Loud music reverberated around the large room as John made his way through the stream of guests, smiling at those who caught his eye and thanking people who congratulated him.

"John!"

The doctor spun and looked at the elder couple stood in front of him, each clutching a champagne flute.

"Congratulations dear." the woman smiled, rubbing his arm in a friendly manner. John forced himself not to take a step back as they crowded in on him.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hunter." he answered, returning a smile to Mary's aunt and uncle.

"Married at last, eh son?" Mr. Hunter nudged him in the side, placing a beefy arm around the doctor's shoulders. "Feels good, don' it?"

"Yes, it's great." John said, trying not to squirm. Mr Hunter was very obviously drunk.

"Say, how's the arm?" he asked, grasping John's left arm. The doctor managed not to wince and subtly removed his arm from Mr Hunter's grip.

"Getting better." the doctor said. "I got the sling off a few days ago, so it should be right as rain soon enough."

"Uncle Evan, I hope you're not harassing my husband?"

Blessedly, Mary appeared on John's right, lightly gripping his elbow. He had never been more happy to see her.

"Never, my dear." Mr Hunter said, removing his arm and stepping next to his wife, watching the newlyweds with a proud smile.

"You look beautiful, love." Mrs Hunter sighed, beaming at Mary.

"Thank you, Aunt Phoebe. Actually, if you'll excuse us, I need a quick word with John."

"Of course." Phoebe Hunter waved them off. "We shan't interrupt the happy couple." she added with a wink.

John and Mary both smiled again before turning and heading towards the bar. John took two champagne flutes off a plate held by a passing waiter and then faced Mary, leaning against the bar.

"I could kiss you right now." he said, taking a sip of his drink and handing the other glass to his wife.

Mary grinned. "They're a bit overbearing, aren't they? Especially drunk."

"You could have warned me."

"That the majority of my family don't know the meaning of personal space? I thought I'd let you find that out for yourself. Let you know what you've gotten yourself into."

John chuckled and pecked her on the cheek. "No regrets." he smiled. "And anyway, I've spent four years living with someone who has no concept of personal space. I think I'll manage."

Mary nodded. "Where is he, anyway? I saw him a few minutes ago but he keeps moving about." she said, looking across the dance floor.

John too scanned the room, and it wasn't long before he spotted Sherlock, sitting alone at a table and watching everyone with a bored expression. The doctor shook his head.

"I'll be back in a bit." he said and Mary nodded, already being engaged by another family member.

John strode across the floor and snatched another champagne flute before sitting down next to Sherlock, the detective watching him suspiciously.

"I would've thought you'd want to be with Mary." he said over the music, which seemed to be louder this end of the room. He accepted the offered drink and waited for an answer.

John shrugged. "She doesn't mind." he said loudly.

Sherlock nodded and continued his examination of the room, watching people dance and generally have a good time.

John watched him closely. "You're not enjoying yourself, are you?"

The detective looked over to him. "What makes you think that?" he asked, frowning as the DJ turned the volume up louder when a new song began.

John shook his head. "Come on." he called, touching Sherlock's arm as he rose and waited for the younger man to get up also. The two wound their way through the many guests until they were out of the room and walking down a corridor towards the exit.

The cool night air hit their faces as they stepped out, and John moved forward to sit on one of the steps leading up to the building. He felt Sherlock sit down next to him moments later.

"You didn't have to come if you didn't want to." John said, sipping at the champagne.

"It's not all that bad." Sherlock replied, and John chuckled.

"Well that's good." he smiled. Sherlock smirked and also drank some of his drink. He pulled a face and scowled at the glass.

"Still not one for alcohol." he muttered. John looked across at him.

"There's pineapple juice in Mary's car if you want it."

There was a brief pause, and John tried not to laugh when he realised Sherlock was considering it. "This'll be fine." the detective eventually said.

Silence reigned for a few minutes as both men looked out across the large gravel driveway. Fairy lights illuminated a number of paths if guests chose to take a walk, and the lights were also hung in various trees, lighting up the place and creating a very romantic setting.

John glanced across to Sherlock, who was still staring at something ahead of him. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you for being my best man." he said quietly, and Sherlock's icy grey eyes met his soft hazel ones.

"It's fine." the detective murmured, looking straight again. "I wasn't too bad, was I?"

"What makes you think you were bad at all?" John asked, frowning slightly.

"Well... it's me." Sherlock said, a bitter smile forming. "I don't do these... social niceties very often – rather, not at all, so I'm somewhat out of practice."

"Well, your speech was... peculiar." John said, and Sherlock grimaced. "But it was perfect, don't worry. You did great."

Sherlock nodded, and they simultaneously took a sip of their drinks. The detective tried not to pull another face at the taste.

"How is your arm?" he asked after a beat.

"Healing." John replied. "The injury wasn't that serious so it was never going to take too long."

Sherlock shifted. "Yes, but it did suffer some... trauma, afterwards. Due to me."

John shook his head. "You didn't cause any extra damage, though, so it's fine."

"It's not fine." Sherlock argued.

"You were angry–"

"Yes, angry enough to grab your injured limb – and I knew it was injured – and all but wrench it away." Sherlock spat, a dark expression crossing his face.

"Hey," John said softly, "I don't blame you or anything, and you shouldn't blame yourself either. It was understandable; I know I got in your way and crowded you, and you just needed to get out. Nothing serious came out of it, so just forget about it, hmm?"

Sherlock sighed heavily and his hand moved towards his pocket. He paused suddenly, and glanced across at John guiltily.

"Go ahead." John waved his hand. "You don't have to listen to me anymore."

Sherlock pulled out his cigarette packet and stared down at it, obviously torn between taking one and doing what he knew John would want, even if the doctor would never say it.

John eyed him closely, narrowing his eyes. "I mean it, Sherlock. Do what you want."

The detective weighed the packet in hand, bouncing the box a few times and still trying to make up his mind. Eventually, he offered the packet to John, who frowned.

"Why are you giving it to me? I don't smoke." he said, confused.

"Just take it." Sherlock said shortly. "Before I change my mind."

Slowly, John extended his hand and Sherlock dropped the packet onto it. Silently, the doctor put the cigarettes in his pocket.

"May as well start now." Sherlock muttered, and John smiled to himself.

"How's Mycroft?" John asked, going for a change of subject. "I haven't seen much of him this past fortnight."

Sherlock shrugged. "What he does is no concern of mine." he answered. John chuckled.

"So it's back to the sibling rivalry thing is it?" The doctor smiled. "Well, he seemed happy in there." He inclined his head towards the building. "I wouldn't have thought he'd want to come, but I suppose anybody who watches Greg dance drunk is going to be entertained." The detective rolled his eyes.

"Really, John, there was no need to invite my brother." he sniffed.

"There was every need." John replied. "I figured he wouldn't want to be left out."

Sherlock snorted and the doctor grinned.

"Okay, that wasn't why I invited him." he said. "Mary did, actually. You should've been there when we asked him. He got all flustered, it was brilliant."

Sherlock laughed. "Yes, he never did know how to react when he got invited to things. He always accepted out of courtesy, even if he didn't want to go." John smiled, imagining all the birthday parties the two Holmes brothers must have been forced to attend.

Sherlock's phone suddenly dinged, and he pulled it from his pocket, reading the text. He pursed his lips together and stiffly placed his phone back in his jacket pocket. John watched his suspicious behaviour and squinted his eyes.

"Who was it from?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in interest.

Sherlock shrugged. "No one important." he said, looking away. This did nothing to alleviate John's suspicions so, convinced Sherlock wasn't watching, he ever so gently slid two fingers into the detective's pocket and quickly pulled his phone out, mentally cheering when Sherlock didn't feel it. He unlocked the phone and went to the messages inbox. It was from DI Dimmock.

"Ooh, triple murder." he said, and Sherlock's head snapped round. "Sounds exciting."

"Give that here." The younger man made a move to snatch the phone back, but John held it away, his arm extended.

"If you want to go, you can always ask." John said as his other hand held back Sherlock and prevented him from launching himself towards the phone.

"I don't want to go." he argued. "I'm happy here."

"Liar." John chuckled, before tossing back the mobile. Sherlock caught it easily and stuffed it in his inner pocket, causing another laugh to escape John. The detective straightened his suit and shuffled away from John.

"Go, you muppet." John said, nudging Sherlock in the side with his elbow. "It's fine."

Sherlock looked across to him, trying to work out if he was lying. "You're certain?" he asked.

"Of course." John replied. "Though I'm afraid I can't go with you, you know, what with just being married and all that."

Sherlock smiled and raised his champagne flute. "To a long and happy marriage, Dr Watson, however dull it may be."

John laughed and they both clinked glasses. Sherlock downed his drink in one and raced off into the night.

"Nutter." John said to himself, smiling and finishing his champagne before getting up and going inside to find his wife.

A/N: And there we are. Thank you to everyone who has read this story, and I hoped you've all enjoyed it. Thanks also to those who have reviewed/favourite/followed; it really means a lot.