Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it does not belong to me.
Falling
by Naranne
By all accounts, it should have been the happiest day of my life.
I tell myself that it is normal to have jitters, that the flutter of trepidation in my breast is something every bride-groom feels. I reassure myself that the wedding will go ahead as planned, I calm myself with the thought that my worries are for naught.
And when the image of London's only consulting detective flickers into being in my mind's eye, his favourite pipe held nonchalantly in one hand and the dark eyes full of the fierce determination that comes with his pursuit of a case, I resolutely stamp down on the small pang of regret. I ignore the fact that there is something in his expression that even I cannot place, and remind myself that this is for the best.
Mary is radiant.
After all, this is the day that every woman dreams about as a child, is it not?
Her dress is simple; the white is embroidered delicately, but that is its only decoration. However, the way that she carries herself as she walks down the aisle toward me, hand placed demurely on her father's arm and the world's most beautific smile across her visage, she seems as if she were clad in a gown fit for the Queen herself. To me there is no-one more beautiful, and I could not take my eyes from her nor stop the nervous grin stealing its way across my face even if I wanted to.
I cannot stop my mind wandering, if only for the barest of seconds.
I know he is there – I do not have to look to know he is resting at ease in one of the very back pews of the church, to know he has already memorised every minute detail of each guest. I know that even as he watches my bride-to-be and I, the cogs in that beautiful mind are continuing to turn; I could not hope to distract him from something so very important for any length of time. I do not – could not – tear my gaze from Mary, yet my mind lingers at the rear of the church, on my erstwhile friend and partner that remains half-hidden in shadow, come to support his Boswell even though he fought my engagement every step of the way.
And somehow, as I stand before all those who have come with tears and smiles and cheers and waves, as I harken to the priest and say my lines, vowing to stay by her side until death do us part, I find that Holmes' uncharacteristically quiet acceptance stings more than if he had not deigned to show at all.
"Because falling's not the problem, when I'm falling I'm at peace. It's only when I hit the ground it causes all the grief."
A/N: IDK. It just sort of happened. Posted over at LJ, as usual.
I realise it's overdone, etc., etc.. Oh well. X3
Naranne