It Can Be Arranged

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"Do you fancy Miss Holmes?" Harriet asked her brother, sipping from her wine glass. Her brother sputtered, having to put his tea down because of the sudden question.

"W-What?" John stammered, mentally cursing himself when Harriet, or Harry as he liked to call her, smiled proudly.

"Do you fancy Sherlock Holmes?" She asked again, more carefully. John swallowed, a single bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

"No." John said, the answer seeming quite unreal to even John himself. At this, Harriet's smile faltered slightly.

"So...nothing?" Harriet asked, just to clarify. John shook his head.

"Nope." He said, popping the P.

The Watsons stayed silent for a few long minutes, the atmosphere dense with awkwardness. John seemed to be deep in thought while Harriet was slightly crestfallen. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to invite him to dinner, she thought.

"Okay, so maybe I do. A little bit." John admitted, making Harriet's smile return almost instantly.

"Would you like me to plan out a date for you two?" She said, leaning forward in her chair.

"Um.." John hesitated. "I don't think-"

"You don't have to! Just leave it all to me. But promise me something." Harriet said seriously. John turned his head slightly in confusion.

"You let me be the bridesmaid for the wedding." She said, making John's face turn a bright shade of pink.

"Shut it."

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