Things got settled down after Major Sholto was tended to and patched up.

Before long, evening fell. The tables were cleared away so that the floor could be open for some dancing. I found my dad and Mary, but Sherlock seemed to be missing. I didn't know why I was searching for him; there wasn't reason to worry about him. Nobody was after him.

Ever since the incident, Bay kept me by his side for the majority of the night. Mary got to officially meet him; they hit it off pretty good. Bayley also got to meet my dad for the first time in person too.

"He's not as intimidating as I expected," he told me. "I think it's the height."

"Oh, you still don't want to mess with him. He's seen a lot of bad things and probably knows ways to injure or kill people. I wouldn't risk getting on his bad side." I couldn't keep my eyes from roaming.

"Are you looking for someone?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

Bay kept an arm around me. "Do you want to get your things after we leave or do you want to wait until tomorrow?"

"I think it'll depend. I'll let you know."

"But no matter what, you're coming back to the hotel room with me."

I pecked his cheek. "Oh, I know. That's not changing."

"Rachel, just tell me who you're looking for."

"Sherlock's still missing."

"I'm sure he hasn't run off anywhere."

"Still..."

Bay sighed. "I won't go anywhere."

I looked up at him. "Promise?"

"Promise." With a gentle shove, Bayley initiated my search for Sherlock.

Once I did a brief sweep of our room, I decided to investigate other areas. It hadn't taken me long before I found him. Surprise, surprise, Janine was with him. I'd just caught Sherlock in the tail end of a spin. I shook my head. Showoff. I bet Janine loved this. It was obvious she liked him.

"Showing off?" I teased as I butted in on their conversation. "Don't think I didn't see that."

"At least Janine thinks I'm a good teacher."

I rolled my eyes. "I still can't see you teaching other people."

"Well, glad to see you've pulled, Sherlock, what with the murderers running riot at my wedding." Dad was at Sherlock's side, clapping a hand on his back.

"One murder...one nearly murder. Loves to exaggerate. You should try living with him." Sherlock directed that to Janine.

An entrance door opened, and Greg came in. "Sherlock? Got him for you."

"Ah, the photographer. Excellent!" Sherlock put his hands together. "Thank you." He went to the photographer, pointing at his camera. "Er, may I have a look at your camera?"

The photographer looked hesitant, but gave in. He held it out for Sherlock. "What's this about? I was halfway home!"

Sherlock took the camera. "You should have driven faster." He was looking at the camera's screen on its back. "Ah, yes. Yes, very good. There, you see?" He smiled. "Perfect."

"What is?" I pressed. "Are you going to tell us?" I crossed my arms.

Sherlock passed the camera to Greg. "Try looking yourself." I went to hover over Greg.

"Um, look for what?" Dad asked, occupying Greg's other side. "Is the murderer in these photographs?"

"It's not what's in the photographs; it's what's not in them—not in any of them."

"Sherlock? The showing-off thing; we've discussed it before."

"There is always a man at a wedding who is not in any photograph but can go anywhere, and even carry an equipment bag around with him if he likes, and you never even see his face. You only ever see...the camera."

I blinked rapidly as Sherlock handcuffed the photographer to a luggage carrier in a fluid, quick movement.

"What are you doing?" the photographer exclaimed. "What is this?"

Sherlock held his phone screen up for us all to see. "Jonathan Small, today's substitute wedding photographer—known to us as the Mayfly Man. His brother was one of the raw recruits killed in that incursion. Jonny sought revenge on Sholto, worked his way through Sholto's staff, found what he needed...an invitation to a wedding—the one time Sholto would have to be out in public. So, he made a plan and rehearsed the murder, making sure of every last detail."

My eyes shifted to the photographer, our Mayfly Man.

"Brilliant, ruthless, almost certainly a monomaniac—though, in fairness, his photographs are actually quite good." Sherlock tossed the phone to Greg. "Everything you need is on that. You probably ought to...arrest him or something."

Mary came into the picture, no doubt looking for Dad. She trotted to him. "Come on, quick!" She grabbed Dad, ready to bolt with him, but Dad's eyes were focused on Jonathan Small.

"It's not me you should be arresting, Mr. Holmes," Small hissed.

"Oh, I don't do the arresting," Sherlock clarified. He gave a nod towards Greg. "I just farm that out."

"Sholto—he's the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker." A crazy smile flew onto his lips, but then faded. He shook his head. "I shouldn't have tried to be clever."

"You should have driven faster."

A spark of something set off in me as Sherlock held out a crooked arm for Janine to take. I picked up the rear as the two pairs exited the room, leaving Greg with Jonathan Small, our Mayfly Man.

* * *

I really had to give it to Sherlock on this one, the song he spent so much time composing was beautiful.

You could feel the emotion in it as Dad and Mary danced a slow waltz. Bayley held me with an arm around my waist. I laid my head on his shoulder, watching my father and stepmother dance. You could see how much they loved each other. Mary was the best thing that ever happened to my dad, aside from me of course.

Maybe I can convince Sherlock to write Bay and me a song for our wedding, whenever that happens. But I didn't remember Dad asking for a song, Sherlock had done it on his own account. Hmm, maybe I had to hope Sherlock would want to do that for me when I got married.

I giggled as Dad dipped Mary backwards. It caught her off guard. I whistled as Dad kissed her. Sherlock's song was ending around that time. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sherlock throw Janine a flower. I focused my gaze back on the happy newlyweds, who shared another kiss. Despite the somewhat disastrous speech by Sherlock, this wedding didn't turn out half bad. It was definitely much more interesting than Darien and Max's wedding.

Sherlock made his way to the microphone near him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "Just, er, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with. More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. I've never made a vow in my life, and after tonight I never will again. So, here in front of you all, my first and last vow. Mary and John: whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you. Er, I'm sorry, I mean—I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. I've just miscounted." He inhaled sharply. "Anyway, it's time for dancing."

"That was strange," Bay admitted once the DJ started the music again.

"Yeah, it was..." Disco lights began to flicker in the dim lighting of the reception venue.

"Why weren't you mentioned?"

"I-I don't know. Do you think that was the slipup, by accidentally throwing me in there?"

"Why else would he accidentally miscount? Come on." I yelped as Bayley got me moving. "Let's dance."

"I'm awful at it."

"I never said I was an expert."

We did small movements, with Bayley turning me. It was kind of hard to do anything extreme, considering the limited space we were given. Bay soon held me in his arms and we kept in a small, snail-like circular movement.

How come Sherlock hadn't put me in the speech? Was what he said, his vow, including me? It has to; I'm part of the family. I'm John Watson's daughter.

As the music kept going, I searched for the consulting detective. I knew I wasn't waiting until tomorrow for answers. I scanned through the dancing crowd until I saw him slinking away.

"I'm going to go talk to him," I whispered. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Bayley let me free. Politely, I squeezed and shoved my way through. I caught Sherlock just as he was about ready to leave. I grabbed his arm, he spun around instantly.

"I believe you owe me some explanations," I shouted.

"I knew I should have left sooner."

"Come on, we can dance and talk at the same time." I raised an eyebrow at him.

Sherlock wasn't hesitant to take me into the appropriate dancing stance. His hand placement on my back was right where it was supposed to be, his hand felt massive compared to mine.

"You know I want to know," I persisted.

"I didn't mean for that deduction to slip out."

"What deduction?" I tilted my head.

"That isn't what you're here for?"

"No, I wanted to know why I was kept out of the speech."

"I had a feeling you were offended."

"I wasn't—I'm not." I shook my head. "I just want to know why."

"Safety reasons. Didn't want someone finding out and leaking your name to the wrong hands. John made that quite clear early on."

I blinked, a bit surprised. "So it was for my...protection?"

"Of course. By the way, the vow I made pertains to you too."

I smiled. "Glad to know I'm not left out." It was a sweet gesture, to keep my name out for my own safety. "So, about this deduction..."

"I never said anything about one."

"Sherlock," I snapped. "What deduction?"

Sherlock spun me. "It looks like you'll have a half-sibling."

"W-what?"

"Mary's pregnant."

Despite my brain freezing up, my body didn't. "H-how?"

"Rachel, didn't you learn this years ago? It's what happens—"

"Ah, ah, I know how it happens. But..." I felt like my feet fell out from under me. "I don't believe it. There's..." I swallowed, feeling slightly dizzy all of a sudden.

Dad was having another child, with Mary, his wife. I was going to be a sister. The age gap would be ridiculous.

"It would have been better if they had told you instead of me," Sherlock said. He took advantage of my shock, he let me go. I stumbled backwards. I recovered, but by the time I wanted to pursue him, he'd disappeared. Sherlock had left the wedding without as much as a goodbye.

"Hey." I flinched when I felt Bay behind me. "What happened?"

"C-can we go?" I stammered.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm not feeling well."

"Okay. Okay, let's go, then. Let's say goodbye—"

"Can we not? I don't think I can do that right now."

"Oh." Bayley's voice held skepticism. "Alright, then. Let's go if you're feeling that bad. What's gotten to you? Are you going to vomit?"

"Maybe."

* * *

"Wow. So your dad still has it, huh?" Bay asked.

"Bay, please," I whimpered. "This is serious."

I'd come to the hotel with Bay, as I planned to. He gave me a t-shirt and cotton shorts to wear since I didn't want to go back to Baker Street and retrieve my stuff. I sat on the bed, with my knees curled to my chest. Bay was sprawled out beside me. The lights were off, but our eyes were well adjusted to the dark at this point.

"How are you taking it?"

"I don't know how to take it." I wrinkled my nose.

"Rach, this won't change anything with your dad and Mary."

"You don't know that." I looked down at him.

I shifted so I could lie on the bed. Bay nuzzled my neck, kissing it tenderly. I sighed through my nostrils. I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Rach," he mumbled into my neck. My breathing hitched as he slipped a hand under the shirt I was wearing. I turned into Bay, meeting my lips with his. An almost foreign feeling erupted low in my stomach.

I let the feeling take control. I got lost in Bay's affection very easily.

**If any of you are re-readers, this portion of the book, Rach's reaction to Mary's pregnancy, is going to be a little bit different. Hopefully a bit more realistic.**