So I am human, I’m not as tall as people think I am… I’m-I’m nice-ish… clever, important to some people, but I tend to rub them up the wrong way. Got it. I’m you, aren’t I?
[x]
I’d love to point out that Sherlock I-am-a-sociopath-and-everyone-is-an-idiot is saying how nice, clever and important John is. Not just that, but those words make him think of John, which is an even stronger thing.
I know we have an even more blatant declaration of love in his speech, but I still find this quote amazing. Because some people will find it funny, noticing only the “not as tall as people think” and “I tend to rub them up the wrong way”, but there’s the whole rest of it, and it makes me go crazy.
(via elessar-undomiel)
So I had this quick little ficlet pop in my head:
John stumbled as they were pushed into the small cell to sleep it off. Sherlock mumbled a deduction at the cop that was closing the door, then all but threw himself down on the tiny bunk and almost immediately started snoring. Prat.
With a sigh, John sunk to a seat, leaning against the bunk. Sherlock’s hand was hanging down and he looked at those elegant fingers. I don’t mind, he’d said. And then they’d been interrupted. Bugger.
With a thunk, John tipped his head back against the wall. Stupid. He was getting married tomorrow. To a very nice woman that hadn’t faked her death for two years. Who hadn’t left him grieving in silence. Wanker.
Sighing, John ran his fingers along Sherlock’s, just feeling the bones. The skin was rougher than it had been two years ago. The detective had been through some things, John could see that much. Not that Sherlock would tell him anything of course. Twat.
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” he said out loud. Mumbled. Leaning forward he rest his forehead against the back of Sherlock’s hand. “Should be getting married to you.” Sodding hell.
It was true, he knew it in his heart even if he couldn’t say it aloud. He’d loved Sherlock Holmes for a very long time. He’d mourned him harder than he’d ever mourned anyone. Tried to crawl into a bottle for a time, something he’d always swore he’d never do. But Sherlock had driven him to it. Cock.
Pulling back a bit, John made sure he was still snoring, sound echoing around them. He dropped his head and kissed the back of his hand, then leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. Morning would be here and with it a wicked hangover. Then the wedding and whatever the hell Sherlock
was going to say in his best man speech. Probably read straight from his blog or something. Arse.
John closed his eyes and felt gravity pulling him downward. One hand reached over to entwine his fingers with Sherlock’s, though he’d never admit it. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and Sherlock never did make it easier. Bastard.
what an awkward wedding
usher: david (mary’s ex who is still in love with her)
best man: sherlock (john’s almost who is still in love with him)
maid of honor: janine (cam’s assistant)
bride: mary (pregnant former assassin with a fake identity)
groom: john (danger addicted doctor who is in love with the best man)
ringbearer: a mini sherlock who enjoys morbid photos
photographer: the mayfly man (murderer who wants to kill john’s ex)
guests: mrs hudson (ships the groom/best man), greg (inspector who has watched sherlock/john fall in love, has feelings for molly), molly (pathologist, in love with the best man, possibly has feelings for greg), tom (molly’s fiance, possible assassin), major sholto (john’s ex who is still in love with him), john’s cousin (who doesn’t like mary) and the rest who are all probably a hot mess too
