Who? John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Samir Marcus. Where? The pub. When? Sunday afternoon. What? Wedding service! Rating? Low Status? Placeholder.
Organising the wedding had been easier than expected. It had all come together so quickly, and the people of the island had been so eager and willing to help him with everything. It was heart-warming, in fact. He should have known, by now, that he had friends, he had people who liked them, and wanted to help them- but island life could feel isolating. It was good to be reminded that they really weren't alone.
Keeping it from Sherlock was more difficult. He'd started the morning with a huge grin on his face, one that was far too enthusiastic to just be about Sherlock's birthday. He'd kissed his partner, wished him a happy birthday, smiled at him over breakfast, and wondered how on earth he was meant to convince him to get all dressed up and go down to Mitchell's. He knew Sherlock wouldn't want a fuss made just over a birthday, but he also knew that Sherlock would most likely do anything for him, just to make him happy.
So, he'd managed to convince him, he'd managed to act like it was the closest thing to a date. That they were going to go out for a drink, and pretend it was normal. That he wanted them to dress smartly, and no, there was no real reason for it.
By the time they neared the pub, John could barely keep the grin from his face. His heart was racing with nerves- God, what if Sherlock hated it all? He kept glancing over at him, holding onto his hand and giving it a little squeeze now and then. He had to know that something was going on.