Only Yours

9 part 1

Sherlock's P.O.V

It has been three months since John left me in that taxi to go and visit Mary.

We have not mentioned it. Neither of us have brought up the scrapbook or the argument or the fact that I am desperately in love with him.

Baker Street is mostly silent. I spend most nights crouched outside his door, listening to him breathing as I did when he thought I was dead. Counting down the days until he leaves.

He leaves tomorrow. He gets married tomorrow.

Mary (yes, I finally learnt her name. It was upsetting John that I kept calling her Marge) told me that as January was John's favourite month, she had chosen to get married in it. I knew she was lying, John's favourite month is clearly December, but she was trying to tell me that she and John are soul mates and how perfect they are for each other. She knows how desperately I love him but she has nothing to worry about; John could never love me. Why?

He's not gay.

He will never forgive me for leaving him.

He loves Mary.

Perhaps she feels threatened. But for whatever reason, Mary has decided to do all the wedding planning at Baker Street. And it is killing me.

I have tried distracting myself, but after that case with William Sherlock i heard nothing from 'Moriarty'. But the note did say that it would take over two years before anything else happened.

'John, did you confirm the band?' She frets, running her hands through her short blonde hair as John gives a little shrug and grins at me. I always thought John's type were brunettes.

One of my raven curls falls in front of my face and I blush at the significance, quickly brushing it back. Mary glares at me and very deliberately turns to John.

'I know you said you had chosen a best man, but have you asked him yet?' John looks slightly puzzled.

'I haven't asked him but I'm pretty sure that he knows that he will be chosen.'

I lay my head against the back of my chair and debate going to my room as i genuinly cannot take it anymore, but that would make John suspicious and I don't want to get in an argument with him today, not on the day before he leaves.

'Well he needs to write a speech. I hope Mike has already started on it.' Ah. Mike. I knew that I was not John's best friend but the conformation leaves me with a strange feeling of depression that I recognise from my early teens.

'No, not Mike.' I raise my head and speak for the first time in days. 'Lestrade?' he shakes his head and I run through the rest of his friends. 'Connor?' his best friend at work. 'Samuel?' his old school friend. 'Mycroft? Moriarty? Jesus. Not Anderson.'

His eyes meet mine, searching. 'You are joking right? Of course you are my best man, I mean you are my best friend.'

Mary's P.O.V

I can't believe that John has chosen that man to be his best man.

Sherlock immediately breaks into the biggest smile I have ever seen on his face and jumping up, he pulls John into a bone crunching hug.

The sexual tension is there immediately.

I have always suspected that John and Sherlock have had sex, and now it becomes clear to my trained eye. John has his arms wrapped around Sherlock's thin shoulders and is holding him very close, but far away enough that their chests are barely touching. Sherlock's groin comes into contact with John's and they both jump away, smoothing down their clothes. They don't want the other to know what they were thinking.