Lost Girl 🔍 (Sherlock x Reader) [EDITING]

Chapter 39: Murder Mystery Wedding

Hey guys! I hope you had as much fun reading the last part as I did writing it, I loved that part and I hope y'all did to!

This is a long one, terribly sorry for that.

Anyway, welcome to the Murder Mystery Wedding (featuring. Murder! John's 'done' face! Ms. Hudson's hat! And last but not least, YOU!).

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Sherlock's POV

The wheels continuously turn in my head, and I realize that I cannot stop them, even though part of me wants to. Oh what the hell? When did a little taste of the game hurt anybody?

The champagne glass finally shatters on the ground after I'd been watching it in slow motion. I look down at it, "Ooh... sorry."

Mycrofts voice lingers around my head. Something is going to happen - right here.

I try to shake him out of my thoughts, but I find myself frantically looking around, desperate to find something that could shut him up. Just solve the bloody thing Sherlock so we could all go home smiling and laughing. 

"Now... where were we?" 

Could be any second. You have control of the room. Don't lose it.

I feel a harsh squeeze on my hand, and looked down to see (Y/N) looking at my with confused eyes. I have her a reasurring squeeze back before releasing her hand. "Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech – get off early, leave 'em laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind. But for now..."

Swiftly, I jump over the table, placing one hand on it to hold me up. The guests gasp in surprise, but I elect to ignore them, trying to ignore (Y/N)'s icy glare burning a hole in the back of my head. I'm sorry (Y/N), Mary, John. I thought, and pressed on for the safety of not only my friends but everyone in the room.

"Part two is more action-based. I'm gonna... walk around, shake things up a bit." I flick between person to person, the word "Mayfly Man" hanging around all but Archie's head. "Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding? Well, everyone. Weddings are great! Love a wedding." I said, trying my best to sound convincing that this was all part of the speech. Nobody was buying it. Shit.

"And John's great, too! Haven't said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his... jumpers..." I continue to pace, hands clasped behind my back. "...and he can cook. Does... a... thing... thing with peas... once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. But he's got a great singing voice... or somebody does." I saw (Y/N) blush, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear but never taking her eyes off of me. Her fists were clenched, but not out of anger, she obviously knew something was wrong. 

"Ahh... to many, too many, too many, TOO MANY!" The word now surrounds me, overwhelming be and sucking me down into a dark hole of unsolved cases. "Sorry... uhm... too many jokes about John!"

Extraordinary lengths. There was Mycroft again. All of which is suggestive of...?

"...murder..." I muttered, but quickly realizing my mistake as the rest of the guest's jaws dropped a tiny bit. "Sorry, did I say 'murder'? I meant to say 'marriage' – but, you know, they're quite similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other, and it's over when one of them's dead. In fairness, murder is a lot quicker though, Geoff!" I say urgently, swiftly walking over to Lestrade while whipping out my phone.

"It's Greg."

"The loos, please." I say, quickly typing Lock this place down, and sending it to Lestrade.