It's shameful really. My abilities have never failed me before; I've been wrong - on occasion - but never unaware. However, as we walk the few blocks to the restaurant, hand in hand, I realise that I have no idea what the magistrate looked like. I spoke to the man, shook his hand, probably offered him a smile of greeting but I don't remember. I don't remember any of it except John.
I squeeze his fingers. He looks up at me and smiles.
I only remember John, the smile on his face, the gleam in his eyes. I remember the way his hand felt when I put the ring on it, the way his fingers felt when he put the ring on mine. I remember the slight hiccough in his voice as he said the words, the forever words. I remember the feeling of my heart skipping in the same moment.
He held his breath as I spoke. His licked his lips in the millisecond before we kissed. They were wet and warm and he darted his tongue quickly against mine before pulling away. Every muscle in my body was twitching as we stood there and the ring shone as he accepted the pen and signed his name.
Dr. John H. Watson. My husband.
I signed right below him; my hand had a slight tremor as I held the pen. Not from nervounesss but from the energy pulses that continued to surge through me. John settled a palm against my face for a moment as I wrote the date. I placed a quick kiss against his thumb as it traced across my lips.
His voice was quiet with a whispered "I love you" as we walked out of the office. I held his hand tightly, sure that I'd never let it go again. We walked onto the street and I was certain that the grin on my face must match the one that was on his.
We stop at a corner and wait for the light to change. I place a quick kiss on his temple. It's feels odd as we rarely display affection in public, but today is different. I don't mind so much today.
He glances at his watch as we start to walk across the street. We are going to be a few minutes late, but it is the lunch celebrating our wedding. It won't start until we arrive.
When we started planning this a few months ago, we'd both agreed that we wanted the ceremony to just be the two of us. Mycroft had been understanding and had offered the private plane for the trip to Corsica. Harry had been disappointed but had tried to hide it. She'd offered to take us to lunch afterwards to celebrate and we'd happily accepted. At her request we'd invited Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson. Lestrade is on holiday with his family or we would have included him as well.
The idea sounded promising when she offered. Now it seems like an inconvenience. I want to go home with John and spend the few hours before our flight leaves in bed.
I spot the restaurant and begin my mental planning to get us out of there as quickly as possible. Perhaps we'll just order salad. That doesn't take long to prepare or consume. Perhaps I'll say I'm too excited to eat. Certainly Harry will understand, she got married once - it wasn't happy though.
Unlike John and I, who are very happy.
John squeezes my hand and pulls on my arm. I'm surprised since we are nearly at the restaurant. He pulls me into the alley and turns to face me. The same grin that he had as we left the magistrate's office is still plastered on his face.
I expect that he's going to kiss me as I want to kiss him. Instead he moves to wrap his arms around me. He settles one on around my waist and one between my shoulder blades. He buries his face into my chest and takes a deep breath. I weave a hand in his hair and wind my other arm across his shoulders. I place a kiss into his hair, savouring the way it feels against my cheek. I tighten around him feeling the warmth of the body that is as familiar to me as my own, perhaps more so.
"I just needed a moment, a moment before…" he mumbles the words into my chest and I nod, understanding. I'm grateful.
"I don't want to share you either," I say and he squeezes me. I feel his lips against my chest. I pull back far enough so that I can kiss him. He tastes the same, but better. He tastes like my husband now.
We separate and he smiles up at me.
"What's the plan?" He asks me. I frown not understanding him. He chuckles. "What's the plan to get us out of this lunch as quick as possible?" He gestures with his head to the restaurant.
I pull him closer to me again and place a kiss on the tip of his nose. I feel giddy and silly and it's embarrassing. I don't mind John seeing it, though. He's feeling the same way. "I think we should order salads and water, quickest preparation and serving time."
He smiles. "Salad and water it is." He moves his hand down and squeezes my ass. "Let's go." He holds a hand behind him as he moves past me. I take it and let him pull me to the door.
He's asleep and, in the time I was in the loo, he managed to spread out across the bed, his face is buried into my pillow. The early morning Mediterranean air is cool as it blows in through the open windows. The salt air reminds me of my childhood and the summers in Southampton at the marina or on boats when we could manage an invitation.
God, my life is so different now than it was then.
The blankets are pooled around his waist and there are goose bumps starting to appear on his back. And as if on cue, he shivers and makes a sleepy grab at the blankets. I'm tempted to grab the 'dirty picture' camera from where he left it on the nightstand and snap a few of him and perhaps delete some of the red jumper and bumblebee tie ones he took last night. I won't though; I'd rather watch him for a moment. The lean muscles of his back are completely relaxed. His dark curls are a mess as they cover the pillow and his face.
He's beautiful and he's brilliant and yesterday he agreed to spend the rest of his life with me. I still can't quite believe it. He probably could have anyone that he wanted, he certainly gets enough random looks and compliments. He chose me though. Me.
I'm so thankful for that. I can't imagine a day without him anymore.
I climb up the foot of the bed and settle my weight on top of him. His skin is cold as I settle my face between his shoulder blades. I place a quick kiss against his skin and tuck my arms with his under the pillows.
I close my eyes and prepare to sleep like this. It isn't the most comfortable, but I've done it before. Worst case scenario I wake up on top of Sherlock.
"You're heavy," he mumbles into the pillow and shuffles underneath me.
"Funny," I say, not moving, "you don't usually complain about my weight." I place another kiss on his back. "It's usually 'be on top, John' or 'I like it when you stay here, John'." He moans slightly and shifts against me, this time with the intention of increasing the contact between our bodies.
"I think we should do something that will make me say those things again." I can hear the smile in his voice and feel the slight shift in his hips.
"Mmmm." I move the hair away from his neck and place a kiss there. "Or we could order breakfast and go to the pool or down to the beach…"
He grunts. "Breakfast is acceptable, but I'd rather stay here."
"Whatever will we do all day?" I move to the side of his neck just beneath his ear. He turns his head so that it's easier for me.
"I can see no flaw in continuing your current… mmmm." His words trail off as I suck on the spot where neck meets shoulder. It's one of his favourite spots. "That's nice," he mumbles, his voice deeper than usual. It pangs through me and I use my teeth to bite down gently on the same spot. He pushes his body up into me and turns his face back into the pillow.
I lift my weight up and Sherlock twists underneath me. He wraps his arms around me and tries to pull me down. I resist him, he frowns for a minute before a smirk crosses his face. "Be on top, John," he says with a fake whine. I settle down on top of him and he groans. It reverberates through my body as I move my face down to continue my attention to his neck. He tilts his head so I have easy access and moves his hands down to squeeze my ass. He wraps one leg around me, flattening his foot against my calf. It's simple and yet one of my favorite sensations. I remember the first time he did it, an intimate moment a few days into our new relationship on another morning where we had nowhere to be.
The urge is sudden and it surprises me, just like it did on the way to the restaurant yesterday. I want to hug him, I want to pull him as close to me as I can and hold him. I manage to tuck one arm under his neck and the other one under his shoulder. I bury my face in his hair and just sit there. He shifts bringing his arms up to my back and squeezes me.
"John?" he asks, tentative about the sudden change in my actions.
I shake my head and can't say anything. Suddenly, I don't have the words. I shake my head again and gasp in a breath. "I love you," I manage.
He squeezes harder against my ribs, burying fingers into my hair. He moves his legs, wrapping them around my hips, completely securing me against him.
"I love you, too," he responds, placing a kiss against my shoulder.