Prompting Part XXIV

[sherlockbbc_fic]

Please check the Sticky Post to find the newest active part and post your prompts there.
Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post

IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.

Comments

Re: In love, in faith unbroken dwell 2/??

[anonymous]

"Dr. John Watson." Helen Stoner wraps her arms around his shoulders and pecks the air above both his cheeks. John is so startled by the familiarity that he doesn't speak, at first, and Helen pulls away to give him a sad smile. "Percy and I thought we'd come and offer our support." The stocky, bearded Percy Armitage waves. "I know--" She clears her throat. "It must be hard."

"I...yes." John blinks. "Yes, thank you." He looks around, bewildered. "Erm. Everyone, this is Helen Stoner, another one of Sherlock's clients, and Percy Armitage. Helen, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade. This is Henry Knight, another client, and Chris Melas, another client."

"This is so strange," Helen admits, as she shakes hands. "I read about you all on the blog, but never had any idea what anyone looked like."

"Same here," says Henry. "You're--from the Speckled Blonde case, aren't you?"

"Yes." She wrinkles her name. "What a name. You got a much better one--the Hounds of Baskerville?"

John retreats to his usual seat next to Lestrade, who's hunched over his drink as usual. "All these people just decided to show up, did they?"

Lestrade shrugs and scratches his chin. "Sherlock has a lot of grateful clients."

A drink appears at John's shoulder. He takes a gulp and licks his lips. "Funny how they all seem to turn up on the same night."

Lestrade doesn't reply. John blinks down at the bar. He takes another drink.

Finally, he says, "Thank you." Lestrade slides his glass across the bar to tap against John's.

-----

Angelo flings his arms around John and squeezes him tightly for long, long moments. This long, silent hug from Angelo, who is normally so ebullient, is somehow devastating, and when Angelo finally lets go John is shaking, just a little bit. He takes a deep, long breath and manages to get out, "Thanks for hosting us," without his voice breaking.

"Anything, anything, for friends of Sherlock." Angelo shows them to the largest table in the restaurant, a large round table in the back that seats ten. "You pay for the food, but drinks are on the house. Drink as much as you want. For Sherlock!" He raises his fist in the air.

"To Sherlock!" the crowd choruses.

It is/i>a crowd, by this point: Henry Knight, Helen Stoner (but not Percy, this time), Sally Barnicot, Chris Mela and his girlfriend--even Jacob Sowersby. And Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade, too, of course. Angelo brings them endless bottles of wine: Pinot Grigio and Sangiovese and Barbera, and other wines that John knows nothing about--he's a beer bloke, really--but that Sherlock probably knew volumes. His glass never goes empty, and somehow a plate of risotto turns up in front of him, and for the first time in a nearly a year John can taste his food. His stomach unwinds.

Henry and Helen exchange glances, and Henry smiles and stands up. "I, I don't know if this is appropriate, but." He takes a deep breath and looks down at Helen, who winds her fingers around his and gives them a squeeze. Henry grins, and it transforms his face into that of a glad little boy. "Well, maybe some of you have guessed." He looks around the table, and sure enough Mrs. Hudson beams expectantly. "Yes. Helen Stoner and I are engaged."

The table erupts in cheering. Sally and Helen hug and shriek into each other's shoulders, while Jacob Sowersby pumps Henry's hand and spills enthusiastic congratulations. Eventually, Angelo manages to quiet the table long enough to propose a toast: "Salute! To Henry and Helen!"

"Cheers!" cries the table.

Not long after that, John excuses himself from the table and weaves his way the loo. It takes Lestrade fifteen minutes to come and find him locked in one of the stalls, leaning against the wall, sobbing silently.

-----