Early in the morning, you're laying on top of Sherlock as he drags his fingers down the bare skin of your back.

"Back in university, I would always deduce my classmates and they would get so angry because I could tell who was sleeping with who. God, they hated me," Sherlock says with a sad undertone lacing his voice.

"It must have been hard trying to make friends with such... goldfish. They just don't understand," you reply with your cheek resting against his chest.

"I locked away all those emotions early in life since I never understood how to express them. It wasn't until I met John that I started to feel like I belonged. Then you came along and showed me that being a human with emotions isn't so bad."

"As long as you're happy, that's all that matters," you say.

"But it's not. Your happiness means a lot more," Sherlock insists.

"Let's just agree to be happy together."

"Deal."

♖♖♖

Later, Sherlock is back to his erratic speech preparation along with other plans he has for the wedding as he consulted with Mary about it earlier. You've just been watching him in amusement as he's looked things up on YouTube and searched through traditional wedding routines on Google.

"What are we going to do with him?" you ask Mary over the phone.

"I'm going to get John to convince him to go on a case, but I don't know if Sherlock will be convinced since he's so persistent about this," Mary replies.

"We could trick them into thinking they're helping the other by going on a case," you propose.

"I like it. We'll be over in an hour and put it into action."

"Got it." You hang up the phone and go back into the living room.
"Was that Mary?" Sherlock asks as he pins papers up on the wall.

"Yeah. She called to say she and John will be over soon," you explain, walking over and sitting in Sherlock's chair. "Don't you think you're going overboard?"

"Not at all. The quicker the planning is finished, the faster this is all over."

"You're that nervous about giving a speech that you're trying to speed things along?"

Sherlock nods. "Of course."

"You know you're very clever, Sherlock. I'm sure it will be the best speech ever given in the history of weddings," you say with a smile.

"You think this is funny, right?"

"Extremely."

A while later, Mary and John arrive carrying boxes that they place on the desk. While Mary and Sherlock begin searching through them, John takes a seat across from you, seemingly uninterested in any of the planning.

"You're not going to help them?" you question.

"Sherlock is doing most of the work, anyway," John replies. "Plus, I'm looking for a case."

"Oh, right. Mary and I thought it would be good for the two of you to go on one to show Sherlock nothing will change after the two of you get married," you say, lowering your voice.

"That's the plan," John sighs.

"Did you work on your half of the church, Mary? Looking a bit thin," Sherlock asks, standing on the couch.

"Oh, orphan's lot. Friends, that's all I have. Lots of friends," Mary replies.

"Really?" you say. "Me too, minus the lots part."

Something flashed through Mary's eyes, but is gone too soon to deduce.

"You should have the organ music to begin at precisely
11:48-"

Mary cuts him off. "But the rehearsal's not for another two weeks. Just calm down."

Sherlock turns around and jumps down from the couch. "Calm? I am calm. I'm extremely calm."

"Let's get back to the reception. Come on. John's cousin, top table?" Mary questions.

"Hmm. Hates you. Can't even bear to think about you," Sherlock states, standing next to the desk.

"Seriously?"

Sherlock picks up the card in front of Mary and sniffs it. "Second-class post. Cheap card. Bought at a petrol station, look at the stamp. Three attempts at licking. She's obviously unconsciously retaining saliva."

Mary looks sympathetic for about a second. "Aw, let's stick her by the bogs."

"Oh, yes." Sherlock sits across from Mary and looks through some papers.

"Who else hates me?" Mary asks after clearing her throat. Sherlock simply hands her a list. "Oh, great. Thanks."

You share a look with John before he speaks up. "Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting."

Sherlock and Mary ignore him and continue. "Table four?"

"Done."

"My husband is three people," John says.

"Table five?" Mary asks.

"Major James Sholto. Who's he?" Sherlock questions with confusion.

"Oh, John's old commanding officer. I don't think he's coming," Mary answers.

"He'll be there," John insists.

"Well, he needs to RSVP, then," Mary replies.

"He'll be there," John repeats, then looks back to his phone. "'My husband is three people.' It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin."

Sherlock abruptly stands from his chair and waltzes to the coffee table. "Identical triplets. One in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat." He bends down and brings out a tray with origami napkins. "Now, serviettes. Swan or Sydney Orpera House?"

You cover your mouth with your hand to suppress laughing. Sherlock sends you a glare before looking back to Mary.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she asks.

"Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation," Sherlock replies.

"Bullshit," you mutter, earning another glare.

"Fibbing, Sherlock."

"I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of-"

Mary cuts him off. "I'm not John. I can tell when you're fibbing."

"Okay, I learned it on YouTube."

"There it is," you chuckle. "It took him two hours to learn the swan."

"Opera House, please. Oh, hang on. I'm buzzing." Mary answers her phone and starts walking to the kitchen. "Hello? Oh, hi, Beth. Yeah, yeah, I don't see why not."

"Actually, if that's Beth, it's probably for me, too. Hang on," John says, getting up and following Mary to the kitchen.

You understand the code and get up to stand next to Sherlock who is now sitting cross-legged on the floor and making more serviettes, or napkin art, as you call it.

"Don't you think you're going overboard?" you ask, lifting your hand to gently run through the curls atop his head.

"Not at all," Sherlock replies.

"What about taking John on a case? He looks exhausted from doing all this wedding planning. It's the least you could do," you persuade.

"Maybe," he replies. "I don't know how I'll get him to go."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to convince him."

You smile as Sherlock gets to his feet and Mary and John walk back into the room.

"That just sort of happened," Sherlock explains, referring to the mess of serviettes.

You lock eyes with Mary and the two of make your way back to the kitchen as the plan goes into action with you listening intently.

"Sherlock, um... mate. I've... I've smelled eighteen different perfumes. I've sampled nine different slices of cake, which all tasted identical, I like the bridesmaids in purple-"

"Lilac," Sherlock corrects and you almost bang your head off the wall from holding in your laugh.

"Lilac," John says.

"This is brilliant. We just tricked them into thinking they're helping each other," Mary whispers.

"I know. This is great," you whisper back. "Let's go."

You and Mary casually walk back into the room and the two men approach both of you.

"Uh, we're just going to... I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some..." John fumbles.

"Tie."

"Socks."

You bite your lip and look at Sherlock as Mary speaks. "Why don't we go with socks?"

"Yeah," John says.

"I mean, you've got to get the right ones," you say.

"Exactly. To go with my..." John trails.

"Tie."

"Outfit."

"It'll taken a while, right?" Mary asks.

"My coat in there?" John asks, already walking to the kitchen and you move to grab Sherlock's from the armrest on the couch.

"Yes," Mary answers.

You hold Sherlock's coat as he slips it on and you stand in front of him again with Mary.

"Just going to take him out for a bit. Run him."

"I know. You said you would find him a case," you reply, fixing the collar of his coat and giving his a quick kiss.

"Coming, Sherlock?" John calls from the hall.

"Coming," Sherlock replies.

You and Mary send each of them a thumbs up until they disappear down the stairs, then share a fist-bump for a brilliant plan following through.