60 Ways to Say Goodbye - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Eighteen

Hello! It's been a while since I posted! I've been busy with school stuff, but I'm back now!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

Vomment (vote/comment), fan, and spread the word!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 18

Sherlock was starting to get bored.

It had been a week since our engagement and the initial excitement was over. There was loads of planning to do and a few press interviews.

As soon as the press found out about Sherlock and I, everyone was looking to talk to us. We were even being talked about in France, America, Germany, and other countries. Sherlock and I agreed to talk to a few different people, but we both found it tedious.

Sherlock needed a case. London seemed to have nothing to offer him. He was becoming distant. One day he said nothing at all. Just sat staring at the wall.

"John, I'm bored," he complained to me this morning.

"Well, we'll have to fix that," I said. "What do you want to do?"

"I want a murder," Sherlock told me.

"We can't do anything about that...hopefully," I said.

Sherlock made a noise of disapproval.

"Well, I have to get a tux for our wedding," I told him. "You're welcome to come with me."

Sherlock looked to be considering my offer. Finally he sighed, "Fine."

He rolled off the couch and dragged his feet into the bedroom to get dressed.

Moments later he came out wearing black pants and a navy button up shirt. He looked so gorgeous.

When Sherlock found me staring at his toned body, he smirked. "Ready, John?"

I looked up into his eyes. "Yeah, sorry," I said shaking my head. I grabbed my coat and lead the way down the stairs.

We didn't need to get a cab. Living in central London granted us access to most of the stores in the city.

While we walked, Sherlock asked me, "Are you going to invite your sister?"

"No, I suppose not," I said.

"Why not?" Sherlock looked puzzled.

"Well, are you inviting Mycroft?" I retorted.

"Yes, actually," Sherlock informed me.

"Good for you, then," I mumbled.

"John, don't you think she wants to see her only brother get married?" Sherlock asked. Since when did he become so conscious as to how people worked?

"I guess she would want to come," I found myself agreeing.

"Then why don't you ask her?" Sherlock urged.

"Fine," I pulled out my phone and texted Harry.

'I'm getting married, would you like to come to our wedding?'

Less than a minute later, she replied:

'I didn't know you had a girlfriend.'

Someone hasn't been reading the papers. This showed how little she knows me.

'I don't. I'm getting married to Sherlock.'

It took her a bit longer to respond this time, but when she did, the message read: