Notes: This was an idea that popped into my head the other day. I think it'll end up being in five parts, but it may be more or less depending on what I decide to include. Basically, it will consist of snippets of John and Sherlock's life. I hope you enjoy them. :)

Blink of an Eye

"Here you are, John," Sherlock announced as he stepped through the door to the flat. The detective tossed a small red box to his flat mate then proceeded to take off his scarf and coat casually, just like any other day. John caught the box, turning it over in his hands with a furrowed brow. It was small enough to fit in his hands and covered in deep red velvet, broken only by the thin line that separated the lid from the bottom.

"What is it?" He looked over at Sherlock, who was pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Well, if you open it," he said, sounding a tad irritated. He turned his colorful eyes towards John, taking his mug with him as he sat down on his chair. He looked completely nonchalant, giving nothing away to the blogger as he sipped his drink.

Sighing, John flipped the lid open, marveling at the soft silk inside for only a moment. He was only able to focus on the white fabric for a few seconds, because tucked inside the silk, reflecting the light from the lamp, was a gold ring. He looked at it for a long time before blinking and staring at his flat mate.

"What is this?" He turned the box so Sherlock could see the piece of jewelry inside, just in case he had mistakenly given him something he shouldn't have.

"That would be a ring, John," he said, not even looking up from his tea.

"Yes, I know it's a ring." He licked his lips, willing the other man to at least make eye contact with him. He couldn't even begin to guess what the detective was thinking. "But why?"

Sherlock sighed and set down his tea in an exasperated manner, as if John was asking him to perform a monstrous task by asking him to explain. "Well, John," he said, steepling his fingers in front of his lips, "that's a wedding ring." He said it slowly and carefully, but he might as well have stood on the table and hit John upside the head with a hammer whilst screaming like a banshee.

The ex-army doctor gaped, the box in his hand feeling suddenly like a very large, very heavy brick. His heart sprang to his throat and his stomach dropped, making him unable to create a coherent thought. "Wh… What?" He blinked and licked his lips nervously, annoyed when Sherlock sat back in his chair and grabbed the newspaper, unfolding it to cover his face. "Sherlock?" There was no response, only a turn of the page. "Sherlock, are you asking me to marry you?"

"No." John's heart sank suddenly, and he found himself feeling hurt. Why was he hurt? He shouldn't be hurt. This was good, wasn't it?

"Oh," he muttered, trying to sound pleased but sounding kind of constipated instead.

"I don't need to ask," Sherlock said, lowering the paper so he was peering over. John gave him an inquiring look, and the detective smiled and set the paper down, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. "I already know the answer."

"Oh?" John felt indignant at being so easily read; he was not that predictable. "And what is my answer, Sherlock?" He spat out the name, hoping he sounded firm. His flat mate just smiled smugly back.

"I had the ring sized, so it will fit you. And I sent out invitations to your close relatives; I assume you want them to attend. I sent them to Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Lestrade, too, because you seem close. If you want anyone else invited or uninvited let me know, and I'll take care of it." He leaned back, seemingly finished. "Oh, and you're going in Friday to be fitted for your tux."

"You make it sound like I already said yes," John said, clenching his jaw tightly.

"You have." John was about to ask what he meant, but Sherlock raised an eyebrow and one half of his mouth. "You put the ring on right after I said it would fit." He pointed to his hand, and when John looked down, sure enough, the ring was resting on his finger comfortably. He didn't even remember doing that.

Sherlock grabbed the paper and hid his face behind it again, leaving John to sit back and stare at his finger. He found himself laughing, and when his flat mate —fiancé, he reminded himself happily —asked him why, he just shrugged and shook his head, because he really had no idea.

Notes: Hello again. If it's not too much to ask, I was wondering if perhaps I could have your opinions on future chapters. I've been back and forth about them having a kid, so I wonder if any of you want to see them have a kid or not? It would only be one or two of the stories included(and it would also make it seven or eight parts instead). If I could have your input that would help me loads. Thank you very much! :)