Marriage and Mental Illness (Sequel to Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles)

Christmas on the Beach

John's POV

Christmas Eve

"Love, are you almost ready?" I straightened my tie again, throwing a glance over my shoulder. Sherlock called back a response from the bathroom, where he had been getting ready. The Christmas Ball was supposed to start in just a few minutes, at the museum in town. I had been surprised by the location, though it had apparently been quite obvious to Sherlock that Alex and Carrie were the socialites of the town.

Sherlock finally came out of the bathroom, remarking on his new suit that we'd bought in Nice. I turned around, grabbing my wallet from the dresser. I stopped dead when I saw him. It had been a few weeks since we'd gotten it, so I'd forgotten how good it looked on him. "What?" He asked, fiddling with the cuffs.

The suit pants were made of a deep black material, fitting nicely against his lean legs. The crisp white undershirt contrasted with the deep burgundy jacket. And he looked absolutely stunning in it. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, even as he asked again. "What?" I cleared my throat, finally peeling my gaze up enough to look him in the eye.

"You look..." I trailed off, looking for the right word. I took my hands out of my pocket and crossed them over my chest. Sherlock's brow raised, watching as I searched for the right words. I licked my lips, moving closer to him.

"Sexy," I finished, reaching up to kiss him. I placed my hands on either side of his face, feeling it warm in response to my comment.

"I am Sherlock Watson-Holmes, the consulting detective. I am not sexy," he scoffed, though the tip of his ears had gone red.

"Really? The way you look in that suit says otherwise." I placed a kiss on his jaw, drawing away. He sighed, exasperated, though the twinkle in his eye had not yet left. "Damn you, John." I grinned again, reaching out my hand. He took it, rolling his eyes playfully, a wide smile splitting across his face. He couldn't pretend to genuinely be mad at me.

The museum was a short walk from the condo, the path filled with the twinkling Christmas lights. A few other people were out on the streets, all heading towards the museum. The museum itself was decked out in lights, the faint chime of Christmas music floating out.

We walked up the steps, and into the museum. The museum had a ballroom, where the party was held. The sight was magnificent, absolutely stunning.

Glowing garlands were strung all around the room, casting a magical glow over it. The ceiling arched high overhead, decorated wreaths of all shapes and sizes hung on the wall. A Christmas Tree that nearly touched the ceiling stood tall in the corner. The men were dressed in suits and tuxes of varying colors, while the women were clad in sweeping gowns of silk and gossamer. Christmas music was being played by a live band, giving the whole atmosphere an air of both innocence and wisdom.

"Wow," I breathed, taking in the glorious sight. Sherlock nodded in agreement, craning his neck in order to see it all. Our arms were linked together as we began making our way to the Christmas tree. Carrie had informed us that the only necessary thing to get in was a present for the tree. Apparently, all of the presents would get sent to kids in need.

It was lovely, to see the entire community, and others, come together and give so much. As we neared the tree, it became apparent as to how large it really was. It towered high, decorated with ornaments and strings of light and popcorn.

Sherlock placed the wrapped gift with the rest of what must've been hundreds, matching the number of people in the ballroom. "Sherlock, John!" A familiar female voice drifted from behind. We both turned to find Carrie in a sweeping floor-length gown of emerald. Her face glowed as she pulled us both in for a hug, remarking on our appearance.