DDavid
Yeah, we’ve, um...we’ve met.
[Flashback to Sherlock’s living room, where he is apparently interviewing David]
DDavid
So, what exactly are my duties as an usher?
Let’s talk about Mary first.
Oh, I think you know what. You went out with her for two years.
DDavid
Er...ages ago, we’re just good friends now.
Is that a fact? Whenever she tweets, you respond within five minutes regardless of time or current location, suggesting you have her on text alert. In all your Facebook photos of the happy couple, Mary takes centre frame whereas John is always partly or entirely excluded.
DDavid
[Laughing nervously] You can’t assume from that that I’ve still got...some kind of interest in Mary...
You volunteered to be a shoulder to cry on on no less than three separate occasions. Do you have anything to say in your defence? [David looks stunned] I think from now on we’ll downgrade you to ‘casual acquaintance with no more than three planned social encounters a year, and always in John’s presence’. I have your contact details. I will be monitoring.
DDavid
...They’re right about you. You’re a bloody psychopath.
High-functioning sociopath. With your number. [He grins evilly]
[Greeting the guests, a small boy runs up to Sherlock and gives him a big hug around the waist]
Erm...yes, well done in the service, Archie.
AMArchie’s Mum
He’s really come out of his shell. I don’t know how you did it.
[Sherlock looks away. Flashback to Sherlock’s living room, where he is trying to persuade Archie to be a pageboy]
Basically, it’s cute smile to the bride’s side, cute smile to the groom’s side, and then the rings.
And you have to wear the outfit.
You really do have to wear the outfit.
Grownups like that sort of thing.
[Exasperated] I don’t know, I’ll ask one.
AArchie
[Questioningly] You’re a detective?
AArchie
Have you solved any murders?
[They look through pictures on Sherlock’s laptop]
AArchie
What’s all the stuff in his eye?
[Sherlock raises an eyebrow at this. Back to the wedding]
AMArchie’s Mum
He said you had some pictures for him? As a treat.
Er...yes...if he’s...good...
[Quickly] Lovely little village...
AMArchie’s Mum
Hm? What did you say?
[Sherlock is recounting the events preceding John's stag night]
Murder scenes? Locations of... murders?
Yeah, but why can't you just do underground stations?
Lacks the personal touch. We're going to go for a drink in every...
...street where you've found a corpse. Delightful! Where do I come in?
Don't want to get ill. That would ruin it, spoil the mood.
But you're a graduate chemist, can't you just work it out?
I lack the practical experience.
Meaning that you think I like a drink?
No, no...[awkward pause] You look... well.
How's... [struggling to remember the name] Tom?
And we're having quite a lot of sex.
Okaaay. I want you to calculate John's ideal intake, and mine, to remain in the sweet spot for the whole evening. Light-headedness, good.
Urinating in wardrobes, bad.
[The boys have been out on John’s stag night, and are now lying at the bottom of the stairs to 221B Baker Street, very drunk]
[Slurring] I have an international reputation. Do you have an international reputation?
No, I... don’t have an international reputation.
No. And I can’t even remember what for. ‘S... crime. Something like that.
Oh! What are you doing back? I thought you were going out late?
Ah, Hudders. What time is it?
You've only been out two hours.
[Playing a drunk game of Yes or No; John is ‘Madonna’, while Sherlock’s nametag reads ‘Sherlock Holmes’]
Am I... pretty? This? [Pointing to his nametag]
Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences and role models.
Yeah, but am I a pretty lady?
[The boys wake up in a prison cell]
[Dazed] Oh, my God. Greg? Is that Greg?
Get up. I’m going to put you two in a taxi. I’ve managed to square things with the desk sergeant. [Laughs] What a couple of lightweights! You couldn’t even make it to closing time!
[Shouting] NOT REALLY! [Sherlock wakes with a start] Come on!
[He turns and leaves. After staggering about, Sherlock manages to follow]
[Interrogating victims of the Mayfly Man in his imaginary courtroom]
[to the nurse] What did you say? You said John Hamish Watson. You said that. You said Hamish. How did you know? How did you know his middle name? He never tells anyone, he hates it.
[Flash to Baker Street. Sherlock is trying to guess John’s middle name]
[Over breakfast]
[Reading]
[Through the bathroom door, while John is in the shower]
[Back to the courtroom]
It took him years to confide in me...
[John comes in to find Sherlock reading something]
...That’s my birth certificate.
[Back to the courtroom]
[There is a momentary flashback to A Scandal In Belgravia]
[Suddenly, Irene Adler is stood before Sherlock, naked. She traces a fingernail down his jawline]
[Exasperated] Out of my head. I’m busy!
Ladies and gentlemen. One last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier; 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.
(panting with rage against Mary) I've got a better question: is everyone I've ever met a psychopath?
(short pause) Yes. Good that we've settled that. Now--
SHUT UP!! And stay shut up, because this is not funny. Not this time.
I didn't say it was funny.
(turns to Mary) You. What have I ever done? Hmm? My whole life, to deserve you?
(steps towards Sherlock threateningly) Sherlock, I told you. Shut up.
No, I mean it. Seriously. Everything, everything you've ever done is what you did.
Sherlock, one more word and you will not need morphine.
You were a doctor who went to war. You're a man who couldn't stay in the suburbs for more than a month without storming a crack den, beating up a junkie. Your best friend is a sociopath who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high. That's me, by the way. (waves hand) Hello. Even the landlady used to run a drug cartel.
(surprised) It was my husband's cartel. I was just typing!
(offhandedly) And exotic dancing.
(insulted) Sherlock Holmes, if you've been YouTubing--
(losing patience) John, you're addicted to a certain lifestyle! You're abnormally attracted...to dangerous situations and people, so is it truly such a surprise that the woman you've fallen in love with conforms to that pattern?
(voice breaking) But she wasn't supposed to be like that. Why is she like that?
Why is everything...always...MY FAULT?!? (kicks a chair aside ferociously)
(flees into the kitchen, horrified) Oh, the neighbours.
John, listen. Be calm and answer me. What is she?
The woman who is carrying my child who has lied to me since the day I met her.
No. Not in this flat. Not in this room. Right here, right now, what...is...she?
Okay. Your way. (resentful) Always your way. (places a chair in front of Mary) Sit.
Because that's where they sit! The people who come in here with their stories. The clients. That's what you are now, Mary. You're a client. This is where you sit and talk and this is where we sit and listen and we decide if we want you or not!
I've thought long and hard about what I want to say to you. These are prepared words, Mary. I've chosen these words with care.
The problems of your past are your business. The problems of your future...are my privilege. That's all I have to say; that's all I need to know [He throws her USB stick in the fire] No, I didn't read it.
[crying] You don't even know my name.
Is "Mary Watson" good enough for you?
Then it's good enough for me, too.
[they embrace]
All this does not mean that I'm not still basically pissed off with you.
I am very pissed off, and it will come out now and then.
You can mow the sodding lawn from now on.
I choose the baby's name.
