The reception hall hummed with chatter, a sea of unfamiliar faces in suits and dresses. You stood by the window, nursing a glass of champagne, watching John and Mary twirl on the dance floor. A presence materialized beside you, the familiar scent of tobacco and wool.

"Tedious, isn't it?" Sherlock murmured, his gaze fixed on the newlyweds.

You glanced at him, surprised. "I thought you'd be off solving a murder by now."

He snorted softly. "John made me promise. No cases, no deductions. Just... mingling."

"How's that working out for you?"

"I've counted seventeen affairs, three gambling addictions, and one potential embezzlement scheme."