Work Text:
Checking in on you, where are you? – JW
Finished the burglar case with Dimmock. – SH
You worked a case? It’s New Year’s Eve! – JW
Yes, it is. Why wouldn’t I? – SH
Of course, I would choose to work a case on New Year’s Eve. The criminal I’ve tailed to this masquerade had not taken the night off. It’s shaping up to be a very good year indeed. - SH
Masquerade? Oh, you’re at the Landmark? What’s your costume? – JW
A French waiter. – SH
I winced as soon as I hit Send. The Landmark was where John would have proposed to Mary had I not resurrected that night. That was petty of me, but I could not help it. I am not surprised it took a moment before I saw the dots of his forming response.
You utter, utter cock. It’s minutes to midnight. It would serve you right if someone unexpected grabs you and kissed you. – JW
I refuse to acknowledge John’s taunt, I deserve it. He does not respond anymore. I deserve that as well.
I vaguely recall his having said some sentimental rubbish about kissing the person he thinks is going to be The One at the stroke of midnight. John’s plans to ring in the New Year clearly have not gone as well as planned if he has already returned to Baker Street to know I am not there. I met the woman once, Babbling Anew, or something like that. When she came by, she seemed to be looking mostly at me. I could have told John then and there it would not have worked out. I almost did say it while I deduced her. Then I remembered how badly I hurt Molly that one Christmas and kept my mouth shut for John’s sake. I did not want to think on her or more specifically I did not want to think of them.
I cannot think about it. It hurt too much.
Leave it to me to fall in love with the perfect person for me and it would turn out to be my own flat mate, Mr. I’m Not Gay.
Everything I went through for him and with him: Moriarty, Magnusson, the death of Mary, Culverton Smith, and my sister. That was nearly two years ago. It was a hard road to gain back what we had lost as friends. It was not perfect, I still could not tell him how I feel, but we were simpatico again and it was good.
Or so I thought, until he began to date again.
So here I am: happy I won’t have to again fake happiness to see his happiness had his plans gone as he hoped. Annoyed that I will have to fake sympathy and hear how his plans had not gone as hoped. Resigned I cannot plan for anything that I hope and bringing in this new year with my only other love The Work.
It is what it is. I can't have the man, but I will always have The Work, so I work.
It was a bit of a surprise for the event host some thirty minutes ago when DI Dimmock and some of the MET’s less stupid converged on the venue for the takedown. It even managed to happen without a pursuit. I imagine I would have looked quite dashing running about in my tuxedo. John would likely compare me to one of his inane Bond films. Pity that. I personally would have enjoyed a brisk run through London’s streets, but not even I can expect to tick every box with each criminal pursuit. At least I don’t stand out in this well-heeled crowd now that the unexpected excitement is over.
It is New Year’s Eve after all; and the festivities are quickly underway again. I amuse myself deducing the ridiculous people here. Some I even deduce out loud, just because.
I look at my watch sometime later, John is correct, it is now minutes before the new year. The absolute last place I want to be is alone in a throng of people when the clock strikes midnight. The only lips I would want to kiss at midnight are sitting at Baker Street moping.
It’s 11:59 and the countdown is happening, there is a throng of people between me and the door. I will not make it out in time and mentally prepare to push off any bold enough to touch my person. I know steampunk metal half-mask I wear is a deterrent, but not to the more determined.
“Move!”
The countdown is at ten when my head turns at the noise happening off to the side. Someone in a tuxedo and a silver mask is shoving harshly to get through the crowd.
With a shock I realize who is blasting through people like a man on a mission and with a bigger shock realize that the mission is me.
“John?!”
He is wearing a tuxedo. He was not wearing one when he dropped off Rosie with Mrs. Hudson, but I don’t have time to think about it as I am stunned by how GOOD he looks and surprised by his presence here period as he tears his mask off.
At the stroke of midnight, I feel his strong fingers pull my mask away even as he pulls my face towards his and kisses me.
It’s not the cliched pyrotechnics, but it is a shock of color and noise and music that erupts around us. A part of me understands that people jostle around us as they share their joy with each other. A part of me understands it is confetti I feel fall around us.
I only know one very important thing in that moment: Doctor John Hamish Watson is kissing me!
It takes a moment for me the absorb the surprisingly firm yet yielding lips upon mine belong to John before I respond in kind.
Laughing in delight I finally find voice as our lips part, “What happened to Babbling Anew or whatever her name was?”
John chuckles and shakes his head. “Thank goodness I have learned to know you better and that I can still surprise you.”
He takes my hand and holds it tight as we weave our way through the crowd. He does not let go until we reach the coat check and finally exit. It was cold, but the Landmark is not that far from 221B Baker Street. John starts walking, so we stroll through the streets of London towards home. Though shouts celebrating the new year can be heard among those also on the pavement, it is considerably quieter.
“Her first name is Barbara. Her surname is Newell and I introduced her to you as Barbara the jeweler. Believe it or not, she is one of the few people in London who had no idea who you are. I tried to describe you to her. She did not believe me. She came by the flat that one time. You were at your deductive snarky best. I was genuinely surprised you did not tell me how unsuitable she was for me in front of her, but by then I understood.” John rambles as we make our way back to Baker Street.
I realize then that he knew I would not bother to properly remember her and how he was counting on it. I stopped walking as it all just clicks in place. “Jeweler! She was helping you design a ring!”
And John. Wonderful John. Amazing John stops when I do, turns to me and smiles this beaming and yet almost shy smile. He reaches a hand in his pocket and pull out a small box. It is larger than a standard jewelry box and he holds it in his gloved hand open flat so I can see the design. It is an ebony wood box with the RAMC logo is on top and a violin and a magnifying glass on the sides, all of it inlaid in a blond wood to stand out against the dark base. It is custom made box just for this.
“The army doctor and the detective?” my fingers run over the beautiful surface.
“The army doctor protecting and loving the detective.” John clarifies.
He has a ring, in a personalized box and just admitted he loves me. Every fiber of me being understands this for what it is and the universe stops as I freeze in place even more stunned than when he asked me to be his best man.
John gives me a moment to let that sink in before he speaks again when he sees my acceptance of it.
“Sherlock, I realize you have loved me for a really long time. And that you have suffered with the patience of Job in silence for a really long time because of it. It took my falling in love with you, more importantly, admitting it to myself and trying to figure out how to admit to you for me to see how you were hiding your love for me. They say good things come to those who wait, but you are insane for not saying anything long ago Sherlock.” John says as he opens the box.
It is a platinum band with diamond inlay except for one garnet solitaire which is larger than the diamonds. I know the gemstones represent our respective birth months. Even here I am surrounded by him in love and protection.
“This is your clear, concise brilliant intellect running a ring around us with just enough heart to remind your that you’re human and to keep you at least a little humble.” John explains as he uses his teeth to slip a glove off.
But I know him just as well - I touch the deep red stone in the band. “The diamonds are your birthstone and represent my intellect and how much you’re on my mind, John. I know the garnet is my birthstone, but the if it’s the heart that represents your love wouldn’t a ruby be better?”
“Ruby is for July. Your birthstone is garnet, Sherlock, and you are my heart.” John looks up at me, his face is serious even as his eyes regale me with so much love. I feel like the idiot John sometimes calls me as I realize how I have been seeing this look from him for months now, but dismissed it, unbelieving of what I was seeing all this time.
“I love you and I know you love me.” he takes the ring out of the box and holds it aloft. “This is me saying something, Sherlock. Saying everything. We’ve wasted enough time. Will you be Rosie’s stepdad? Will you be my hus…”
“Yes, John, Yes!” I cut him off with a kiss even as I slip my finger into the ring. “Yes!”
When we separate again, John takes my hand and we make the way back to 221B.
“Happy New Year, John Watson, my fiancé, I love you.”
“Happy New Year, Sherlock Holmes, my fiancé, I love you.”
It’s shaping up to be a very good year indeed.