'Sherlock's Secrete' it's (sort of) in the Stripper!lock AU. (It's a bit risky but I've been wanting to write this for a while now.) Hope you enjoy!
Every Friday morning now for the last few years now John has noticed something. Something peculiar. A rather lot of money somehow gets into Sherlock's bank account every Friday morning with no explanation of why. Yes, John wasn't too upset about it, who could complain about extra income? But he just wanted to know where it was coming from and why hasn't Sherlock ever mentioned it before? John couldn't believe it, he's been missing this for all this time. Every Thursday, Sherlock stayed in his room rather suspiciously and almost silently. He never left it, ever. Not for tea, not for a date with his fiancé, not even a murder - even if it was an 8, 9 or a 10! No-one ever knew why he stayed in his room every Thursday. What was Sherlock's big secret? John asked every week, 'I'm ill', 'I'm doing an experiment.', 'I'm composing.' the list of lies kept on coming, week after week. John (with his short temper) obviously so annoyed by this and was slowly becoming angry and agitated by Sherlock's big secrete. Thoughts raged through John's mind: How could he marry someone who was so ashamed of themselves? Why won't he tell me what he's doing? What is he doing that's so important? What other secretes doesn't he tell me?
One week John was so irritated and outraged with Sherlock's lies, all he wanted was the truth.
*Knock Knock*
'Sherlock, please tell me what are you doing in there? Please, I want to know.' John spoke softly.
'I'm ill.', came the reply from behind the door.
'No you're not, you said that a couple of weeks ago. Please, let me in. Sherl, I love you - no matter what.'
There was a long awkward pause.
'Fine, come in then. Trust me, you're not going to like what you see.' Sherlock finally replied with.
'Sherlock, after living with you after all these years, there is nothing you can say or do that will surprise-'
John walks into Sherlock's room and his face IS the definition of surprise and astonishment, only to find Sherlock sitting on a stool in front of his dressing table and mirror and completely dressed head to toe in Victorian Drag wear and makeup
'I take it back, out of all the years I've known you, and this has to be the weirdest thing I've seen in a long time.'
'I'm so sorry John. If you don't want to marry me now. I completely understand.'
'I'm not too sure I do understand, but if this is what makes you happy, then I'm all for it.'
John and Sherlock share a laugh and a smile of understanding.
'Would you like me to explain?'
'No, there's no need to explain to me, I trust you. As long you're not seeing other men.' the doctor joked.
'No, no. It's just work I do. At a... bar downtown.' the detective said shamefully.
'Just look at all my stuff, it's in boxes and crates under the bed.' Sherlock continued.
'Don't go to work tonight.' John interrupted.
'Why not?'
John didn't reply as he seductively walked over to Sherlock and slid onto his lap and wrapped his arms round the other man's neck and gazed lovingly into the pure cerulean eyes of his lover.
'Because my dear, you are going to take off that silly dress, and silly tights and ridiculously high shoes and wipe off that makeup. And you're going to make your way to the bedroom and wait to receive.' commanded the soldier.
'What am I going to receive? Orders?'
'Much more than orders.'