John stood speechless with his mouth hanging open as he stared at the man standing less than two feet away from him. This had to be a dream. Some sort of wild hallucination created by a delirious and despondent mind, but one look around at everyone's faces and he knew he was not alone in seeing this.

Sherlock Holmes was at his wedding.

Sherlock Holmes was interrupting his wedding.

Sherlock Holmes was not dead.

Before Sherlock could even open his mouth to speak, John was storming towards him and had grabbed his hand. Sherlock allowed himself to be dragged to the back of the church, and while neither man looked over his shoulders as they walked John did mutter some sort of apology before he opened the door and forcefully tugged Sherlock outside. He pulled Sherlock along until they were quite a ways away from the church, then finally released his hand and turned to face him. He kept his head angled downward and stared at Sherlock's shoes while his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Sherlock watched with a frown on his face while John began shaking, and it took all of his strength not to reach out and engulf him in a tight embrace.

"John, I-" John held up a hand and silenced him. When he lifted his eyes to meet Sherlock's they were red and shining and it was obvious he was holding back tears. Whether they were tears of joy, of anger, or of embarrassment Sherlock couldn't tell. His inability to read John clearly had always been both fascinating and irritating to him. They remained in silence for several moments while John collected himself. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Sherlock, John looked seemed ready to talk. He opened his mouth again, but the look John gave him caused him to keep quiet.

"Alright," John said, his voice admirably steady, "You've got exactly thirty seconds to explain yourself."

"Before what?" Sherlock asked facetiously, obviously fighting back a laugh. John could feel his blood begin to boil, despite the fact that the sight of Sherlock's smile after having gone so long without it was one of the greatest things John had ever seen. He pressed his lips into a firm line and narrowed his eyes at Sherlock, who seemed to finally understand that John's request was serious, and rambled a bit before he was able to form any coherent sentence.

"I tried to contact you, I really did. There was a mix up with a man named Jim. You wouldn't happen to actually know a man named Jim, would you?" John shook his head. "Great, well, that's where everything started to go wrong, and it was all downhill from there. John I know I was upset and our last conversation did not end on a good note but you must believe me when I say it was never my intention to actually disappear or do anything rash." Sherlock took in a much needed breath and prepared to continue, but John held up his hand again and Sherlock remained silent.

"If you're not... dead, then why would your brother-"

"My brother is a complete and total arse who for some reason thought my dying would be the best thing for me. He didn't even have the audacity to tell me what he'd done." Sherlock bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't see him for months and then he shows up out of the blue to say 'John's getting married in two days and oh by the way he thinks you're dead'." By this point John could practically see the smoke spilling from Sherlock's ears as he recalled his most recent conversation with his brother. "I mean, the nerve of him. He's lucky I was able to book a flight in time to get here because I swear if you had married that woman without-" He paused suddenly, his eyes growing wide. John reached out and placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. He tried not to focus on how long it had been since he'd been able to touch this man, or on the fact that he never thought he'd be able to touch him again, but he felt his grip tighten as he looked up into Sherlock's stormy eyes.

"Sherlock, what is it?"

"This is your wedding day." John shrugged and dropped his hand.

"I'm not so sure there's going to be a wedding."

"Oh god," Sherlock groaned, covering his face with his hands. "What have I done?"

"Sherlock-"

"I've ruined everything! This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but I was selfish and insensitive and I've ruined it. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left rehab. I just..." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, and though he continued talking John heard none of what he said.

"You- You left rehab? To come here?" Sherlock met his gaze and nodded his head.

"Yes. You see, John. I've been in a rehabilitory center located in Southern California for the past few months. I checked myself out two days ago upon learning about your engagement and came straight here." He dropped his gaze and shook his head, as if he'd done anything to be ashamed of. John was thoroughly touched at the lengths Sherlock had gone through to get back to John. It was like something out of a romance novel. John could feel a warmth spreading throughout his chest and he smiled at Sherlock, whose eyes were still downcast.

"You went to rehab. You checked yourself in and got clean because I asked you to."

"No."

"No?"

"No, John. I didn't get clean simply because you asked me to. I did it because I thought you would... you might want me if I..." He sighed and shrugged. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'd always been able to remain rational, to not let my heart rule over my head." He kept his eyes trained on the ground and John could see his shoulders sag. "I suppose we all do senseless things when we're in love."

"What- love?" John felt as if he'd been punched in the solar plexus, and the wind had been completely knocked out of him. Sherlock briefly met his eyes before looking away once more and nodding.

"Yes, John. I, Sherlock Holmes, have indeed fallen victim to sentimentality, and I do love you John Watson, very much. I'm sorry, I tried not to... but it's impossible. My love for you is something I cannot delete. I  am- mmmph!"

Sherlock was cut off as John grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him forward into a fervent kiss. Their lips collided and both men felt as if everything around them simply disappeared, and all that mattered was the man in front of him and the pair of lips so forcefully pressed against his own. Sherlock's hands found his way to John's shoulders before he cupped his face and stroked his cheek with his thumb. John sighed into the kiss, and Sherlock took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside John's mouth. It was an intrusion John willingly allowed, and soon he found that he still wasn't close enough to Sherlock. He wrapped his arms around the detective's lean frame and held him as close as he could, silently promising to never let go with every flick of the tongue and playful nip on Sherlock's plump bottom lip.

They separated momentarily to catch their breath, and soon they were back at it. Months of worry, of tension, of grief melted away as John melted into Sherlock's kiss, and when they finally parted he kept his arms around Sherlock, hands clutching at the fabric of his suit while Sherlock's large hands continued to hold John's face only a centimetre from his own. Blue eyes held grey as they took the time to adjust to what they'd just done, realized the magnitude of what had been confessed, and accepted it with a small nod of the head and a chaste kiss.

"Don't be sorry," John said, pulling away from Sherlock a bit reluctantly, "because I love you too."

Sherlock's face instantly lit up and he pressed his lips against John's once more. This kiss was slow and sweet, yet still as passionate as the first had been. This kiss was reassurance, it was the resolution of a battle that had been fought for far too long, and  it was the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. John couldn't wait to turn the next page.

"So John, what do we do now?" Sherlock asked after they'd fully caught their breath.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a church full of people who have gathered to see your wedding. I seriously hope you don't intend to go through with your marriage-"

"Of course not," John said quickly, his grip on Sherlock tightening. "How could I?" Sherlock just stared at him, and when John finally realized the seriousness of the situation he let go of Sherlock, bringing a hand up to run through his overly-styled hair. "My god, what are we going to do?" He looked to Sherlock, who was staring down at him with softened eyes and an amused smile on his face. "This isn't funny, Sherlock! Am I just supposed to go back in there and tell them that all of a sudden I don't want to get married because the person I really love has basically just come back from the dead and now there's no one else I could imagine myself being with?"

"Well you could," a female voice said from not too far away. Both John and Sherlock turned their heads to see Mary approaching them, a spurious smile on her face. "But I don't really think that would blow over too well. And I have to admit I would be terribly embarrassed."

"Mary," John sighed and took a step towards her. "I'm really sorry about all this."

"I know you are John."

"I must apologize as well," Sherlock offered, coming to stand beside John. Mary just shrugged.

"I don't blame you for wanting him for yourself. He's a great guy." Sherlock and John shared a pained look. "Don't you two feel bad. John was never mine to have anyways. I only said yes to him because I thought you were dead." She gave Sherlock a pointed look and he stared down at the ground. "As long as Sherlock Holmes is alive and breathing John Watson doesn't belong to me." She smiled at John, but he could see the sadness in her eyes.

"Now, what are we to do with all these people?" John shrugged.

"Tell them that an issue has come up and we have to postpone the wedding. Then, when the time is right, we'll tell everyone that there won't be a wedding." Mary swallowed hard and nodded.

"Alright, but if anyone asks, I dumped you."

"Fine by me." John admired how well Mary was handling this. He knew that if someone had barged into his wedding and stolen Sherlock from him he'd be a complete wreck. Just the thought of him losing Sherlock again was almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

John felt an arm resting heavily on his shoulder, and sent a grateful look at Sherlock, who simply smiled back. He must have known exactly what John was thinking. John leaned into Sherlock until he could rest his head against his shoulder, and Mary sighed again.

"I must say you two look good together. Now run along, get outta here. I'll go deliver the news." John looked to Sherlock, who simply nodded his head, then began guiding John to the main road. John thought about it, but decided not to look over his shoulder as they made their way from the church.

"So, where exactly are we going? I mean, I imagine I'll have to get my stuff out of Mary's house but I don't really have anywhere to take them."

"Well, lucky for you I happen to know of a vacancy. It's a lovely little place on Baker Street. I'm sure we could afford it together."

"Sherlock, is this your way of asking me to move in with you?"

"Of course. We've been flatmates in the past so we're already accustomed to each other's eccentricities-" John cleared his throat, and Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Alright, you're already used to my eccentricities and I'm not afraid of you leaving me once you find out that I like to experiment in the kitchen or that I play the violin at odd hours of the night because you've already been exposed to it and you didn't seem to mind then."

"Gee, when you put it like that..." Sherlock sighed, but John could see the smile playing at his lips. He wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist and pulled him closer. "I'd be delighted to move in with you, Mr. Holmes."

___________________________________________________________

The only sound that could be heard in the flat was that of John's typing and the cars speeding by on the street below, so when the front door to 221B Baker Street opened and footsteps began ascending the stairs, John could hear it loud and clear. He was already up and making his way to the door when Sherlock burst through it. His face was tired and his eyes looked equally as so, but they still lit up a bit when Sherlock saw John coming towards him.

John greeted Sherlock with a peck on the lips and stood back to watch as Sherlock removed his coat, hanging it onto the rack beside the door.

"So?" he asked anxiously when Sherlock began taking off his scarf.

"They caught him." John breathed a sigh of relief and could feel his entire body relaxing. Sherlock saw the smile on John's face and smiled in return, obviously glad to see his lover so content. Then again, he was quite relieved as well. Mycroft's men had managed to finally track down the elusive 'Jim from IT', who had apparently been selling Sherlock's secrets to those who claimed to be enemies of the consulting detective under an alias.

Sherlock had to keep from laughing as he thought about the entire situation. Surely this wannabe criminal would have been aware that after two years the information within the letter would be false, but apparently he'd fled the country as soon as he got the letter, planning only to return once he thought Sherlock would have forgotten about it. He told John the entire story as he made them both tea, and John had laughed.

"Well, I'm just glad that's all over now," he commented, handing Sherlock his cup.

"Indeed." Sherlock followed John out into the sitting room and they took up residence at the desk in the centre of the room. "So, did anything interesting happen while I was gone?" Sherlock knew nothing had, but he asked anyway. It was another attempt at 'chatting', which, though he'd told John he would never try again, he he had decided he would master. Small talk was an art form, after all, and Sherlock had always been gifted in the arts department.

"Actually, I got an email from Mary." Sherlock's entire body tensed, and John saw it even from across the table.

"Oh?" Sherlock took a sip of his tea and pretended to be nonchalant, but John could see right through his facade.

"Sherlock, before you go freaking yourself out, she wasn't trying to win me back. Not like she could anyway." He saw the slight relaxing of Sherlock's face and smiled. "In fact, it seemed she only wrote me to tell me she's moved on. She's gotten engaged again, to a man she met at work." John pulled the email back up so he could re-read it and relay its contents to Sherlock. "She said in about a month she'll no longer be a Morstan, but rather a Moran, and actually thanked us both for breaking her heart."

"She thanked us?"

"Yes, Sherlock, us. It was a joint effort. If you hadn't interrupted our wedding and if I hadn't chosen you over her that day she said she never would have met this Sebastian guy, and she says she's never been happier."

"Oh." Sherlock stood from his chair and walked around the table to peer at the screen. He rested his chin on John's shoulder, and he could feel Sherlock's hair tickling his ear. John pointed to a sentence embedded in the body of Mary's email.

"That's a nice quote she's got there," he said." It says 'One day someone will come into your life, and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone before." He could feel Sherlock turn his head, and then the feeling of soft, full lips pressed against his cheek. His deep voice rumbled in John's chest, and his breath ghosted across his skin as he spoke.

"No truer words have ever been spoken."

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I just want to thank everyone who has read this, voted, and/or commented. You guys keep me motivated to keep writing, so thank you for that! I hope you enjoyed this. I re-wrote it twice trying to get it right, because you lovely people deserve nothing but the best. Hope you've liked my little story, and be sure to stick around for future projects! :)