Author: Ariane DeVere
Word count: 766
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to way more powerful and wealthy people than me.
Translated into Danish by Thessa Jensen; into French by Use Your Illusion I; and into Slovak by mimi.
“I bought you a ring.”
John blinked at Sherlock’s abrupt announcement. “Why?” he asked cautiously.
“On Thursday, when we were conducting casework at the Royal Oak Inn,” Sherlock explained. “That group of women chatting you up ... I didn’t like it.”
“You wanted them chatting me up so you could work out which of them had swindled Mr. Jensen!” John protested. “You asked me to be deliberately ‘flirty’ so that they would start talking to me!”
“I know ... but I didn’t like it,” Sherlock said more strongly. “They all thought they stood a chance with you. I don’t want people thinking you’re available.”
He sighed. “John, you know I’m not the marrying kind ... but I bought you a ring and I’m asking if you would wear it.”
“Show it to me,” John told him. He was already pretty convinced what his answer would be, but it wouldn’t do to be too much of a pushover.
Now, if this were a proper romantic story, at this point Sherlock would have taken a small velvet box from his pocket, held it up in front of his beloved and slowly opened the lid to reveal the contents. However, this was Sherlock ‘wouldn’t know romantic if it punched him in the face’ Holmes, and so he simply took a ring from his pocket and plonked it into John’s outstretched hand. Trying not to roll his eyes, John picked up the white gold band and carefully inspected its subtly engraved pattern.
“You told me once that you liked white gold better than yellow gold,” Sherlock said defensively. “I know it’s not as expensive ...”
“It’s fine,” John assured him. “I do prefer white gold, and I’m not bothered about the cost, or lack of it.” He continued to peer at the ring.
“So, will you wear it?” Sherlock asked him, his voice sounding a little anxious.
John studied the ring for a little longer.
“It’s the correct size,” Sherlock told him.
“I have no doubt of that at all,” John said with a smile. He raised his eyes to Sherlock’s nervous gaze.
“Do you like it?” Sherlock asked.
“It’s perfect,” John said. He looked down at the ring again.
“Will you wear it?” Sherlock asked a second time.
John smiled up at his partner. “Yes, I’ll wear it,” he said.
Sherlock visibly relaxed. “Good,” he said, and began to turn away.
Oh no. Mr. not-at-all-romantic wasn’t getting away with it that easily.
“Oi!” John told him sternly. Sherlock turned back to him and John tried to make his expression fierce. “If I’m not going to get a fancy ceremony out of this, or a big party with all our family and friends, or a two-week honeymoon somewhere hot and sunny, the least you can do is put the thing on my bloody finger!”
“Oh, of course,” Sherlock said, taking the ring from John before lifting his hand and slowly sliding the white gold band onto his ring finger. When it was settled in place he continued to hold onto it, gazing down at their hands for a long moment before raising his eyes to John’s.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
John opened his mouth, about to say, “Of course I like it,” but then he stopped. Sherlock had already asked that question and had been answered; and John realised that he had phrased the sentence deliberately and was seeking the absolute response to it. John smiled at him.
“I do,” he said.
Sherlock’s eyes locked onto his. “I do, too,” he said softly.
There was really only one way to reply to that, and John gave it instantly, his grin mischievous but also full of love for his crazy and adorable man.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Sherlock’s smile was euphoric as he lowered his mouth towards John’s. When he finally raised his head again several minutes later he looked down to where he was still holding the ring on John’s finger. He looked thoughtful.
“No,” he said. “I’m not sure.”
John – who had already pair-bonded not only with the man in front of him but with the ring as well – frowned unhappily. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked.
“Oh, I think I like it,” Sherlock assured him. “I just need to see it in a different setting.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then looked up to John coyly. “Maybe with less clothing around it.”
John’s grin was the only answer he needed to give, and Mr. can-be-totally-romantic-when-he-puts-his-m
Author’s Note: Well now I’m annoyed.
Not a single bite for a month, and then a couple of days ago I was walking back to the office with my lunch when my plotbunny came galloping out of my room, scampered down the road, bit me firmly on the toe and then raced back to my desk, leaving me wandering down the road with that “Ooh!” look in my eyes and a seraphic smile on my face. So I got back to my desk, petted the bunny and started writing, with the sole thought in my mind that “You may now kiss the bride” was possibly the best last line for a 221B that I’d ever come up with.
But no. VerityBun had been silent for a month, and now she was going to make the most of it and would not let me write just 221 words. I tried and tried to cut it but it didn’t work.
So, there it is – my latest fic. But damn.