A/N: First of all, I'm sorry for publishing this chapter so late, I recently got a part in a big theatre show and I've been really busy working my ass off for it, but I tried my best to write in between the rehearsal. I'm really grateful for the reviews. WhatHo, Shadows. in. the. moon, EliMays, and Nannily. After you leave the reviews, I've been trying to write better, but I'm still learning, so— :3 hope you can forgive me.

Second, this chapter (and the next few chapter) are going to be different. I'm going to use the character's POV and—jjfgsljgfdsk I want to explained it, but I don't want to spoiled the next one, so I just gonna say, hang on a bit for this chapter.

And lastly, I want to thanks my wonderful friends, ChocolateFrogsForMoony and Eli, for beta-ing all the previous chapter. I just finished re-uploading them all.

Chapter 6: Bad Luck

Mary's POV

You know how the groom seeing the bride before the wedding can bring bad luck? I cannot say that I didn't believe it, but I guess I'm not superstitious enough to cast away the idea of seeing him before the wedding. Especially because he hadn't showed up until now and we can't contacted him all morning. Kate told me not to worry, but I saw her phoning Mike like a madman herself.

After 30 minutes of panic, Mike sent her a text, which was a huge relief to us. "Okay, they are on their way." Kate sighed and continued to scrolled the text. "In 10 minutes." She clenched her jaw. "Great, now I have to tell everyone that they'll arrive shortly. You," She pointed at me, emphasising her word. "stay right here."

I know I should listen to her, but I really need to see John.

I'm not as ignorant as everybody thought. I knew all about John and Sherlock for such a long time. The detective and his blogger. I knew him before I even met him. Yes, I read his blog, but he wasn't aware of that. As far as he know, I never read his blog.

At first I thought that everything John posted on his blog was an utter rubbish. An entertaining rubbish, mind you. But my opinion change after The Reichenbach case. Sherlock's name was on the newspaper, solving difficult case, just like any other cases that John posted in his blog. For the first time, I believe that Sherlock was not a made up super genius human character, he really was a genius detective. He was real, and John posted their adventure together.

Then Moriarty case came up. There's something unusual about that case. John wrote a short post about it; saying how disturbed Sherlock was with Moriarty's behaviour. He said Moriarty was too sloppy, and thus, he must be planning something. It was clear that both John and Sherlock didn't like him, not that they ever showed fondness upon criminals either. To be honest, I didn't like him either. His confidence and calmness was a little unnerving for me. Sherlock was right though, because not long after the trial, the jury decided that he was innocent. I'm baffled with the news, how can he escape being sentenced, when he was obviously did it? And then, it gets worse. The media started doubting Sherlock. They said Sherlock was a fraud; that he invented all the crimes that he had solved, including Moriarty. Now, that's just not makes sense, right?

Days later, Kate came to me, knowing that I am one of many people who enjoyed reading Sherlock's adventure, saying that I probably wouldn't hear any new story about the detective, because Sherlock is dead. She handed me the paper, and it was right there. The big headline 'Suicide of Fake Genius'. It says that Sherlock took his own life because he can't handled the fact that people knew about his scam. I was taken aback by the news, and so my faith in Sherlock was shaken. Why would he jumped, if he really was innocent? But, I don't know. It's not like I'm his best friend or something, maybe there's another reason. I wouldn't know about it, wouldn't I? John would.

John. That poor sod, I cannot imagine what he had been through. I mean I know from the way he dedicate his blog for Sherlock that he cares about him, that he trust him. It must be hard for him, especially because the news mentioned that John was one of the people who saw him jumped. God forbid, but I'm too nosy to quit sticking my nose on this matter. I want to know what John will say in his eulogy, so when I overheard someone in the market mentioning his service I determined to go there.

All that I know he's not widely known for his hospitality, but there's a lot of people at his service. And when I say a lot, I mean massive. The seat were full, and a lot of people had to stood. I heard lots of people talking about him, saying how Sherlock help them and how they're grateful for what he did, even though he's a dick for most of the time. How can a fraud detective have such so many people attending his service? It's not a solid prove, but now, I believe that Sherlock is innocent.

One of the reason I went there was John, so when I found out that he didn't go to the funeral, I felt a little disappointed. Why did he not go to his best friend funeral was a mystery to me. Mystery that I figured out over a month after we first met.

It was 8 month ago. We, Kate and I, went to a pub for celebrating things that I don't even remember. He sat in front of the bar with two other man, deep in their conversation. I nearly overlooked him, luckily, I heard him mentioning Sherlock. That was when I really sees him. He has a sandy coloured hair, with light blue eyes. John catched a glimpse of me staring at him before I pulled Kate to the nearest available seat.

Even though it been more than two years, I still interested in their story. John and Sherlock's story. Obviously Kate being unusually sharp whenever I want to hide something. She said that she caught me secretly (but failed miserably) staring at him, every time I got a chance to. After fifteen minutes of denial and persuasion, Kate finally succeeded to make me to go and talk to him.

He was already alone by the time I finally plucked up my courage and made my way through the crowd. I sat beside him, but before I even think of an opening line, I heard his voice.

"Should have done it twenty minutes ago."

I was the only one near to him, but I wasn't sure he talked to me. Hell, I'm not even sure that he was the one who talked. I turned to him and asked weakly. "What?"

"You," He sipped his drink. "sitting here."

"What?" I repeated my word, but this time a little louder.

"I saw you staring to this direction when you entered the pub and when your friend not talking to you, you tend to look this way, so I thought you want to sit here for some reason."

"How do you even know that?"

"Well, the mirror behind the bar helps a lot." He twisted his body to my direction and smile. He looks cuter than what I saw in the paper.

"I'm Mary Morstan," I offered my hand which soon covered with his warm and electrical hand.

"I'm John Watson."

"I know."

"You know me?" He asked rather confused.

I want to say that I know him because I read his blog, but that sound too—stalkerish, so I smiled and altered the truth a little. "Yes, I thought I knew you from somewhere, and my friend over there," I pointed Kate, whom smiled awkwardly, "Says that I might recognise you from the paper or your blog. You're John Watson, the blogger."

Now he turned his body to me. "I don't believe people still remember my blog, leave alone read—it."

"I don't read it. She" I'm gesturing to Kate "did. I just read the newspaper's version. People says it more—" I waved my hand vaguely, trying to find the right word. "—objective." Lie. It was the other way around. Newspapers are rubbish.

"No, they are far from objective. They often change the fact just because they thought people will love the twist they give. In other words, they are manipulative." John turned his body back to the bar. Seconds later I realised that I'm supposed to asked him for 'the truth'.

"So what's the truth then?"

Then John begun to tell everything. He started from the very beginning of their meeting. It's like re-reading his whole blog, but with more detail. It was so good to see him told their story that way. I thought he would look a little depressed when he told their story, but he don't. Well, maybe he is, I just don't know him well enough that time to realise whether he was just acting or not. Now that I know him well, I'm able to spot him when he masked something.

If I wasn't already believe in Sherlock, then I would be. I don't know how he does it, but he brainwashed me into believing in Sherlock. We talked so easily that I even forgot about Kate. Luckily, she found her own 'entertainment' so she didn't mind. At the end of our conversation, we agreed to have lunch together two days after that, and ever since that lunch, we always have managed to go out three times a week.

After a month, I became really close to John. I begin to understand him, begin to truly knew him. Many could be deceived by his act, but not me. He seems okay, he laughed, he smiled, he carries on, but there's something that broken inside. I know for a fact that he's in love with Sherlock. I had suspected it from the first time, but I dismissed the idea because I know that John only dates women. It didn't even occurred to me that he might be a bisexual. It solved the mystery of his absence at the funeral. John loves Sherlock too much to even handled seeing him buried. I know I don't have the right to be angry, but I'm angry for Sherlock to leave John like this.

I swore to myself that I'll do anything to make John feel better. And I did my best to make him forget by acting like I don't know anything about his feeling toward Sherlock.

It took me a month to accepted that my reasons to make John smile is not because I want my friend to be happy, but because I want the one that I love to be happy. Damn right I feel in love with him. It was stupid. He loves Sherlock and I will never win.

That's why I'm surprised with my own action when I kissed him. I thought that kissing him will definitely put him off and that'll be the last time I saw him, but he reciprocated it. He was hesitant at first, but after a few moment his lips started to move with mine. It was sweet and loving kiss for a minute, then he slowly pulled back. He went without another word, even after I told him I'll call him later. That moment, my hope flickered back to life.

But then it died, again.

He didn't return my call or my text for days. I thought maybe he just too polite to rejected me when we kissed, but John's not like that, he will tell me even if it will tampered our relationship. Exactly seven days after we kissed, my door bell rang and he was there, leaned to my door frame, shoulder slumped like a lost puppy. I called his name, and he looked at me. He kissed me again. This time, he didn't hold anything back.

I'm not that naïve, to believe that John already forget about Sherlock. But I also not that pathetic to dwell on that fact. I asked him to moved in with me. I'm not even regret it when he said that it was too fast. I told you, I will do anything to make him forget.

About three months ago, John proposed to me. I'm surprised and thrilled, I cannot contained myself not to ranted about how happy I was. That was when I realised that he might probably proposed me because of something that he found while he back to Baker Street for a chat with Mrs. Hudson earlier that week. But that's when he suddenly looked very serious and said that he love me. It was the first time he said it. And I know from his look that he mean it. I knew he would fall in love with me eventually.

The next few months, was easy. John finally agreed to move in with me, meet my whole family. I was over the moon because everything seems falling into place, but this early morning he didn't return my phone. It might be just me being a paranoid, but I can sensed that this might be the rock that will bring me down. In the end, it doesn't matter if it was just paranoid, I need so see him. I need to make sure that he still want to get married. So when Kate leave the room ten minutes ago, I went to his room and hide there until he arrived.

It was easier to say than done. Sneaking around the church which filled with our families was hard, not to mention my limited movement that caused by the fluffy dress that I wore. Minutes later, I succeeded breaking into the groom's lounge. I've been waiting for almost six minutes before the door finally opened.

The first man I saw was John. He look disturbed and in a bad mood. Mike was soon followed after him. He stared at his phone, he looked panic. When he was about to say something, I stepped out from the dark corner of the room.

"John, what happened, dear."

His expression snapped from disturbed to confused. Both of the men called out my name in surprise, but only John approached me. Mike frantically typed something on his phone and went outside the room.

"I need to see you John."

"Is there anything wrong?" John hugged me for a brief moment and pushed me away for an inspection.

I faintly heard Mike's voice informing Kate that he found me and I was in the groom's lounge room.

"I'm okay John, I just need to see you. Why can't we call you this entire morning?"

Mike was reentering the room, mumbling complain that he almost get a heart attack from my sudden appearance. Mike sighed before soften his tone. "You shouldn't be here, Mary. It will bring bad luck." Mike said.

"I know. I just want to know why he—" Before I can finished my sentence, the door burst open.

"There you are, Mary!" Kate huffed as she walked in to the room. She worried and absolutely pissed; If I'm not feeling worried myself about John, I'll feel bad for her. "Come on, you've seen him now, he's okay, so let's go back to your room." She gripped my arm to pulled me off the room, but I wiggled myself free and walked toward John.

"I just need a minute, Kate." I said to her when she tried to gripped my arm again. "What happened John?"

Mike and John shared a look. John sighed before replying. "I met Lestrade."

"Wait, Lestrade...the DI Lestrade?" I know him only from John's story (and his blog, but he doesn't know that). He sounds like a nice bloke before... Well, before he made a great fool out of himself. He knew perfectly well that John is forever Sherlock's finest believer. I mean why poke the dragon? "What does he said?"

"Nothing. I stopped him before he can say anything."

The room stays quiet for a while and Kate petted my arm gently.

"Well, now that you know that john's fine, can you come with me?"

I nodded and followed her out of the lounge. I turned my head a couple of times to take a peak at John. His expression was unreadable. Something's not right, but I let it go.

"This is really happening." I grinned at Kate nervously. She scanned me from head to toe.

"Well, you look irritatingly happy." Kate fixed my veil once again. "I can't believe you married first." She sniffled but then smiled with teary eyes. "I hope you two will be happy."

"Thank you." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "Now, remember, I will throw the bouquet to my left side, okay?" I winked and she laughed.

"Okay, I'm gonna head off now." She walked and just before she disappeared behind the church door I heard her saying. "Good luck."

I nodded even though she didn't look back. Suddenly I felt so alone outside the church. James Watson, John's father offered himself to walk me through the aisle, but I politely refused, since I promised my father that he will be the only one who can walked me to my husband. He died before I even met John.

The door opened, and that was my cue to walk.

Everybody slowly rose up from their seat while gazing at me. The 'Cannon' heaved lovingly as I walk down the aisle. I smiled at them before finally darted my eyes to John, whom was more interested in his shoes than me. Shouldn't he like— gawking at me, looked stunned like everybody else or at least looking at me?

I nearly reached half way when he raised his face. I tried to smile, but his body language was making me nervous. Weirdly enough, I didn't even surprised when he mumbled sorry and then run past me, making his way out of the church.

Any thoughts?