Human Error

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was just short of three hours from the church in Somerset to Brighton. Mycroft had organised and paid for the limo from the ceremony and back to London as an apology for not coming to the wedding. Not that John had complained, he didn't really want him there in the first place, the ghoul; getting the transport had only sweetened the deal, though he had suspected Sherlock may have talked him into it. They had left straight from the reception to the retreat in Brighton for, what John had suspected, a long night's sleep. No one ever tells you that. It's all romanticised. "Spending your first night together as husband and wife" but in reality he was too buggered from the events of the day.

He'd imagine that Mary wouldn't be up for anything either. She had fallen asleep before they had even left Somerset. She had obviously worked herself into a fluster planning and organising the wedding and the incredible come-down had left her utterly knackered. She could use it though.

Her and the baby.

Damn it. Why had Sherlock dropped that on them when he did? He could have waited until they at least got back and not leave them thinking about it during their honeymoon. It's not like it wasn't exciting. John had always wanted this, hadn't he? A beautiful wife, a stable job at a surgery, a charming townhouse flat and now a baby on the way? He had to admit it was all happening rather quickly. Perhaps that was the cause for the butterflies.

As Mary snored delicately on his shoulder, John listened to the rain softly patter on the roof of the limo as they drove off into the night. Is that why Sherlock had left early? John looked all over for him before they did the big send off but he was no where to be found. He had heard from one of the waitstaff that he'd left shortly after the first dance. He probably couldn't handle the mingling and smiled gently as he remembered Sherlock making up lame excuses for not coming to a birthday gathering of his a few years back. The smile had left as soon as it came though when that brought back another memory of Greg bringing over an uncut version of that lame-excuse video Sherlock had made for him and where he had been when he'd watched it.

He slid down in his chair, trying his best not to disturb his slumbering wife and tried to catch a few winks himself. His mind travelled to the earlier events of the evening. The ceremony, the photos, the food he never got to try. A smile crossed his face as he reflected on Sherlock's speech. For someone not particularly gifted with sentiment, he had done a remarkable job. Molly had even come up to confess that she had been deathly worried that Sherlock was going to ruin the day with some awful thing but he didn't. He really pulled through.Today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved. In short, the two people who love you most in all this world. I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that.

Blissfully, he even thought to Sherlock doing that ridiculous dance up and down the tables as he tried to solve a murder at his wedding. His wedding. Only Sherlock could recognise, deduce and solve a murder before it even happened. And only Sherlock could bring a murder to John's wedding. He thought back to him mumbling and talking for the sake of talking. How that git loves the sound of his own voice. Once he had clearly stated 'Vatican Cameos', Sherlock had stolen all of John's attention. He focused on every single detail of the detective in case there was a signal he needed to react to. John could see him slip to and from his mind palace as he pick apart the guests. He had always loved the man's brilliance, especially in the height of danger. The only thing he could remember him saying though was 'You. It's always you, John Watson. You keep me right."

That one sentence replayed in his mind as he tried to fall into a short slumber. He had tried everything to get the detective out of his head but usually, whenever he had tried, it was to no avail. He spent the whole drive trying to focus on Mary and the three weeks ahead of honeymoon ahead of him. There's no place for Sherlock here.