A Scandal in Belgravia: Part One
Don't let me go with him!
You're not going anywhere.
"You can't be allowed to continue, boys." Moriarty continued, "You just can't. I would try to convince you but..." He laughed and his voice became sing-song once again. "...everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"
Sherlock looked down at her and John again for another second; seriously thinking about what he was about to do before he turned to face Moriarty, "Probably my answer has crossed yours."
He raised the pistol and aims it at him. Moriarty smiled confidently, no fear in his expression. Slowly Sherlock lowered the pistol downwards until it was pointing directly at the bomb jacket. All their eyes lock onto the jacket, John breathing heavily, Scarlett smiling ready for anything that wasn't going with Moriarty, Sherlock calm. Moriarty tilted his head, looking a little anxious for the first time.
Sherlock held his hand steady, continuing to aim towards the jacket. Moriarty lifted his head and locks eyes with his Sherlock. She was sure he saw her uncle as his nemesis. Sherlock gazed back at him and causing Moriarty to smile and for Sherlock to narrow his eyes. Scarlett closed hers.
There was nothing except the sound of the moving water in the pool and everybody's breathing as they waited for the next move to be made, Scarlett refused to open her eyes. Then out of nowhere The Bee Gees' song 'Stayin' Alive' began to tinnily play.
Her eyes shot open and she looked at Sherlock and John in confusion before her eyes rested distastefully on Moriarty who briefly closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation.
"D'you mind if I get that?" His smooth Irish accent called out to the three of them.
Scarlett watched Sherlock as he pulled a face and shrugged his shoulder before saying nonchalantly, "No, no, please. You've got the rest of your life."
He took the phone from his pocket and she finally found the strength to stand, "Hello...? Yes, of course it is. What do you want?" Moriarty asked irritably down into the phone.
He looked at them mouthing 'Sorry' across at Sherlock, who sarcastically mouthed 'Oh, it's fine' back at him. Moriarty rolled his eyes as he listened to the phone, turning away from them for a moment, then he spun back around, his face full of fury.
"SAY THAT AGAIN!" He yelled angrily into the phone.
Scarlett frowned and looked around before Moriarty continued with venom in his voice, "Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you… and I will skin you."
Scarlett, Sherlock and John all just looked at each other bewildered, "Wait." Moriarty told the other person on the end of the phone.
He lowered it and made his way back over to them, Sherlock keeping the pistol trained on the bomb jacket.
Moriarty stopped right in front of the jacket gazing down at the ground thoughtfully before lifting his eyes to Sherlock. "Sorry." He said somewhat distractedly, "Wrong day to die."
"Oh." Scarlett made herself sound causal, "Did you get a better offer?"
Moriarty looked down at the phone before he turned and slowly began to walk away, "You'll be hearing from me Sherlock et al."
He strolled back around the pool towards the door through which he originally came, lifting the phone to his ear again. "So," he said into the phone, "if you have what you say you have, I'll make you rich. If you don't," He paused, "I'll make you into shoes." He clicked his fingers the once and the red sniper dots on them all instantly retracted.
They all let out relived sighs, "What happened there?" John asked of no one in particular.
"Someone changed his mind." Sherlock said.
"The question is: who?" Scarlett asked looking at Sherlock.
-Break Line- Break Line- Break Line-
Scarlett Holmes was now officially eighteen and the only thing that had changed was that she could go out drinking legally, not that she wanted to. The birthday was marked by indifference until later in the evening, there was a knock at the door and it turned out that John had invited everyone around to celebrate.
She shook her head as they all swapped stories about her; Sherlock was being unusually human about it all and playing along. She cringed at some of them, like when Lestrade told them all about when they had first met and how awkward the fourteen-year-old version of herself was. The rest of the night was a pleasant one that she enjoyed immensely.
Late April rolled into late May and on this particular day John was in the living room updating his ever increasing blog. Scarlett had her violin out and was attempting to write down whatever she played, whilst Sherlock was sat at the opposite end of the living room table drinking coffee and leafing through the newspaper.
"What are you typing?" He asked in way of conversation.
"Blog." John replied focusing on the screen.
"About?"
"Us." Scarlett summarized looking over John's shoulder to read a few lines. "Well, you're typing a lot."
"There's a lot to say about you two." He said smiling, looking over his shoulder at her. The doorbell rang.
"Oh good. I was getting bored." Scarlett grinned leaping over the settee to greet the client.
-Flash Forward-
Over the weeks preceding they had what see liked to call a montage of clients. Most of them domestic and not warranting their attention although every now and again there was the odd golden case she adored.
They had dealt with a man whose wife was having an affair, the day before a wife who was being cheated on. Scarlett briefly thought about calling them both to get the two to meet up.
-Flash Forward-
Then there was the man that came to the flat carrying an urn of all things. He sat on the clients chair and stroked the jar lovingly; she shot John a look of disquiet which he returned with wide eyes.
"She's not my real aunt. She's been replaced – I know she has. I know human ash." The client told them with a knowing gaze.
Scarlett did a double take: How in the hell?!
Sherlock seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he pointed to the door abruptly, "Leave."
-Flash Forward-
They had a business man and his body guards come in and asked them if they would recover a load of important files that had been taken, with the price tag being at Sherlock's discretion. Although he had declared the case as boring to the horror of the business man and kicked him out soon after.
-Flash Forward-
Then came one of the rare golden cases which she was intrigued by, when the group of geeky teenage boys came in she instantly grinned and sat forward in her seat, sensing a real belter. With one look at her Sherlock got up and offered her his chair, she smiled knowing that he was giving her the case.
John started to type up the change of events as she asked the guy in the middle of the three, "What can I do for you boys today?"
After a stunned pause due to the fact that they were in fact being talked to by a girl, the one in the middle got the courage to speak,
"We have this website. It explains the true meaning of comic books, 'cause people miss a lot of the themes."
"Right?" She said tilting her head and squinting slightly.
"But then the thing is everything in them started coming true!" He rushed on and she grinned, leaning back in her chair.
"Oh," She mused, "Interesting…"
About a week later Scarlett walked into the living room to find John typing. She glanced over his shoulder and saw the title of the blog entry, "'The Geek Interpreter'?" She asked.
"Yeah," John said looking over his shoulder at her, "It's the title."
"You're the blogger, I'll leave the dramatization to you I guess."
They smiled at each other and she made her way back into the kitchen to her latest experiment.
-Flash Forward-
Scarlett found the John was blogging about their cases more and more. She loved the fact that when she visited the website that she had her own section for her cases independent of Sherlock.
Not long after she'd solved 'The Geek Interpreter' she found herself at Bart's morgue with her fellow Baker Street residents looking at a blonde woman on a slab covered in speckled blotches.
She vaguely registered Lestrade stood in the background waiting for anything they could give him, "Do people actually read your blog?" She looked at Sherlock as he addressed John as he still examined the body.
"Where d'you think our clients come from?" John retorted in question.
"We have a website." Sherlock defended.
"In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody's reading your website." John summarised and Scarlett found herself smirking at the adorable pout Sherlock was giving them.
"Right then." She said after a second drawing their attention back to the matter at hand. "Dyed blonde hair; no obvious cause of death except for these speckles, whatever they… Sherlock…!"
She called to her uncle as he turned and then began to exit then room, "Come back here!" She called after him.
As the doors to the morgue swung on their hinges she heard him reply in childish defiance, "NO!"
When she got back to the flat she found Sherlock walking around eating a piece of toast. John went straight over to his computer and started to type. She was in the process of removing her jacket when she heard Sherlock say – with his mouth full – "Oh, for God's sakes!"
"What?" She and John both asked.
He shot her an exasperated look before reading off of John's screen, "'The Speckled Blonde'?!"
-Flash Forward-
Then there was the time not long after that where two little girls had arrived, unaccompanied, to Baker Street. She was rather grateful that she had been the one to greet them at the door and not Sherlock.
She had invited then in, she took a couple of dining room chairs and placed them next to each other so the girls could sit side-by-side. It was at this point that the boys entered the living room to greet the new client's.
After about fifteen minutes – during which the girls had expressed their journey to the flat – they finally got down to the reason for their visit.
"They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead. Is that 'cause he'd gone to heaven?" The younger of the two girls asked.
Scarlett looked at John wide-eyed, worried that Sherlock wouldn't think about who he was talking to before he answered the question. "People don't really go to heaven when they die. They're taken to a special room and burned."
Scarlett looked at him with an open mouth, completely horrified, "Sherlock!" When she looked back the two girl's looked like they were about to cry.
-Flash Forward-
They walked across the open gravely expanse following Lestrade towards a silver car, "There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday." He said, "Everyone dead."
"Yes, we know." Sherlock said, "Suspected terrorist bomb. We do watch the news."
Scarlett shook her head in amusement as John countered, "You said, "Boring," and turned over."
She could see that the boot of the car they were heading to was open, they looked around as Lestrade kept talking.
"Well, according to the flight details, this man was checked in on board." She looked over his shoulder to see that he was checking the man's ticket details, contained in an evidence bag. "Inside his coat he's got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of those special biscuits. Here's his passport stamped in Berlin Airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday but instead he's in a car boot in Southwark."
She and John stood back allowing Sherlock to look at the body. He got out his magnifier and focused in on the dead man's hands.
"Any ideas?" John asked.
"Eight, so far." Sherlock muttered.
She nodded, knowing eight ideas would significantly decrease any moment. Sure enough he stood up straight, looking at the body again to verify before saying, "Okay, four idea's."
He looked over to the man's passport that Lestrade was holding in an evidence bag. He then paused and looked up at the sky. "Maybe two ideas." He concluded as a passenger jet flew overhead.
-Flash Forward-
Back at the flat, Sherlock – wearing heavy protective gloves and safety glasses, carrying a blowtorch in one hand and a glass container of green liquid in the other – had come over to the living room table to look at John's latest blog entry which was entitled: "Sherlock Holmes Baffled".
"No, no, no, don't mention the unsolved ones." She heard Sherlock protest indignantly.
Scarlett tried to calm him down, "People want to know you're human."
He looked over to her as she held one of his case files, "Why?"
"'Cause they're interested." John replied.
"No they're not." Sherlock denied. "Why are they?" He asked after a second.
Scarlett just shrugged as John smiled at his laptop. "Look at that." He said to them and she walked over as he pointed to his laptop screen. "One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five." He said proudly.
"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked as she spotted what John meant - his blog counter.
"I re-set that counter last night." John told them, "This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash."
"Two hundred and forty-three." Scarlett corrected him quietly as Sherlock went sulking back into the kitchen.
"Do you want a hand?" Scarlett offered to him and Sherlock nodded silently before firing up his blowtorch once more. He made sure to pull his safety glasses back on over his eyes dramatically as she joined him.
-Flash Forward-
The three of them walked across the theatre floor quickly towards one of the exits. Police continued to work around them somewhat expertly.
"So, what's this one? 'Belly Button Murders'?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.
"'The Navel Treatment'?" John offered.
She laughed, "Oh, John. You're so punny!"
"Eurgh!" Sherlock exclaimed audibly as she and John giggled.
Lestrade joined them as they neared the exit. "There's a lot of press outside, guys." The D.I. warned.
"Well, they won't be interested in us." Sherlock assured.
"Yeah," Lestrade said, "that was before you were an internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you two." He pointed between her and Sherlock.
Her eyes widened: She did NOT want her picture taken.
"For God's sake!" Sherlock cried looking over her head to John. They walked passed an open door, in the room was a costume rack. Sherlock rushed in, picked some items from the rack and said, "Here, put these on the both of you."
He tossed John a cap and her a berett. She put it on hastily and pulled it right over so it covered a good majority of her face.
"Walk fast, the both of you." Sherlock told them.
"Still," said Lestrade, "it's good for the public image, a big case like this."
"I'm a private detective." Sherlock retorted. "The last thing I need is a public image."
He put on the other hat that he had picked up – a deerstalker – and headed out the exit door pulling the hat as low as possible over his eyes and tugging the collar of his coat up. Outside, photographers start taking pictures of the three of them, calling their names frantically.
-Flash Forward-
The next day Scarlett ran home to the apartment, plastic bag in one hand and several papers in the other.
She dashed up the stairs and through the open apartment door, barley missing Miles who was trudging along the flat's floor.
"Sherlock, John!" She exclaimed as she tossed the shopping to one side.
They looked at her in surprise, Sherlock draped in a bed sheet, "What's wrong?" John asked her.
"Have you seen these?!" She cried brandishing the papers she had picked up. "We're on the front pages!"
She tossed one each to them, the one Sherlock held read: 'The New Hat-family: Web Detectives.' Whilst John's read: 'The Holmes' Duo: Internet Sensation!'
"We're EVERYWHERE!" She cried. "I don't like this. We're meant to be PRIVATE -"
"-Consulting..." Sherlock corrected readjusting his sheet.
"Oh, whatever!" She snapped. "My point is: you aren't private anymore." She said, calming down.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "What's the matter?" He asked.
"What's the matter?" She sighed through her nose. "This is 'what's the matter.'" She waved a hand towards the papers. "Sherlock, it's only going to get worse. They'll turn on you. That's the way it always happens."
"What are you doing?" John asked her as she got her phone out.
"Thinking about attempting damage control." She replied shortly as she went to hit speed dial before picking up one of the papers and throwing it out of the open window in annoyance.
She caught Sherlock and John stare at each other and then back at her. Sherlock stood and gestured for the phone, she shook her head. Sherlock advanced, determined in his goal.
"No, Sherlock, get off me!" She cried, for Sherlock was attempting to remove her phone from her hand.
"We don't need him." Her younger uncle insisted as her thumb hovered over the button she had assigned to Mycroft's number.
When she still didn't hand over the phone Sherlock said:
"Give it to me or the tortoise gets it."
"Are you blackmailing Miles?" She asked in a surprised tone.
Sherlock was keeping a keen eye on her as the phone remained in her hand, "Basically."
She looked over at John who had been following their conversation with an amused look on his face.
"You can't do that, Sherlock. Miles is an innocent victim of your and Mycroft's politics."
"Yes, and you clearly picked my side of the debate a long time ago." Sherlock retorted. "Give. Me. The. Phone."
"Sherlock, I seriously think that's deemed as possessive behaviour." John said to him.
"I don't care, it's true. She's mine." Sherlock said matter-of-factly.
They were interrupted by Mrs Hudson knocking on the flats door. Scarlett thought she looked rather stressed.
"Oh good, you're in. You've got another one." The landlady stepped aside to reveal a big man who was panting heavily in the doorway before he promptly collapsed over the thresh hold.
"Well... I wasn't expecting that." John exclaimed.
-Break Line- Break Line -Break Line-
About three hours later Scarlett found herself in Lestrade's office giving him back a cold case she'd been looking into. She'd given him three new leads although she had made it clear that she was positive that the sister had murdered her twin for the money.
"Here you go." Lestrade said coming back into his office and placing a coffee cup on the mini desk she was using.
"Mmm... Thanks, Greg."
"You're welcome." The D.I walked around to the right side of his desk and sat down. "Sherlock should be there by now, I'll give Carter a bell."
"Sherlock didn't go, he made John go instead. It was less than a seven apparently." She finished, looked at Lestrade's confused face and added, "Don't ask."
The detective lent back in his seat and said, "Alright, I won't."
There was a pause in which they heard the phones going off on the floor outside.
"What is it?" She said looking at the man opposite her.
"I didn't say anything." The man chuckled.
"No, but you were thinking. What is it?" She asked again.
"I was just trying to imagine you -"
"No need to imagine, I'm here, Greg."
He tutted, "Let me finish. I was just trying to imagine you working out there." He made a gesture to the floor outside.
"If you'd like me to move that's not a problem I'll just..."
"You don't make things half difficult." He sighed, "I meant, work on the floor because you might consider...working for me."
"Work for you...?" She repeated slowly.
"Yes..." He confirmed, his face screwed up as though he was about ready to be hit. "Just something to think about, now you're eighteen. And who knows, maybe in a few years you could become a-"
"-Detective Inspector." She finished with a triumphant smirk.
Lestrade sat up a little straighter with a smile on his face, as she herself grinned. She envisioned herself giving orders to Donovan, Anderson and other annoying co-workers.
Then she gasped and with a little shake, came back to reality. "I appreciate the offer Lestrade just let me-" Scarlett was about to say 'Think about it' when an abrupt knock sounded on the office door.
Donovan entered holding a phone, "It's for you, mini fr-" Scarlett was surprised to hear Donovan stop herself, "It's for you." She said again, holding the phone out for Scarlett to grab.
She nodded her thanks and took the phone, "Hello?" She asked into the receiver.
"There's a man in a black suit waiting outside Scotland Yard for you. Don't ask questions, just do as you're told."
She sighed at Mycroft's cryptic message and hung up the phone, "I have to go, thanks for the coffee." She said to Lestrade as she picked up the takeaway cup and walked passed Donovan to get out of the office, leaving the phone on Lestrade's desk.
"Think about my offer?" Lestrade called after her.
She turned back, "I might!"
She had no idea what she'd do in this type of job. Much of the same stuff that she already did at a crime scene probably. Just with more paper work. And legal restrictions.
Eww.
She'd have to do as the 'law' told her! Yet, there was something about the idea of becoming a DI that appealed to her. Greatly.
When she finally made it outside she was greeted with a, "Miss Holmes..."
She looked in the direction of the voice and beheld a young man, not much older than herself. On observing him she found that he was unarmed. His suit cost about six-hundred pounds. That he was left handed judging by the way his hands were folded in front of him. He was an indoor office worker judging by the state of his shoes and the creases in his forehead. The most prominent features were the tiny, wiry hairs that lined his lower legs.
"...If you'd care to get in the car."
She sighed noncommittally, "I guess I don't have anything better to do."
He nodded and led her to the car. The drive was a quiet one and pretty soon she was being led through the corridors of Buckingham Palace. "Through there, Miss." The young worker told her, gesturing into an office.
She walked inside and was faced with Mycroft.
"Morning." They said to each other in unison.
"What's up?" She asked him.
He didn't answer her question he just said, "Follow me."
She sighed but did as she was told and followed him out of the room quickly as they walked down a heavily carpeted corridor.
He lead her into a side room through a door only to find said too conjoined directly with another - bigger - room.
From this room she could hear voices, distinctly Sherlock and John's.
"Here to see the Queen?" She heard John ask as she walked into the room at that moment.
"Close enough." She replied as she saw the boy's sat on an expensive looking couch.
She did a slight double take as she registered that Sherlock was still in his sheet. "You're not wearing pants are you?" She asked.
"No." Sherlock replied simply.
She sighed, "Of course..."
"Where did you go this morning?" Sherlock asked.
Scarlett sighed, "I was with Lestrade if you must know."
"And he offered her a job." Mycroft spoke as he entered the room.
She let out an exasperated noise as she rubbed her eyes, head tilted to the ceiling.
"Can I please do something without one of you finding out for once...?"
"That is highly unlikely, my dear." Mycroft said wearing a smug smile before he took one look at Sherlock in his sheet and too sighed, "Just once, can you all behave like grown-ups?"
Scarlett walked over to the sofa that her boys occupied and perched on the arm of the seat, next to John.
The doctor chuckled slightly before saying, "We solve crimes, I blog about it, he forgets his pants and she enjoys it immensely, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope."
Sherlock looked up at his brother as he walked further into the room, all humour gone from his face.
"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft." Sherlock protested.
"What, the hiker and the backfire?" Mycroft asked, "I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?"
"Transparent." Sherlock relented.
"Was it?" Scarlett asked. She had left them to deal with the case, feeling her time was better spent dealing with cases from Lestrade.
"Apparently, yeah." John said, clearly in startled disagreement.
"Time to move on, then." Mycroft said, clearing his throat.
Mycroft made a show of bending down, picking up the clothes and shoes from the table before offering them to Sherlock. Sherlock for his part looked thoroughly uninterested making Mycroft sigh again.
"We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation." Mycroft's voice then became stern when Sherlock failed to respond. "Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on."
She had to stifle a laugh as Sherlock shrugged and said, "What for?"
"Your client." The elder brother replied simply.
"And my client is?" Sherlock asked, standing up.
"Illustrious..." They all turned to see an equerry walk into the open room, "...in the extreme."
Almost instantly John and she stood up out of respect as the man came closer, "And remaining – I have to inform you – entirely anonymous."
It was at this point the new man turned and addressed Mycroft happily, "Mycroft!"
"Harry." Mycroft replied in equal politeness, if with less vigour as he shook hands with his colleague.
"May I just apologise for the state of my little brother?" Mycroft asked in a way of pardon.
Harry the Equerry brushed it off, "Full-time occupation, I imagine."
Sherlock scowled and Scarlett coughed slightly to stifle a small laugh that had escaped her due to Sherlock's expression.
Harry must have caught it however because he looked right at her and said, "Ah, finally, Miss Holmes. Mycroft's told me all about you!"
They shook hands and she laughed politely, "Please, don't believe a word he says."
He smiled good naturally, "Quite." He then turned to address John.
"And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."
"Hello, yes." John replied and they too shook hands.
"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog." Harry revealed to the doctor and John looked startled.
"Your employer?"
The other man nodded, "They particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch."
"Thank you!" The doctor exclaim and Scarlett caught him turning to Sherlock to pointedly clear his throat with an air of smugness.
Finally the equerry walked closer to Sherlock before saying, "And Mr. Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs."
"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend." Sherlock replied with disinterest.
"Mycroft," Sherlock began to say as he forced himself between John and herself to gain better access to his older brother. "I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases. Both ends is too much work." He looked back around to the equerry, "Good morning."
With that he started to walk out of the room. Mycroft prevented him from getting to far however by steeping on his sheet. Sherlock in his impetus - and to her horror - continued on forward so the sheet was practically pulled from him, only now covering bellow his waist. He attempted to pull it back up his body to no avail and also to his clear frustration.
"This is a matter of national importance." Mycroft hissed dangerously whilst Scarlett herself part way covered her eyes slightly. "Grow up." The elder brother demanded.
With his back still turned to them all Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth. "Get off my sheet!"
"Or what?" Mycroft mocked.
"Or I'll just walk away." Sherlock said simply.
Oh, no... Don't you DARE!
Scarlett deliberately turned her back on the scene whilst she heard Mycroft say, "I'll let you."
John jumped in the "Boys, please. Not here."
Sherlock was almost incandescent with rage as be gritted out, "Who. Is. My. Client?"
"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction." Mycroft said calmly, "You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake..." He paused and Scarlett braved a look, noticing he was attempting to get his anger under control.
Mycroft breathed through his nose heavily before he continued in an exasperated tone, yet harsh tone. "...put your clothes on!"
Sometime later, Sherlock - thankfully - has finally dressed and is sitting on the sofa again beside John. Mycroft and the equerry sit on the opposite sofa, whilst she herself sat back on the arm of the sofa next to John.
Mycroft started pouring tea from a teapot. Following the old-fashioned superstition, he looked at the equerry and smiled, "I'll be mother."
Sherlock took the opportunity to declare, "And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell." Scarlett found herself biting her cheeks in an attempt not to laugh. Mycroft glared at the both of them before placing the teapot down.
The equerry looked at Sherlock then, keen to move on. "My employer has a problem."
"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen." Mycroft said.
"Why?" Sherlock demanded, "You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?"
"People do come to you for help, don't they, Mr. Holmes?" The equerry asked.
"Not, to date, anyone with a Navy." Sherlock replied and Scarlett shared a smirk with John.
"This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust." Mycroft said, ignoring the previous comment.
"You don't trust your own Secret Service?" John asked.
"Why would they?" Scarlett said before anyone else could reply, "They all spy on people for money."
The men all looked at her and she shrugged, "Stop me when I tell a lie."
"No," The Equerry replied, "No, you're quite right, Miss Holmes."
It was then Mycroft opened his briefcase resting on the table between them all. He took out a glossy photograph and handed it to Sherlock who looked at the photo. She saw the woman being depicted and got up to stand by the opposite arm of the sofa next to Sherlock.
"What do you know about this woman?" Mycroft asked.
"Nothing whatsoever." Sherlock replied.
"Then you should be paying more attention. She's-"
"That's Irene Adler." Scarlett said without thinking. She looked up at Mycroft, away from the image, "What's she done now?"
"I'm more interested in how you know who she is." Mycroft asked her, confused.
"A strong female individual causing chaos and unrest for the Government? Of course I'm paying attention Mycroft. It's entertaining."
Mycroft sighed, "Of course..."
Scarlett looked at Sherlock and John, "As far as I know Irene's been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year. Not to mention she recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both the husband and wife...separately."
"You know I don't concern myself with trivia, Scarlett." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.
"How can one person cause such a drama?" John asked the room.
"Irene Adler is professionally known as 'The Woman'." Scarlett replied idly.
"Professionally?" John repeated.
"There are many names for what she does." Mycroft said, taking over from her. "She prefers 'dominatrix'."
Sherlock repeated the last word thoughtfully, "Dominatrix..."
"Don't be alarmed." Mycroft replied, "It's to do with sex."
"Sex doesn't alarm me." Sherlock replied a little too sharply. Scarlett had to fight the urge to visibly face palm.
Mycroft smiled snidely at him before saying, "How would you know?"
"Ah!" Scarlett exclaimed loudly and actual covered her face with her hands, "Will you both pack it in!"
Mycroft continued as Sherlock stared at him. "She provides – shall we say – recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it."
At this point he took more photos out of his briefcase and handed them over to the pair of them. "These are all from her website."
Sherlock took the photographs and leafed through them. They were professional-looking publicity shots for her 'services', showing Adler in various - she assumed - stimulating positions'.
"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs." Sherlock said as he kept flicking through the images.
The equerry looked almost startled, "You're very quick, Mr. Holmes."
"Hardly a difficult deduction." Sherlock replied, sounding almost bored. "Photographs of whom?"
The equerry hesitated and then said slowly, "A... person of significance to my employer... We'd prefer not to say any more at this time."
Glaring at him angrily, Sherlock put the photographs down on the table, no longer needing them.
"You can't tell us anything?" John asked.
"I can tell you it's a young person." Mycroft said after much deliberation.
John drunk from his teacup as Mycroft continued, "A young female person."
John's eyes widened whilst she and Sherlock shared a smirk.
"How many photographs?" Scarlett found herself asking.
"A considerable number, apparently." Mycroft said looking at her.
"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?" Sherlock asked. Scarlett rather thought that that was obvious and was pretty sure that Sherlock had just said this to rub salt into various pride stricken wounds belonging to the two men.
"Yes, they do." Mycroft said curtly.
"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios." Sherlock continued.
Yes, he was definitely trying to make them feel guilty about the situation.
"An imaginative range, we are assured." Mycroft conceited.
Just on a whim she looked in John's direction to find him staring blankly at Mycroft with his teacup still half raised. "John," she called, wishing to grab his attention, "you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now."
John quickly did as she advised as the equerry asked Sherlock, "Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?"
"How?"
"Will you take the case?" The equerry clarified.
"What case?" Sherlock asked sarcastically, "Pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, 'Know when you are beaten'."
He turned and reached for his overcoat which was draped across the back of the sofa.
"She doesn't want anything." Mycroft revealed.
Sherlock turned back towards him as Scarlett's other uncle continued, "She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour."
For the first time since the conversation started Sherlock finally sounded interested. "Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?"
"Sherlock..." John said in a warning tone.
"Hmm." Sherlock replied mindlessly.
He turned around and reached for his coat again before asking, "Where is she?"
Mycroft answered quickly, "Uh, in London currently. She's staying..."
Not waiting for him to finish, Sherlock picked up his coat, stood and started to walk away.
"Text me the details." Sherlock interrupted. "I'll be in touch by the end of the day."
They all stood quickly, Scarlett walked over to stand close to Sherlock.
"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" The Equerry asked sounding stunned.
Sherlock turned back to him, "No, I think I'll have the photographs."
"One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think." The Equerry replied.
Sherlock looked at him sharply, Scarlett could tell he was feeling indignant that he would doubt him.
Scarlett watched silently as Sherlock deduced the man quickly, yet critically.
She gave him a quick glance too, she knew that she wouldn't pick up nearly as much detail as Sherlock. Still, every bit of practice helped her progress.
He drank tea, woke early, rode a horse, went to public school and was a non smoker but he carried a lighter.
Whilst Sherlock looked at the Equerry Scarlett said to Mycroft, "We'll need equipment I imagine."
Mycroft nodded, "Anything you require. I'll have it sent to..."
Sherlock interrupted them, "Can I have a box of matches?"
Scarlett smirked at the equerry looked shocked, "I'm sorry?"
"Or your cigarette lighter. Whichever really." Scarlett added.
"I don't smoke." The man said, looking at her this time.
"No," Sherlock replied, "We know you don't but your employer does."
After a pause during which John frowned in puzzlement, the equerry reached into his pocket and took out a lighter which he handed to Sherlock.
"We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes." The equerry pressed.
"I'm not the Commonwealth." Sherlock replied curtly.
He took the lighter and put it into his trouser pocket, before turning away. Scarlett nodded her goodbyes and promptly followed. She heard John say to the men, "And that's as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you."
In an Estuary English accent, not sounding the 't' in the word, Sherlock shouted, "Laters!" Over his shoulder to the room he was leaving.
They were in a taxi on the way to the flat not long after when John asked, "Okay you two, the smoking. How did you know?"
Sherlock smiled briefly, then shook his head. Scarlett smiled fondly at the doctor.
"The evidence was right under your nose, John. As ever, you see but do not observe." Sherlock informed their companion.
"Observe what?"
Sherlock reached into his coat saying, "The ashtray." He then produced said item.
John laughed with delight as Sherlock tossed the ashtray into the air, caught it and tucked it back into his coat, chuckling.
When they got back to Baker Street Scarlett joined John and sat in the living room. On the other side of the kitchen Sherlock was busy hurling clothes around his bedroom. With the door open, the noise was distracting and finally Scarlett looked up from her searches online about Universities.
"What are you doing?" She asked as she pushed the lock button on her touch screen tablet.
"I'm going into battle. I need the right armour." She caught sight of Sherlock as he walked into view of the door frame. John was watching now too as Sherlock shoved on a large yellow hi-vis jacket.
Sherlock looked down at himself for a second before declaring, "No!"
Scarlett smirked as the hi-vis was ripped off and thrown across the room. "Scarlett! Downstairs, now. Catch a cab." Sherlock called to her and she stood up to do as she'd been told, but not before rolling her eyes at John – who was trying not to laugh.
After all that messing around Sherlock hadn't even bothered to change she realised when the boys finally joined her outside.
When they were all finally inside the taxi John asked, "So, what's the plan?"
"We know her address." Sherlock replied simply.
"What, just ring her doorbell?" John asked sceptically.
"Exactly." Sherlock agreed before adding to the cabbie, "Just here, please."
"You didn't even change your clothes." She pointed out.
"Then it's time to add a splash of colour." Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stiff piece of white card and placed it under his collar.
Scarlett looked at him incredulously and snorted, "You? A Victor? Really?"
Not too long after Sherlock had the cab pull over and the three of them pilled out. They were in a street presumably not too far away from Irene's house. She watched Sherlock pull off his scarf before he handed it to her.
He stopped, rolled his shoulders and turned around to face John.
"Are we here?" John asked, peering down the street.
"We're two streets away, but this'll do." Sherlock commented.
"For what?" John question, confused.
Sherlock gestured to his left cheek and to her surprise said to the doctor, "Punch me in the face."
"Punch you?" The other man replied seemingly shocked.
"Yes." Her uncle clarified, "Punch me, in the face." He gestured to his left cheek again. "Didn't you hear me?"
"I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking, but it's usually sub-text." John replied honestly. Scarlett laughed openly but stopped instantly at the look Sherlock was giving her.
"Oh, for God's sakes." Sherlock exclaimed exasperatedly – clearly bored of explaining himself. He lunged forward and punched John in the face and Scarlett recoiled with a gasp.
As John grunted in pain and reeled from the blow, Sherlock shook out his hand and then blew out a breath, bracing himself. John straightened up and immediately – and not surprisingly – punched Sherlock. The blow was a hard one and it sent Sherlock reeling also.
"Ow!" John cried loudly, making a point. The doctor flexed his arms, examined his knuckles. Sherlock finally straightened up, holding his fingers to the cut on his cheek.
"Thank you. That was – that was..." Sherlock began to say but stopped as John lunged for him again, punching him in the stomach, sending Sherlock back to the floor.
Scarlett watched open mouthed and wide-eyed on the side lines as the two still grappled. Sherlock was now doubled over with John on his back half–strangling him. The doctor's face was contorted with pent-up anger and frustration, an expression she'd never seen before. Sherlock was still struggling to pull his hands off him.
"Okay! I think we're done now, John." Sherlock half choked out as John continued to wring his neck.
Scarlett gasped and gave an astonished look as John replied savagely, "You wanna remember, Sherlock: I was a soldier. I killed people."
"You were a doctor!" Sherlock retorted, still being strangled.
"I had bad days!" John cried angrily.
"BOYS!" Scarlett yelled eventually, having had enough of the pair fighting. If they continued she was sure Sherlock would indeed end up dead.
They both look at her, turning their heads sideways in the direction of her voice. They had clearly forgotten she was there. She smirked as she looked at the scene, it looked like Sherlock was giving John a piggy back.
"If you're quite finished." Both of them cleared their throats and righted themselves, acting sheepish.
"Um, yes…Quite…" Sherlock said coughing before turning away from her, embarrassed, and walked out of the alley.
They only had to walk past a few more houses and they'd be at Irene Adler's house, "Everybody know the plan?" Sherlock asked them again and Scarlett rolled her eyes, annoyed.
"Just shut up and ring the doorbell." She told him.
Sherlock shot her a look as he stepped onto Irene's porch and rang the bell. There was a couple of seconds before the intercom was picked up on the other side of the door. "Hello?"
Sherlock stared into the camera wide-eyed and flustered. He talked in an anxious, tearful voice and kept looking around behind him as he spoke.
"Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I've just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they ... they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?"
Scarlett found it hard not to hit her face into one of the great white stone pillars that depicted the entrance to the house. There was no way this was going to get bought, surely.
"I can phone the police if you want." The same female voice asked. Scarlett guessed the voce belonged to a woman called Kate. A woman currently under The Woman's employment.
Sherlock tearfully replied, "Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?"
He took a step back, "Oh, would you ... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much." Holding a handkerchief to his cheek, he started to grizzle pathetically. Scarlett rolled her eyes, he really was bad at this.
The woman buzzed him in a few seconds later. Sherlock entered swiftly and she shrugged at John before following suit. Sherlock stayed in character as he said, "Thank you…Er, ooh!" He added when he looked around the entrance hall.
John came in last and shut the door, "Um, hi. Sorry, we were passing by, saw it happen." Scarlett said as she walked forward to greet Irene's maid – Scarlett had summarised – whilst profiling the woman – Irene was a woman of expensive and luxurious taste. She was pleased to see she had not been wrong.
"Yes." John agreed as he too stepped forward, "It's okay, I'm a doctor." Kate nodded, smiling slightly. Scarlett could read the woman like a book and she knew that the trio had been expected, but still, they played the game.
"Now, have you got a first aid kit?" John asked, distracting her from her thoughts.
"In the kitchen." Kate replied with a nod, pointing to a door behind her. "But please." She adding, gesturing towards the living room for Sherlock and John.
"Oh! Thank you!" Sherlock said graciously. Scarlett went to follow but was stopped by Kate.
"How about you let the doctor stay with him and you help me with the kit?" She asked before walking towards the door of the kitchen.
Scarlett looked at Sherlock and John briefly who were both stood in the living room door frame, "Um, yeah, sure."
When the two of them were in the kitchen Scarlett swiftly dropped the act, "Why am I in here and not out there?"
"Miss Alder's about to, shall we say…introduce herself. No need for you to witness it, seeing as you're quite a fan of hers, Miss Holmes."
Damn, these woman were good…
Welcome, welcome, welcome to the second instalment of the 'The Other Holmes' series! If you haven't read the first one then that's okay, but there will be spoilers in this one relating to tweeks in Series One. So you may want to go a read it regardless. Plus it's awesome and I'm bias.
If however you have rejoined me from the Series One Rewrite, welcome back! As I've explained I'm now at uni so the updates will be slower as I'm writing the segments one at a time now, I don't just have a back log. I promise I'll attempt to update as much as once a week. Sound fair? Good!
So, this is the first part of 'A Scandal in Belgravia' The second part should be up this time next week.
Please, Follow, Favourite, Comment. Most of all enjoy!
Speak soon,
HH