13 August 2015 - Mary The Matchmaker
Title: Mary The Matchmaker
Author: Beriaearwen
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Mutant Enamy, etc. The characters of Sherlock belong to the BBC, etc. All are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Sherlock
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word Count: 1156
Author's Note: follow on to my 2013 twisted short contributions Unlce John (not to be confused with Jedibuttercup's fabulous story Uncle John which is a crossover with Stargate: Atlantis and of which we all really, really, really would like to see more) and The Other Holmes. Characters may be a little off, timelines and other random bits of canon are completely ignored in order to make this work for me. That includes John and Sherlock having roomed together for approximately 5 years before Sherlock “dies”.
Summary: John couldn't help but shake his head at Mary's match making attempts.
John allowed his eyes to drift over the top of the paper he was reading to the shapely blonde he still couldn't believe had agreed to marry him. It amazed him at times the twists his life took. Though he admitted there was some overlap, each phase of his adult life seemed very distinct from the other. Each had their joys, each their sorrows.
A part of him missed the madcap adventures with Sherlock, but he was happy with this new chapter in his life as well. True, he had nothing to blog about - well, nothing as exciting as they cases he'd watched Sherlock solve, but he had other things to occupy his time instead.
“Got your fill of looking?” Mary asked as she turned to her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Don't you want to touch?”
John grinned and tossed aside his paper as he got out of his chair. With an invitation like that...
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
“Can't believe he put his foot in it like that,” Mary complained, finishing with a heavy sigh. “I thought they'd be perfect together.”
John tried to hide his amusement at that thought, he really did. Unfortunately the snort of disbelief escaped.
Mary turned toward him and narrowed her eyes. “What is so amusing, Mr. Watson?” she demanded. “Albert and Beverly are perfect for each other.”
Biting back his observation that the woman who enjoyed extreme sports and the man who collected butterflies and enjoyed a good game of chess probably didn't have much in common, he said, “Mary, dear. I know you want to see all of our friends as happy as we are, but perhaps your best skills lie in an arena other than matchmaking. You're far too young and beautiful to be a Yenta.”
The look that Mary shot him let him know he was walking a fine line, but she would accept his complement for now.
“Any word from the Americas?” she asked, completely changing the subject.
“I finally got to speak with Buffy. Wish there was something more I could do to help out, but...”
“She knows and understands,” Mary assured him, a look of knowledge in her eye, rather than understanding.
John's brows furrowed. It was almost like Mary knew, or thought she knew, Buffy much better than she should, given her only source of information was his stories and a few letters. Before he could ask about it, he was distracted by the kiss she gave him.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Three weeks later, John stepped out of the shower to find Mary standing in the room waiting for him. “Good grief. Are you trying to shock me to death?”
“Never,” she replied with a grin and a quick kiss. “Buffy's on the phone for you.”
“Thank you,” he said with a quick peck to her lips as he wrapped a towel around his waist. “Buffy?”
“Uncle John?”
He smiled at the sound of his niece's voice, though something about it nagged at him. She sounded... tired. “That's me. How are you, Buffy?”
“Fine. Well... not really. See Sunnydale sort of fell into a cave system and Dawn and I have...” Her words cut off in a soft sob.
John straightened and headed out of the bathroom as the full import of her words registered. Buffy, after losing so much, had just lost her home, her home town and, possibly, everything of value to her. He may not have limitless resources, but he would be there for his family. “Where are you Buffy? I can get a ticket and fly out there.”
He heard a sniffle on the other end of the line before Buffy's watery voice continued. “Actually, I was kind of hoping we could come there to be with you. There's just... it's just too many memories, too fresh, you know.”
“I know,” John replied gently, his mind going to various times in his life when he'd been in the same emotional state his niece seemed to be in. “Let me work on getting some tickets and things together. Do you have your passports?”
“No, but we're working on getting our replacement documents.”
“Do you need any funds or anything to tide you over?”
“No, Uncle John. We've got enough for now. I... I just...”
“Need family right now. I understand.”
Buffy was silent for a moment. “I really think you do,” she said softly.
After another moment of silence, John prompted, “Why don't you give me a number where I can reach you and I'll call as soon as I have the ticket information.”
“Sounds good,” Buffy agreed before giving him the number.
Saying goodbye to his niece, he wrapped his arm around Mary who had come to stand by him. “We'll need the guest room ready,” he said.
“I thought that might be the case,” Mary agreed. “You work on those plane tickets and let me worry about everything else.” Stepping out of his embrace, she headed off toward the guest room to begin preparing it for occupancy. Stopping suddenly her head tilted to the side. “Huh.”
John felt a cold finger of dread at that sound. He knew that sound well. Mary was matchmaking again and, he somehow knew it would involve one of his nieces. This couldn't be good.
Before John could protest, Mary turned toward him with a smile on her face. “You know who would be perfect for Buffy? Sherlock,” she finished decisively.
Choking on the breath he was taking at the thought of those two ever getting along and the complete havoc that would create, he stammered the only thing he could think of to counter that argument, “Sherlock's dead.” He winced at the pain he felt even now, two years later at those words. But honestly, the few times they'd met Buffy and Sherlock did not get along in any way, shape or form. In fact, Buffy seemed to despise Sherlock and Sherlock... had always been fascinated even as he was offended at her treatment of him. Dear lord, she might be right. But the fact remained Sherlock was dead.
“Hmm,” Mary said with a shrug as she turned back toward the guest room. “Thing like that doesn't always stick.”
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Satisfied he had everything in order for his trip and for those he knew would be coming from California - though no one would ever know he had smoothed the way there - he stepped outside.
He was never a fan of travel, but he had a wayward dead brother to retrieve and, unfortunately, the only way to do so would be to go there himself, thus the car waiting for him with the door open.
Mycroft slipped into the back of his car just as his phone rang. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. He’d been expecting this call. “Hello Buffy.”
End
Author: Beriaearwen
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Mutant Enamy, etc. The characters of Sherlock belong to the BBC, etc. All are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Sherlock
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Word Count: 1156
Author's Note: follow on to my 2013 twisted short contributions Unlce John (not to be confused with Jedibuttercup's fabulous story Uncle John which is a crossover with Stargate: Atlantis and of which we all really, really, really would like to see more) and The Other Holmes. Characters may be a little off, timelines and other random bits of canon are completely ignored in order to make this work for me. That includes John and Sherlock having roomed together for approximately 5 years before Sherlock “dies”.
Summary: John couldn't help but shake his head at Mary's match making attempts.
John allowed his eyes to drift over the top of the paper he was reading to the shapely blonde he still couldn't believe had agreed to marry him. It amazed him at times the twists his life took. Though he admitted there was some overlap, each phase of his adult life seemed very distinct from the other. Each had their joys, each their sorrows.
A part of him missed the madcap adventures with Sherlock, but he was happy with this new chapter in his life as well. True, he had nothing to blog about - well, nothing as exciting as they cases he'd watched Sherlock solve, but he had other things to occupy his time instead.
“Got your fill of looking?” Mary asked as she turned to her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Don't you want to touch?”
John grinned and tossed aside his paper as he got out of his chair. With an invitation like that...
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
“Can't believe he put his foot in it like that,” Mary complained, finishing with a heavy sigh. “I thought they'd be perfect together.”
John tried to hide his amusement at that thought, he really did. Unfortunately the snort of disbelief escaped.
Mary turned toward him and narrowed her eyes. “What is so amusing, Mr. Watson?” she demanded. “Albert and Beverly are perfect for each other.”
Biting back his observation that the woman who enjoyed extreme sports and the man who collected butterflies and enjoyed a good game of chess probably didn't have much in common, he said, “Mary, dear. I know you want to see all of our friends as happy as we are, but perhaps your best skills lie in an arena other than matchmaking. You're far too young and beautiful to be a Yenta.”
The look that Mary shot him let him know he was walking a fine line, but she would accept his complement for now.
“Any word from the Americas?” she asked, completely changing the subject.
“I finally got to speak with Buffy. Wish there was something more I could do to help out, but...”
“She knows and understands,” Mary assured him, a look of knowledge in her eye, rather than understanding.
John's brows furrowed. It was almost like Mary knew, or thought she knew, Buffy much better than she should, given her only source of information was his stories and a few letters. Before he could ask about it, he was distracted by the kiss she gave him.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Three weeks later, John stepped out of the shower to find Mary standing in the room waiting for him. “Good grief. Are you trying to shock me to death?”
“Never,” she replied with a grin and a quick kiss. “Buffy's on the phone for you.”
“Thank you,” he said with a quick peck to her lips as he wrapped a towel around his waist. “Buffy?”
“Uncle John?”
He smiled at the sound of his niece's voice, though something about it nagged at him. She sounded... tired. “That's me. How are you, Buffy?”
“Fine. Well... not really. See Sunnydale sort of fell into a cave system and Dawn and I have...” Her words cut off in a soft sob.
John straightened and headed out of the bathroom as the full import of her words registered. Buffy, after losing so much, had just lost her home, her home town and, possibly, everything of value to her. He may not have limitless resources, but he would be there for his family. “Where are you Buffy? I can get a ticket and fly out there.”
He heard a sniffle on the other end of the line before Buffy's watery voice continued. “Actually, I was kind of hoping we could come there to be with you. There's just... it's just too many memories, too fresh, you know.”
“I know,” John replied gently, his mind going to various times in his life when he'd been in the same emotional state his niece seemed to be in. “Let me work on getting some tickets and things together. Do you have your passports?”
“No, but we're working on getting our replacement documents.”
“Do you need any funds or anything to tide you over?”
“No, Uncle John. We've got enough for now. I... I just...”
“Need family right now. I understand.”
Buffy was silent for a moment. “I really think you do,” she said softly.
After another moment of silence, John prompted, “Why don't you give me a number where I can reach you and I'll call as soon as I have the ticket information.”
“Sounds good,” Buffy agreed before giving him the number.
Saying goodbye to his niece, he wrapped his arm around Mary who had come to stand by him. “We'll need the guest room ready,” he said.
“I thought that might be the case,” Mary agreed. “You work on those plane tickets and let me worry about everything else.” Stepping out of his embrace, she headed off toward the guest room to begin preparing it for occupancy. Stopping suddenly her head tilted to the side. “Huh.”
John felt a cold finger of dread at that sound. He knew that sound well. Mary was matchmaking again and, he somehow knew it would involve one of his nieces. This couldn't be good.
Before John could protest, Mary turned toward him with a smile on her face. “You know who would be perfect for Buffy? Sherlock,” she finished decisively.
Choking on the breath he was taking at the thought of those two ever getting along and the complete havoc that would create, he stammered the only thing he could think of to counter that argument, “Sherlock's dead.” He winced at the pain he felt even now, two years later at those words. But honestly, the few times they'd met Buffy and Sherlock did not get along in any way, shape or form. In fact, Buffy seemed to despise Sherlock and Sherlock... had always been fascinated even as he was offended at her treatment of him. Dear lord, she might be right. But the fact remained Sherlock was dead.
“Hmm,” Mary said with a shrug as she turned back toward the guest room. “Thing like that doesn't always stick.”
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Satisfied he had everything in order for his trip and for those he knew would be coming from California - though no one would ever know he had smoothed the way there - he stepped outside.
He was never a fan of travel, but he had a wayward dead brother to retrieve and, unfortunately, the only way to do so would be to go there himself, thus the car waiting for him with the door open.
Mycroft slipped into the back of his car just as his phone rang. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. He’d been expecting this call. “Hello Buffy.”
End