After The Fall || A Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 18 - Wedded Bliss

Jemima awoke to the sound of a boiling kettle from the kitchen drifting through the bedroom door, which was standing slightly ajar. She sighed sleepily and blinked a few times, getting used to the daylight. She was suddenly aware that Sherlock wasn't lying next to her but just assumed it was him working the kettle. His side of the bed was still warm. He couldn't have been awake long. Her phone buzzed on the beside table next to her and she shuffled over under the warm duvet and picked it up with clumsy hands. It was a text from Sherlock. With a quick finger stroke she opened it and grinned. She spotted the last text from the night before the wedding.

Goodnight Miss Jones - SH

Underneath it was the latest message.

Good morning Mrs Holmes - SH

Jemima smiled giddily and replied hastily.

Same to you husband - JH

"I made breakfast! " Sherlock shouted from the next room. She stood up quickly and got a sudden wave of dizziness and had to sit down again quickly. Her mind hadn't quite switched into 'awake' mode yet. She stretched like a lazy cat across a sofa and yawned as she plodded sleepily into the kitchen wearing a slightly too big shirt of Sherlock's as a nightdress and one of his old dressing gowns. She wrapped it round herself with one hand, breathing in his scent that still lingered on it. Her other hand reached up to inspect her bedhead and she hastily combed it through with her fingers, wincing as they hit tight matted knots that had seemed to have appeared overnight as if by magic. Sherlock seemed to be in an unusually cheery mood as he placed two small plates of warm chocolate croissants on the table and sat down.

"Yum." She said, sliding into the chair next to his and immediately grabbing one of the hot pastries. "I feel strange, I'm Mrs Holmes now. It hasn't really sunk in yet I don't think."

"I don't like wearing the ring much. I never wear rings." Sherlock added, flidding with the gold band on his finger with an expression of distaste.

"You'll get used to it." She said through a mouthful of croissant.

Suddenly, the noise of sheep came from inside Sherlock's trouser pocket.

"What the hell was that? That's the second time this morning!" Sherlock exclaimed, pulling out his phone and staring at it in disbelief. Jemima burst into giggles.

"Was this you?" He frowned. "God I hate you."

"No you don't!" She giggled back in a singsong voice.

"How do you know?" He smirked.

"Well, for one, you're smiling at me." She pouted. "It's just the ringtone, you can change it back easily. What was the text anyway?"

Sherlock opened the text and stopped. He felt shivers of fear trickle up and down his spine.

Hi chaps! I'm back! - JM

He took a deep, nervous breath and handed the phone to Jemima without a word. Her blood ran cold and she almost dropped the mobile.

"I'm going to Scotland Yard." Sherlock suddenly announced, taking back his phone and standing up. "I need to tell Lestrade."

"Do you have to do it now?" Jemima stared up at him, worried that he would be launching himself into danger. She hung on to his arm slightly.

"There's no time to lose. The more time we waste, the more time he has to plan things." Sherlock told her, shrugging on his coat and sweeping out the door.

Jemima watched him go, helpless. She couldn't follow him all the way to Scotland Yard unless she wanted the whole team, including Donovan, to see her in her pyjamas. She ran into the bedroom quickly to get ready, hoping to catch up with him. She threw on an outfit as swiftly as she could and tied her hair back. She was just about to leave when a loud crashing sound came from the sitting room. She heard their front door fall to the carpet with a deafening thud. The sound of unfamiliar footsteps jerked her brain into action and she instinctively threw herself under the large double bed and tried to keep her terror to a minimum. She lay on her front, hardly daring to breathe. She turned her head slightly to one side and saw a pair of shiny black shoes clump past. The feet suddenly stopped right next to the bed just as Jemima had to breathe out. Before she could think the owner of the shiny shoes had pulled her out from under the bed. She wrenched herself from his tight grip, her army training was serving her well. She threw enough punches to take him out and made to run before two more thugs burst into the bedroom. They quickly overpowered her, as she was quite small and suddenly the coarse material of a gag was being thrust between her teeth and tied tightly around her head. He hands and ankles were bound by unyielding, strong, plastic cable ties. The men left her tied on the floor for a second while they revived their comrade and the three of them then dragged her down the stairs. Mrs Hudson must have been at the shops. She kicked out at the men and at the walls to try and make some noise but that didn't last long before she was knocked over the head with a heavy, balled-up fist and rendered unconscious.