One week before the wedding.....
"Come on, (Y/n)!" Enola shouts.
I run after her, dodging a few people along the way. An older woman gasps as I brush past her.
"Isn't that the woman Sherlock Holmes is marrying?" she asks.
I nod to the woman, "Yes, ma'am!"
Enola grabs my arm and pulls me with her, the two of us laughing as we run. A very distraught Lestrade runs after us, his hands covering the top of his head.
"You have both humiliated me!" he yells.
I laugh loudly, "It's not our fault you're bald!"
Allow me to help you get caught up.
You see, Enola and I hadn't planned on exposing Lestrade's bald head to everyone in the police station. It wasn't Enola's fault that she accidentally knocked his hat off, along with his toupée.
"If you two don't stop, I will never give you a case!"
Enola and I stop, our feet skidding against the dirt. Lestrade catches up to us and doubles over as he tries to catch his breath. He holds a finger up, signaling us to be quiet.
He finally stands up straight, "How dare you knock my hat off! You should never touch a man's hat!"
"I agree. There's no telling what secrets a man hides under his hat," a familiar voice says.
Sherlock stands next to me, his hand grabbing mine as soon as he's by my side. I stare up at him in shock, "How did you get here so fast?"
He was in the police station when it happened, but he didn't run after us. So, how was he here?
"I took the shortcut," he answers.
Lestrade sighs, "Of course you did."
"Relax, Lestrade. It's perfectly normal to begin balding at your age," John says, joining us as well.
Lestrade's eyes widen, "I'll remember you said that, Dr. Watson."
"I'm sure you will," John says.
Sherlock nods, "We'll be going now. We have much to discuss."
"Ah, yes. Wedding planning, have fun with that," says Lestrade.
"We better see you at the wedding," I say, smiling.
Lestrade smiles, "Of course."
We begin to walk away, but Enola shoves her way through Sherlock and I. She pushes her brother aside and takes my hand.
"I was thinking you could wear a wig at the wedding. Just like the one you tried on at the shop."
"Absolutely not," I say, laughing.
She continues rambling, and I look up to meet Sherlock's eyes. We share a loving gaze as the four of us walk to the apartment where Timothée and Tewkesbury are waiting.
I love Sherlock Holmes, and he loves me. And because of that, I can finally live in peace.
YOU ARE READING
No Shit, Sherlock
同人小说Twenty-three year old (Y/n) (L/n) is an intelligent and well respected woman and an incredible poet with a well known published book. Although, at times she can be irrational, stubborn, aggressive, and sometimes even a little inappropriate. She's d...
