Chapter Text
Sherlock stood by, hands clasped behind his back, silently observing the party and enjoying the orchestra's playing. Everyone was happily chattering, but most of the guests didn't interest him much. His eyes quickly fell on his wife and the Watsons across the room. When Sherlock had originally received this invitation months ago, he hadn't anticipated that he'd prefer to spend most of the time with eyes trained on his beloved wife.
It seemed a lifetime ago now, all those months, and perhaps years if he were honest with himself, that he had so violently pushed her away from his heart. Sentiment...the chemical defect which had proven to be far more of a necessity to his life than anything else. He looked back on those years of solitude, and could only conclude that they readied him to knock down those walls. They taught him that he absolutely had to let people in. Especially the woman that mattered most, and that he now loved with his whole heart.
Molly and the Watsons kept glancing over at him, making it rather obvious that he was being discussed and prompting him to join them.
As he approached, Mary immediately grasped his hand to give it a squeeze. "Mr. Holmes, have I yet thoroughly expressed how thrilled I am for the two of you?"
Sherlock made a mock expression of contemplation. "Mm, I do believe it's been mentioned once or twice, yes."
"Well it merits mentioning again, Holmes," John chimed in. "I'm not sure any of us will quite be able to get over the pleasant surprise of all this. At least, not for some time. And then surely when this happy shock has begun to wear off, perhaps there will be another sort of happy announcement…" He and Mary exchanged a little look.
Molly began smiling, but also blushing furiously. She didn't have to attempt a reply, because Sherlock rapidly jumped in.
"Mrs. Holmes will need to be focusing on her career at present," he said quite firmly. "There is nothing wrong with eventually having children, but it would certainly create a bit of difficulty considering our plans for the very near future." He looked down and exchanged a very warm look with her. "Besides, we are quite content as we are."
Mary clasped a hand over her heart. "The two of you make my teeth ache and I absolutely adore it!"
Molly laughed and smiled at her friend. "Yes, well although we are happy as we are, I am going to feel just awful when I am completely consumed with my studies next month and my poor husband will be terribly neglected. In fact, we are thinking of getting a cat to keep him company!"
Sherlock frowned. "A cat? Absolutely not! We had definitely settled on a dog!"
Molly laughed at her husband's objection. "Oh had we? And when exactly did we settle on such a decision?"
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, searching the memory banks and being forced to sheepishly produce the answer that his wife naturally expected. "Perhaps it was...not out loud?"
Molly smiled at the amused Watsons. "Well, apparently we still have to discuss the fate of what poor Toby's species will be."
"And for now," John said, looking fondly at Mary. "I believe I should not waste the opportunity to dance with my wife, seeing as there is no baby in her arms at the moment."
Mary grinned at the Holmes and took John's arm to walk toward the dance floor.
Sherlock stepped over a little closer to Molly, reaching down and covertly threading their fingers together as he leaned down to speak softly in her ear.
"Did you absolutely have to look this fetching tonight, Mrs. Holmes?"
Molly laughed softly as her cheeks got a little pink. "I would have looked far more fetching if you hadn't rumpled my hair so terribly before we came downstairs!"
"It honestly could not be avoided," Sherlock replied with a completely straight face, which made Molly giggle more. After a moment, he leaned down and whispered again. "It seems that your idea to invite Inspector Lestrade was indeed a wise one."
Molly grinned as her gaze followed Sherlock's and landed on the Inspector who was currently having an animated conversation with Rebecca Hooper, who was all smiles.
"You see, I knew it would work so wonderfully if he were here!" Molly said excitedly. "At least one of the Hooper women shouldn't have to wait for nearly seven years to find marital happiness!" She gave Sherlock a gentle nudge.
"But you are the one who has ended up with the superior detective, so there is that to be grateful for," Sherlock replied with a cocky smile.
Just then, Sherlock caught his Mycroft's eye just outside of the ballroom as he headed down the hall.
Sherlock squeezed Molly's hand. "Excuse me, darling, I'll be back in a few minutes…there's just one thing I need to take care of."
"Yes, well you'd better not be long! I've apparently got quite a lot to prove on the dance floor this evening. There are some who continue to doubt my abilities!" Molly threw him a little wink as he walked away.
Sherlock followed the direction his brother had gone and found him in the study, as he expected. Mycroft stood quietly watching the small flame in the fireplace and he turned when Sherlock entered the room.
"Ah, good evening, brother mine. Enjoying the festivities?" His deflated tone suggested that he himself was not.
"Only some of them," Sherlock replied, coming over to stand opposite Mycroft in front of the fireplace.
"Mummy and Daddy seem to be enjoying themselves, so I suppose the ordeal is a success. Perhaps we can now avoid further events of this magnitude for another year or so!"
"Unless you're beginning to feel left out," Sherlock said with a smirk. "Perhaps there will be more wedding bells in the future!"
Mycroft made a face that suggested something foul smelling had recently been uncovered. "Change the subject. Especially because you are clearly not here to discuss me…you are here to discuss your own marriage." He gave his brother a know it all look.
"Indeed I am," Sherlock admitted, and then he reached into his jacket pocket, producing folded papers. "I wanted to return this to you. I find that it is no longer necessary…or valid."
Mycroft took the papers from his brother and unfolded them, though he was already hardly in the dark as to what it was. He glanced down at the divorce document and then back at Sherlock. "I see…" He gave his brother a discerning stare. "And are you quite sure about this?"
Sherlock looked back at Mycroft with both seriousness and sincerity, allowing himself to be completely transparent. "I have never been more sure of anything in my life."
Mycroft's brow rose and he nodded thoughtfully. "I confess that I am not entirely shocked…obviously I was able to make deductions that you yourself missed." He grinned proudly. "Although, I admit that my estimation in length of time was rather far off. You managed to reach this conclusion in almost blinding speed!"
Sherlock chuckled as he began walking back towards the door. "As much as I would adore continuing to hear about how perceptive you were about my marriage, I really must return to the party…my wife is awaiting a dance," he said, looking back at his brother with a rather pleased grin.
"Mustn't keep her waiting," Mycroft agreed, but before his brother left he spoke again. "And Sherlock?"
Sherlock turned again.
"My sincere congratulations to you and Mrs. Holmes," Mycroft added, and he clearly meant it. After he finished speaking the words, he tossed the divorce documents into the fire with a quick flick of his wrist, and then smiled at Sherlock.
Sherlock smiled in return and then walked back to join the party.
Mycroft walked away from the fire as well, standing in the study doorway which afforded a view of the ballroom. He watched as his brother whisked Molly onto the dance floor, joining the other couples in a lively waltz. They exchanged words and glances that were meant for nobody but them, and it looked for all the world like they believed they were the only man and woman on that dance floor. They carried pleasant little secrets between them as they took smooth steps across the marble tiles. Even Mycroft couldn't help smiling softly to himself at the sight.
Things were just as they should be.
And there, lying atop the logs in the slow burning fireplace were those quickly forgotten sheets of paper, ones that would have signified the end of Sherlock and Molly Holmes. The corners had only just begun to slowly curl as the flames could barely reach it.
But by chance, over at the other side of the room, one of the windows had been left open and as if summoned, a summer breeze came traveling in, barely strong enough to reach all the way to the fireplace…but it was just enough.
That bit of wind supplied just the touch of oxygen that the weakened flames needed in order to thrive, and then thrive they did. The fire soon climbed a few inches higher than it had before, easily engulfing the entire pile of logs, and of course everything else that had been deliberately placed in the fireplace. In a matter of seconds, every potentially legally binding word, name, and date was consumed and reduced to nothing but meaningless ashes and a now rather amusing memory. The only thing left visible to the naked eye was, fittingly, a magnificently strong and beautiful flame.
All that…just from a gentle breeze.