoughtfully.

“And why aren't we again?” he asked, pulling her close.

“Because it would ruin my hair and make-up and both our outfits, and there's still a photographer around taking pictures?” she said with a soft chuckle.

“I knew there was a logical reason,” he said, nodding and eliciting a warm laugh from her. “Very well. But since we've been treated to a private plane to reach our destination, courtesy of my brother, I may only keep my hands off of you until we're in the air.”

“So he did come through?” she asked with wide eyes. He nodded in response. “I have absolutely no problem with those plans, then. But for now, keep it to a minimum.”

“Yes, dear,” he said, getting another laugh and a quick peck on the cheek. She pulled away from him, extending her hand towards him, and then when he took it she led him back to where their reception was being held. The wedding planner was there, looking at her watch, and once she spotted them she began giving directions to people over handheld radio before waiting by the door. Then she opened it as they were formally introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. They walked inside, hand in hand, and made their way to the tables where the wedding party was situated. They sat down and then the speeches began. John made an excellent best man's speech, though Molly did lean over and say Sherlock's had been much more entertaining, eliciting a small chuckle from Sherlock and a frown from John. The other speeches were also quite nice, even Mycroft's, which was quite eloquent. Sherlock told Molly he was 99.9% sure someone else had written it for him since Mycroft was only eloquent when he was trying to manipulate someone. Molly had said it was probably Anthea, but Sherlock had his own thoughts that it might have been a gift of sorts from Irene that Mycroft had been the one to deliver.

Finally came the food and then it got to the part he had been both dreading and looking forward to: his first dance with his wife. He had asked to keep the song selection a secret from Molly, and she had agreed to it after he explained that he knew it was a song she liked and she thought fit their relationship well, but it was just a different version. They made their way to the dance floor and he kept her close, one hand on her waist and the other holding her hand up and to the side slightly. It was quiet for a moment, and then the piano notes began, followed a moment later by the violin. He began to move them around the floor as she gave him a questioning glance, but it melted away when the vocalist began.

Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave?
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?
But watching you stand alone,
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow.

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

“Oh, Sherlock,” she said quietly, moving closer to him as the song began to swell to the chorus. “This is such a beautiful version of this song.”

“I know you like enjoyed this particular song, and when I ran across this version while looking for Lindsey Stirling songs I didn't have I thought it was appropriate,” he said.

“It's perfect,” she said, resting her cheek on his chest.

Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Every breath
Every hour has come to this

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

He glanced out at the people watching them. It was clear that they were listening to the song, taking in the lyrics and realizing what they meant to Molly, to him. Music had connected the two of them from the moment he asked her to distract him with music the day he faked his death and he had asked her to sing the last lines of “Samson.” It was such an intrinsic part of their relationship, and this song said so perfectly everything he wanted her to know, everything he wanted the world to know. And while they all understood, the fact that she had said it was perfect meant more to him than anything else.

One step closer

One step closer

She stopped swaying as much, lifting her head up and looking up at him intently. “I love you so much, Sherlock,” she said quietly.

“I love you too, Molly,” he said before leaning in and kissing her, the music surrounding them as they focused solely on each other and this perfect moment.

I have died every day waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

Comments

[cherrytide.livejournal.com]

This is lovely! I enjoyed Sherlock and Molly's developing relationship and the creative use of the questions and music in it - Sherlock analysing Molly's ipod collection to understand her better, and him giving her his violing were two of my favourite moments. I liked the role of Mycroft and Irene here too - helping Sherlock to realise what he really wants and progress in his relationship. And were there slight hints of Mycroft/Irene going on?

The wedding was gorgeous too, as are the graphics. Great story!

[scandalbaby.livejournal.com]

I'm really glad you liked it! Him giving her the violin was definitely one of my favorite stories, too. And I had a lot of fun matching questions with story ideas. And yes, there is implied Mycroft/Irene in this, because it's one of my other ships that I adore and I thought would be fun to hint at.

Thank you so much for taking the time to comment!