"I didn't think it was possible, but, you look more nervous than me," Dad commented.

I was pacing back and forth, away from the wedding guests' eyes. I was nervous. Mega nervous. I knew nothing was going to go wrong. I was more worried about me flubbing my vows even though I'd practiced them for the last month or so. "The bride is supposed to be nervous. I'm getting married, Dad, not you."

"But I'm to get you down the aisle without us falling over each other." He offered me a nervous smile. "There's some pressure on me too."

"We'll take it one step at a time. We rehearsed it." I wrung my hands together.

"Rachel, the more anxious you get, the more anxious I'll get." He physically got in my way, stopping me. "Please. Stand still."

Through all the months after my rescue, and Moriarty's death, things had panned themselves out. Bayley and I pushed the wedding date back into November due to the circumstances. Dad and Sherlock took a bit longer to heal their friendship, and it was even longer for Bayley and Sherlock to be on friendly terms. The first confrontation the three had was a stepping stone in the path to healing.

This was it, the big day. Dad had his with Mary, and now I was prepared to have mine with Bayley. I was having the good ole wedding jitters, and they were the farthest thing from fun.

"Dad, this is going to be my only wedding," I told him firmly. "I want it to go right."

"It will, just...deep breath, Rachel. Do it with me."

"You're not my therapist."

"It'll ease us both. Please?"

I appeased my dad and did the exercise. Surprisingly, it did help me a bit. I straightened him out, his outfit was a bit crooked. I nitpicked at his hair, to which he swatted at my hand after a few good minutes, insisting that his hair looked fine.

When the music started playing, I realized this wasn't the traditional music. But I thought we agreed on traditional playing, not a...violin. I sighed and shook my head. It echoed beautifully, bouncing around in the church.

"Ready?" Dad asked me.

"Let's go." I threaded my arm through his.

We took our careful steps down the aisle. The pressure of eyes made my skin sweat. The dress began to feel uncomfortable, and my makeup felt as though it was beginning to run. I knew I should've been happy, but I wouldn't be until this was all said and done. Focus on your husband. Find him. Focus on him.

My heart ran into a sprint when my eyes found Bayley. He looked the most handsome I had ever seen him. It made me feel that much luckier to have him. Despite everything, we're here. We made it. No more running. No more cases. Just him and me. Next chapter...we'll see what the world brings us.

I saw Max, Bayley's best man, nudge him as Dad and I made our way towards him. Darien, my newly appointed maid of honor, had to dab her eyes so she wouldn't ruin her makeup. When we stopped just before Bayley, Dad looked at me fondly, kissing my cheek, before handing me off.

The wedding went without a hitch. Bayley and I choked up telling each other our vows, and when we were officially married, I practically took us to the floor when we kissed. The pictures took forever, and it took a while to get through some of the congratulations.

The reception didn't turn out like how Dad and Mary's did. It went smoothly, speeches were made (not one by Sherlock), and there was no case to solve.

Then came the crucial part of the evening: the first dance as husband and wife. I should've expected Sherlock to have written a piece for us. It was beautiful.

Then came the dances: my two with Dad and my adoptive father; and Bayley with Mary (she was the closest thing to a mother, and she had offered to do so months ago). Once those were out of the way, it became a night full of celebration and a bit of drinking.

"You look happy," noted Sherlock as he took me to the dance floor.

"Well, it is my wedding," I reminded him. "Thanks for not letting a case ruin this."

"It wasn't on purpose that John's wedding ended up with an arrest. Things just came together that way."

"Mm. Thank you, for those songs. They were wonderful."

"You should be thanking me for the dancing lessons, too. I can tell you've used them wisely."

Bayley hadn't been fond of me visiting Sherlock multiple times before the wedding, but I had insisted to him it was for a good reason. It was; to surprise my husband and not step on his feet as we danced together. "I had a good teacher."

"That's not what you called me the first time."

"It's because I wasn't quite used to your techniques."

"This is it for you, the London visits."

"Yes, it is. Once we leave for our honeymoon, I doubt we'll fly here. You should make a trip to America. Dad did, he made it through."

"I'd prefer to stay in my home country, thanks."

"Fine, suit yourself. Don't ever say that I never offered the invite."

"I won't." He smiled.

After long hours, Bayley and I snuck off early to make it for our flight. We were heading to France. From there, it'd be back home to America, as Mrs. Rachel Redding. We'd decided to not hyphenate my last name, it sounded too much like a mouthful.

"We'll keep in touch with them," Bayley told me as I looked out the window. "Who knows? Maybe they'll fly to come visit."

I chuckled. "Maybe." I looked at him, sighing.

"What?"

I scooted across the seat to snuggle into his side. "I'm just happy."

"I'm happy too."