The case had indeed been interesting. A man, found dead in a house that he, seemingly, had no connection to at all. His wife had reported him missing and a dead body had been reported, found in a nearby town, both reports of which, coincidentally aligned . After the wife had given the positive ID, the challenge had been to discover why he had ended up in that particular house.
In fact, it turned out that several people had reported the same man missing. Three days later, they had established the man had, in fact, married himself off to four different people. Three now very unhappy women and, surprisingly, a man as well.
None of them were happy about this news but it surprised Sherlock to see how very unhappy it made John.
They were sitting in a spare conference room at the Yard, waiting for Lestrade to finish a phone call. Sherlock sat on the corner of the long conference table, his feet on a chair, and John was seated a little further up the table, playing with the evidence bag that contained the five golden rings - from the four widows and the victim.
“It makes me so angry… that someone would…” John stopped himself fidgeting and left the bag on the table, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.
Sherlock watched him in silence, giving his flatmate his full attention. Thankfully, for the sake of their friendship, Sherlock had been right. They had experienced two uncomfortable days and by the third day, John’s skin looked only a bit sallow. In the right light you could still see a tinge of green there but otherwise, he was all but back to normal.
“Why angry?” Sherlock prompted.
“Well firstly, because marriage should be sacred. If someone chooses to commit to it, it should be performed before God as a sacred commitment. How did he get away with four? And a man too?”
“I didn’t take you for a bigot John.” Sherlock raised his brow.
“No… not… Not like that… I just…” he sighed. “I have some ingrained personal issues to work on, clearly.”
“I had no idea you were so traditional, or religious. You never talk about that,” Sherlock said quietly.
John sat in silence, deep in thought. The weight of the world seemed to be on his shoulders.
“When we met, you said… That it was all fine. But it’s clearly not, is it?” Sherlock said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.
John frowned. “I don’t see what this has to do with that?”
Sherlock looked at him, trying to gauge where John’s head was at. He wasn’t connecting any dots at all. But to Sherlock, the connection was as clear as day. John wasn’t only defensive about his sexuality, he was seemingly struggling with seeing it in other people too. “Do you really have a problem with the fact that he married a man?”
“I have more of a problem that he… married four people, honestly. And they didn’t know… and he was…” John rubbed a hand over his face trying to wrestle with and communicate his thoughts in real time. “Medically speaking, he put them all at risk. They loved him in good faith, and now, all four spouses have to go through STI tests, HIV testing… He’s made a mess of their lives. Imagine finding out you just lost your spouse… but that he was also cheating, all at the same time. And so much of it!”
“And morally?” Sherlock prompted.
John shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I think, does it? He’s dead and he’s left a mess behind.”
Sherlock knew John had a complicated relationship with his family and the church and had always been cagey about his sexuality and placing both himself and Sherlock in certain boxes to reconcile with things inside his head. John’s ridiculous “not gay” rants whenever any innuendo was placed at their feet, and a series of other passing comments, had made it very clear to Sherlock, that John had a lot of issues to work through. He decided it was best to let the topic go for now at least.
“And second?” he asked instead.
“Second?” John looked confused.
“You were angry about the Ten Commandments apparently…”
John flashed him an irritated look. “That’s not—“
“… and secondly?” Sherlock prompted again.
John reached out and grabbed the bag off the table and held it up. “Somebody died, and all I can think about is that bloody irritating carol… Twelve Days of Christmas? Five gold rings? It’s looping in my head,” John said. He looked up at Sherlock with a comically pained expression all of a sudden.
Sherlock burst out laughing and John couldn’t help following along.
“I know, I know. Terribly inappropriate,” he choked out between giggles.
Lestrade chose this moment to find them. He frowned. “I see you two are giving this case your usual level of focus.”
Sherlock held up a hand in apology as they settled their giggling.
“It seems a neighbour had a security camera. We need to interview wife number two. Coming?” Lestrade asked. “If you can hold it together, that is.” He turned on his heel and left.
Sherlock gave a little jump from the table and straightened his coat while John stood, pushing in his chair and pocketing the five gold rings in their little bag. He headed for the door first and behind him he heard Sherlock hum the last line of the carol for his benefit. He couldn’t help snorting, and flashed Sherlock a look of warning as they went on their way.
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