Falling (fem!lock au)

Sherlock had picked out the ring weeks ago.

It was perfect, a thin silver band with the word forever etched on the inside.

She already knew Joan's ring size, had deduced it the day after they met, and already knew when she was going to ask.

It was all lined up amazingly.

Like an immaculate tower of cards.

Oh but it only takes a push of the wind to blow down even the highest tower.

And how it would blow.