Alphabet Challenge - D is for Doilies
Title: Alphabet Challenge - D is for Doilies
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (2009 film)
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock, John/Mary
Note: My first bit of non-slash, so enjoy that fun little fact. Also, I haven't seen the second film yet, so I'm taking a few liberties with this, I think. Again, doing one suggested by surrenderdammit.
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I didn't see much of Holmes after the wedding. Despite the short-lived case which involved the unfortunate sergeant of the Yard, the man had things to do. There were still experiments to run, landladies to drive absolutely insane, and, horror of horrors, he was once again stuck reading through the pile of potential cases on his own. He didn't even have the time to buy a proper wedding gift -- even though I had of course insisted that the ring was more than enough; I'd been caught by surprise when he apologized for this on a terribly short visit to my new home. I hadn't expected him to change himself to fit my new life. Rather, we both knew that if either of us where to adapt, it would be me. It was a difficult thing to try and manage, what with my being a doctor. A newly married one, at that.
It wasn't long into another time-constricted visit when I told him that it would take a bit of time for things to feel even slightly 'normal' again, and I made sure to point out that nothing would ever be quite the same, though I'd be willing to give it a go for the sake of our friendship. Holmes had adopted the strangest look, as though he was trying too hard to hide whatever facial expression his subconscious wanted him to make, and instead went babbling off-subject entirely. I had let him; years of experience taught me that occasionally that was for the best.
Months both flew by and dragged on. It was the most lovely feeling in the world to be able to crawl in bed next to the woman I loved at the end of every night. I simply adored the life we'd built together, even if a part of me felt ill and nostalgic for my life back at 221B. She could sense this in me and, being an absolute saint, had spent many fleeting moments suggesting I "invite him over for tea" or "go meet with him for old time's sake".
"I know it isn't quite the same," she'd admitted one evening, "but it's rather better than nothing at all, isn't it, John?" I'd had to stop myself in the middle of transferring my notes to kiss her properly for that.
When I finally saw Holmes again it was very late in the evening and the world outside my home was dark, cold, and very damp. I'd taken to the sitting room to get a bit of reading done before following Mary off to bed. While I was mid-sentence, the door opened to reveal Holmes in his usual messy and dark attire, his shoes soaking into my carpets.
I didn't care about the carpets, not at the time. It had been such a relief to see his face, I'd very nearly dropped my book. "Holmes!" I exclaimed with glee, instead setting the book aside and pushing myself to my feet.
"Terribly sorry to interrupt," he began, completely nonchalant. I waved a dismissive hand which he took as an invite to walk further into the room. "I thought it best if I stop by sooner, if only to avoid forgetting to give this to you." Awkwardly, he held out a small, simple box which he'd quite obviously wrapped on his own.
I gave him a smile and took the box, only opening it when he gave me an expectant look. The poor wrapping had practically fallen off, giving way to the gift just inside. I pulled the lid off and set it aside, looking most curiously at the man's gift. I pulled out one of the pure white lace doilies, examining it before looking back at him.
He shrugged, hands clasped behind his back. "Well, I... I hope you haven't already got any."
"Doilies, Holmes?" I looked back at the thing before bursting into a fit of chuckles.
He gave me a lopsided smile. "Yes, well, Flora did predict that they were to be expected in your future."
At that, I only laughed harder, which, in turn, made him laugh as well.