I just wrote this two hours ago, because of "Rat. Wedding. Bow." I don't think that there are any fanfics about those three things yet. There could be some mistakes, because I wrote this very fast. so if you find any, just let me know.
It's the first Saturday in June. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, little white clouds are chasing each other across the clear blue sky. It's not as cold as it was these past few months, but it's not as hot as it will be very soon.
There's this little chapel in one of the quieter districts of London. It's white, surrounded by flowers and shrubs and small trees. There are around fifty people standing in front of the entrance. If someone were to climb to the top of the steeple and then look down, they would see a sea of pastel-coloured hats, all in pink and blue and green.
Laughter fills the air. Children are running around the churchyard, people who haven't seen each other in a long time exchange stories. There is even a small puppy, wearing a little pink bowtie.
One person is standing a few feet away from the rest. It's a tall, lean man, whose black curls are moving slightly in the warm June breeze. He is wearing a dark suit, but neither a bowtie nor a tie. He is holding a top hat in one hand. His sharp eyes wander around, observing everything and everyone. Sometimes he shakes his head slightly, as if he disapproves of something.
A car pulls up next to the church. A woman gets out. She looks beautiful in her white wedding dress, her long blonde hair tied back in a fancy knot. Her usually pale cheeks are slightly reddened. She is smiling, as if she was the happiest person on this planet.
Sherlock huffs at the sight of her. He doesn't like Mary Morstan very much. He doesn't understand what John sees in her. She's dull, a teacher. Her idea of a nice evening is dinner and cinema. Boring! Moreover, she's really annoying. She only ever talks about cats and clothes and what she would buy if she had a lot of money. Sherlock suspects that John isn't so much attracted to Mary, but to the kind of life she represents. A dull, mundane life. Two children, a dog, a house, a family car. But who can blame him, really? After the war and after the three years of living with Sherlock it's only too understandable that John yearns for a bit of security.
The throng of people outside the church start to move, as they all turn around at the same time and make their way inside. Sherlock smiles faintly, dons his top hat, turns around, and walks away from the church and all the people inside.
John is nervous. He hasn't been this nervous in a long time. Actually, he can't remember ever being this nervous before. He looks at Greg. Greg is smiling at him encouragingly. And that's the reason why he is John's best man and not Sherlock. Because Sherlock wouldn't know what to do. Weddings aren't really his area. John even has had second thoughts about inviting Sherlock in the first place, especially after the rehearsal. Since John's proposal to Mary, he and Sherlock have drifted apart. John had thought that Sherlock was his friend, that Sherlock would always be there to support him and to respect his wishes, but John has overestimated Sherlock.
But today, John is happy. Today, nothing can drag him down. It's his wedding day, after all. He doesn't want to think about Sherlock. All he can think about is his new life that's going to start today. His new life with Mary.
And then the church gates open and Mary is walking down the aisle towards him. Hastily, John straightens his bowtie and puts on a smile. So, this is it. He's really going to marry Mary.
John knows that he should be happy. But something is missing. Wait! Where's Sherlock? He can't see Sherlock anywhere. Still, that's not it. He can't quite put his finger on it.
And then it hits him. Suddenly he realises that he's going to miss it – the danger, the crime fighting, the running, the body parts in the fridge, and Sherlock. Especially Sherlock. His heart starts beating faster and there's a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Could it be panic? Or even fear? Maybe this whole wedding thing is a big mistake. Nothing is going to be the same after this. He isn't sure if he has put enough thought into it. He isn't sure if he's just panicking or if he really shouldn't get married. Only, it's too late now.
That's when the screaming starts. Because all of a sudden the church floor is black with big, black sewer rats. John has never seen so many rats in his life. He doesn't know what to do. All he can do is stand there, while his and Mary's families are trying to get away from the fast moving sea of fur and tails. Some are trying to climb onto the church benches; others are trying to reach the entrance. If this wasn't his wedding, John would start laughing at this sight.
Only, this isn't funny at all. What are all the rats doing here? How did they manage to get inside the church? Again, John looks at Greg whose face mirrors John's emotions exactly. John takes a deep breath and tries to put it all together. He should forget about the wedding for a moment! And he should forget about the doubts! And then he remembers.
"John!" Mary shrieks, trying to run towards him, her hair coming undone.
It's not a cry for help. Mary's voice is full of anger and hatred. Because there's nothing in the whole wide world that Mary despises more than big, black sewer rats. And apparently she understood sooner than John what the meaning of all this is.
"John!" Mary shouts again. "This is his fault! And yours! Why did you let him do this to us? He has ruined our wedding day! MY wedding day! This was supposed to be my wedding! I've dreamed of this day since I was four years old! And he's ruined it!"
John doesn't know what he's doing. But before he can stop himself, he's grinning. And then he takes a bow.
Mary stops, shocked, and stares at her fiancé. John turns his back on Mary and starts to run. He just runs towards the back door. Mary's shrill voice follows him, but he doesn't look back.
"John Hamish Watson! If you leave me now, that's it! I'm never taking you back! Do you hear me?"
John does hear her. But he would never dream of staying.
John is climbing up the stairs, two at a time. He's going to make Sherlock pay for this. He opens the door so fast that it hits the wall. Sherlock is lying on the sofa on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
"Sherlock! What were you thinking?" John shouts.
"John? You're back early. How was the wedding?"
"How was th-?" John shakes his head in disbelief. "There was no wedding, Sherlock! But I shouldn't have to tell you that, right?"
Sherlock sits up and looks at John. He looks dishevelled, his bowtie is coming undone.
"John, what are you talking about? What happened?" Sherlock asks.
"Oh, don't act like that! You know exactly what happened!" John barks.
"No, I don't, John."
"You're telling me that you're not behind the rats?" John finds it really hard to believe Sherlock.
Sherlock's face doesn't move. But there's something in his eyes.
John inhales sharply and clenches his fists. "Sherlock? What did you do?"
Sherlock stands up. "John … I … I didn't know that you would act like that."
"Act like what? YOU JUST RUINED MY WEDDING!" John is shouting so loud that he's sure the people down on the street can hear him, let alone Mrs Hudson.
Sherlock flinches at the anger in John's voice. "John, I'm sorry. I thought you didn't want to get married. The way you've been acting these last few weeks-"
John is taken aback. "You're sorry? You thought I didn't want to get married?"
"Yes, John. I thought you didn't want to get married," Sherlock repeats calmly.
For the second time today, John can just stand there, not knowing what to do next. He just stares at Sherlock, waiting for an explanation.
"Look, John," Sherlock sighs, "ever since you've gotten engaged, you've acted strange. I admit that I am not an expert when it comes to human behaviour. So I thought that you were just in love and that was the reason why you were sulking."
"I wasn't sulking," John says defiantly.
"Yes, you were. When you weren't spending time with Mary, you just sat in your armchair, brooding and sulking. Even I can figure out that that is not how you are supposed to be acting when you are in love."
"Okay, so let's say that I was sulking," John interrupts. "But that still doesn't give you the right to ruin my wedding."
"I saw you at the rehearsal, you know," Sherlock goes on. "The way you looked at Mary. That's not how a fiancé should look at his future wife. That's how a murderer looks at his future victim."
"Because you're such an expert when it comes to relationships", John says.
"I'm an expert when it comes to murder."
John doesn't know what to reply. Because Sherlock has a point.
"Again, John, I'm sorry. Look, I'm sure you can put things right with Mary. I can put things right with Mary. Tomorrow, I'm going to call her and apologise." Sherlock sounds stressed. And a bit scared.
John opens and closes his mouth a few times before he says: "That won't be necessary."
Sherlock gives John a surprised look. "What do you mean?"
"She doesn't want to see me again, I think. I sort of walk out on her and left her alone with the rats."
"You did what?"
"I left her alone with the rats," John repeats. He doesn't know how to say all the things he wants to say to Sherlock. All the things he needs to say to Sherlock. "When she was walking down the aisle I started to have all these doubts and seconds thoughts. I wasn't even sure if I wanted this. I'm not sure if I really ever was in love with Mary. Because, let's face it, she was pretty dull. And annoying. I don't know what I would've done if she had made me listen to that story about that stupid kitten she saved one more time."
John looks at Sherlock and Sherlock looks back at him. They remain like this for a few seconds.
"Why don't you sit down, John?" Sherlock asks kindly. "Do you want some tea?"
Suddenly, John feels very tired. He sits down on the sofa, while Sherlock is busy in the kitchen. When he comes back he's holding a white mug with a bee on it.
"That's not mine," John remarks. "What happened to my mug, Sherlock?"
Sherlock clears his throat. "I broke it this morning. Sorry about that, too."
But John is too tired to be angry with Sherlock. He just takes the mug and holds it, while Sherlock is standing in front of him.
"John, can I ask you something?" Sherlock asks hesitantly.
Sherlock says nothing for a minute. Then: "Why were you having doubts about your wedding? Was it only because Mary was annoying? Or was there something else?"
John raises his head. Sherlock's face is really close.
"What are you implying?" John asks in a thick voice.
"Come on, John!" Sherlock throws himself onto the sofa, next to John. "No one leaves their future wife on the wedding day because she is annoying. Even I know that."
John rubs his eyes with one hand. "I don't know, Sherlock," he admits. "It's been a really exhausting day. I'm confused and I'm really tired. I should probably go to bed."
John wants to get up, but Sherlock puts one hand on his knee. "Let me answer the question for you." And he kisses John on the lips, very lightly.
And John just kisses him back. Then he lets his head sink onto Sherlock's shoulder and dozes off.
They stay like this for some time. It's slowly getting dark outside. The warm June day turns into a warm June night. The sky is clear. The yellow light of the streetlamps seeps into the living room.
Sherlock is careful not to move, because he doesn't want to wake John. And John doesn't want to wake up, because he's scared that everything will go away when he does, that everything was just a dream and that he is married to Mary.
"How did you do it then?" John asks after hours of silence.
"How did I do what?"
"How did you make the rats run into the church?"
Sherlock chuckles. "Remember that movie you made me watch? Turns out, rats really do love peanut butter."