Distasteful Profession

Somebody still loves you...

John never ended up going back in. He would have nothing to live for overseas. He was afraid of that thought. Rosie was growing up and she remembered the presence of another parental figure, but John always said it was Greg or Mycroft. They never really talked about Sherlock at all. So, whenever she could Rosie would ask questions of how does John know Mycroft and why he invited a Ms Irene Adler to a Christmas party when he didn't like her at all. Why didn't he like her? She was such a smart young lady. She was turning five soon and her 'auntie' Euros was getting married. Mycroft invited John and her to the wedding and at first, he said, "hell no." And slammed the door in his face, but after a while, he decided he'd do it, he said to keep his mind off of someone.

Rosie was in school, smartest in her class, so now she was in first grade. The teacher had called her name and told her that her father was there to pick her up for the wedding. She happily skipped through the hallway and stopped in her tracks as she saw a tall man standing in the lobby, waving to her happily. "You're not my daddy." She said. "Kind of, but I'm close enough. Come on, Rosie; we're going to the wedding." The man said. He was approaching her and she did the only thing she knew was right; she screamed for help. "He's trying to take me!!" She squealed in terror that the man knew wasn't real. "Sociopaths," He muttered. He put his hands up when a teacher ran out to confront him. "I want to call Mycroft!" He shouted. The teacher stopped and the man took out his phone to call someone. "Mycroft. Yes. I thought you said you'd keep me in her mind. Well, now I'm late for my wedding and I might get arrested. Send Greg down. Oh, shut up." He then hung up. Rosie was quiet. She only tilted her head. "You know Uncle Greg?" She asked. The man only nodded his head and she didn't know why, but she just wanted to tell him about stuff. "Auntie Euros is getting married today." She asked again. "Nope," He answered. "My daddy's not that old, but he has to walk with a cane. Isn't that funny?" She commented, not even looking at the man. "I traumatized him that much?" The tall man sighed with a chuckle and Rosie didn't understand the joke, but she nodded anyway.

Greg Lestrade soon showed up alone. Rosie ran up to jump into his arms. "You started smoking again," she stated with a sour look of disapproval. "You're way too smart!" Greg laughed as he spun Rosie around near his chest. "Those things will kill you, you know?" The man stated flatly, stepping out into the light. "Oooh, you bastard!!" Greg said. He put Rosie down and ran to him to squeeze a hug from him. "Sherlock, you bloody arse!" Greg began to cry as he nuzzled his face into the crook between his neck and shoulder. "Have you told him yet?" Greg asked as he looked Sherlock in the eye.

"Sherlock, you weren't there. You weren't called in by Mycroft to take away all of the sharp objects or confiscate his gun. He tried so many times, Sherlock. He desperately wanted to be dead, because you were. Now, he refuses to ride in a taxi or go into Bart's hospital." Greg sighed, "He's going to hate you once he finds out you're not, though." Greg explained. "Oh, come on! I'm fine!" Sherlock promised, "He's going to jump into my arms when he sees me!" Sherlock said dreamily. Greg rolled his eyes and called John to tell him that he picked up Rosie and was bringing her to the wedding. John was thankful since he still had a lot of running around to do. "So, why now? Why today?" Greg asked after he hung up with John. "Well, we're getting married, John and I," Sherlock said, looking out the window of the cab. Greg laughed, making Sherlock raise his eyebrow. "What? What's wrong? Did I say something funny?" Sherlock asked, turning to look questioningly at Greg. "Mate, you know that he's not going to do it; in fact, the one thing I'm sure he'll do is to beat the bloody piss out of you! I bet you 25 Quid." Greg bargained and continued to laugh, causing Sherlock to pout as he looked out the window again, more frustrated now.

They made it to the wedding where Rosie was to be the flower girl and John was to stand up at the altar facing the opposite side of the crowd, standing next to the 'Groom.' The music started playing and John was twisting his ring on his finger, wishing that Sherlock were here, telling him this whole event was utter, "Preposterous," a low, baritone voice sounded from behind John as he felt the strong and overwhelmingly powerful presence fill the space between John and the man behind him. John's breath hitched as his eyes began mass-producing tears. "John," he heard it. He was there, right behind him. John slowly raised his head and very cautiously turned to look over his shoulder. "John...!" Sherlock smiled. "Prick...!" John's face strained into a heavy frown and Sherlock's face dropped a bit. Before Sherlock could respond, John's fist had already forced a strong, painful connection with Sherlock's nose. Sherlock stumbled back a bit, stunned. "John, I-!" He tried, but again, John had punched the taller man in the face this time connecting it to his mouth, surely making his teeth shift back a bit and his gums left to bleed. This punch was enough to knock Sherlock off of his feet. Greg had quickly gotten to his feet to hold John back before the angry man could trap Sherlock with his legs and beat the piss out of him. John was kicking and screaming as Sherlock struggled up. He felt his top lip. "My nose; it's- it's bleeding! You punched me in the nose, John-!" Sherlock was only shocked until he remembered Miss Irene Adler's words during the case they had shared. At that moment, he took a good look at John. The man looked like he wanted to kill Sherlock, and Sherlock couldn't say that he didn't deserve it. "Shut the fuck up, Sherlock! I'm going to kill you right this time! Who do you think you are?! Pulling a Bloody Mary, like that?! I love you, and You killed yourself to get out of marrying me, you scumbag!!! Screw you, arsehole!!" John was screaming at the heavens, cursing Sherlock for all he'd done. "I didn't kill myself to get out of marrying you, John!" Sherlock retorted, "I did it to save you! If not, you, Rosie, and Gavin-" "-Greg-!" "-Whatever- you all would've died, then and there! And don't talk to me about Mary! Because she left to be with someone else! I was sent, by Mycroft, to be tortured in Ukraine for three years, for Christ sakes!" Sherlock shouted, growing angrier with every accusation he confronted from his fiancée.

When he shouted, it would never fail to turn a moment of anger between the two into lust. John finally struggled his way out of Greg's arms and the whole room was quiet when John ran up and pulled Sherlock down with a powerful kiss. At the feeling of Sherlock's bow shaped lips on his again after three painstaking years. John's knees went weak. Sherlock noticed that and went down to the floor with him. He deepened the kiss as he brought his hand up to caress John's cheek. At that, John released a long overdue moan. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and was ravishing the taller man's hair with his hands. When they finally broke away, John continued to place very sloppy kisses all over Sherlock's face. The recipient could only laugh and wrap his arms around the shorter man's torso in a hug.

Anderson had been recording on his camera phone since Sherlock walked into the room. "The girls at the fan club are going to love this; except Hannah - Fucking bitch...!" He muttered immaturely under his breath.