In my opinion, the most difficult part in writing Sherlock is how to convene the depth of his emotions and at the same time keeping him in character (meaning him burying his emotions like a serial killer his victims). This is why I started to imagine some dreams he might have (and where of course, he would totally be OOC) and had such fun with that, that I eventually made a draft of it. The idea which pleased me the most was totally ripped from a great movie called "We might as well be strangers". In the movie, there is a scene where the hero goes to choose a ring for his fiancée and finds himself hesitating between three rings, which are a metaphor for what's going on in his life then. So, this is an homage to this particular part of the film (which I had such great fun to apply to Sherlock).

Hope you'll like it. :)

This was a dream. Sherlock was quite sure of it. After all, he couldn't remember how he got from the crime scene to there, in a jewellery shop, staring at rings. Most of all, he wasn't on a case that required him to have a look at engagement rings. Or was he? He shook his head up and the jeweller came to him. The man looked like his father. More than that, he was his father. The same knowing twinkling eyes and gentle manners. And while Sherlock was conscious that this was his father, he also knew that he was not his father but a complete stranger.

"Hello Mr. Holmes, can I ask you what is the occasion?" asked his-father-but-not-his-father. Yet, with just a look at him and the way he smiled, Sherlock knew that the jeweller already knew.

The detective shot a glance at the shop. It was dark. Much darker than it should be. Soft golden ambient light from fixtures just above the jewels, making gems shine much more brightly. The atmosphere was at the same time mysterious and glamours. Not at all like in reality. Anyway, he felt a compulsion to answer the man.

"Yes. Indeed. Marriage." He answered, not knowing what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth.

"Ah yes. Very important occasion indeed. Your work, of course?" said the man, knowingly.

"Of course." Replied Sherlock "So I've been thinking about the rings. There are two, I think, that are adequate." Said Sherlock gesturing to two rings in the glass drawer in front of him.

"Very good choice. If I have to say. Let me show you."

The man took out the first ring and showed it to Sherlock

"So this is a perfect diamond, finest water, I won't bother you with the carats and the grade. You obviously know them. As you can see, it is in a marquise cut with two dark rubies at the sides, platinum band. Look at how it dazzles the eyes. The magnificent play between the reflected light of the diamond and the dark almost black velvety red of the rubies. Very rare those. But of course you should know. A beautiful ring, almost so beautiful that it cuts. A ring made for a woman no one could ignore, a woman used at commanding attention." Explained the man at Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded. The ring, indeed, was extraordinary. It could go very well with his work. Keeping him on his toes, pushing him to go a little farther, a little higher. But there was also that untrustworthy, dangerous glint to it. Something that was keeping him back from choosing it. Well, there was also the other one. He gestured to the man to have a look at the second ring. The man obliged.

"Now, this ring. It's completely different from the first one. More traditional in a sense. This is definitely the ring that all women dream about having on their fingers. Look at it: a solitary diamond, princess cut on a platinum ring. And look at how it glitters in the light. It's almost vibrant with wit and playfulness, isn't it? It's not of the highest purity but it has this little pretty lilac hue that is just so charming and a little surprising. This one is for a confident woman obviously, confident in her beauty, in her worth and that isn't afraid at coming back at anyone who would dare crossing her."

Sherlock looked at the ring. Yes it was definitely charming, light and fun even. It was attractive but he didn't know if that was what he'd need for the work. Yes, it would distract him nicely but wouldn't it distract him to much? He glanced between the two rings, not grasping what it was that made circumspect about them. They kind of fit but not that much. They felt, somewhat unidimensional. Fitting one aspect of this work but not the others.

And then, his eyes caught on another ring that was not in the glass drawers but behind the man, almost hidden. He gestured to it and asked the man so he could have a look at it. The man turned, slightly taken aback but then went to get the ring and showed it to Sherlock. Sherlock curious about the display of surprise, asked about it:

"What it is about that ring? Is it reserved?"

"No, not at all. Actually, she'd just been returned by a gentleman." Said the man, still looking at the ring in his hands. "But that's alright, he was not quite the one to handle such a jewel. I have to say that I was quite surprised that he liked it… But well." The man smiled but was shaking his head sadly.

Sherlock felt his curiosity pricked even more. The man was passionate about his job, the speeches he made, the obvious clue of that, but there was almost an element of sentiment in the way he talked about the ring. Sherlock looked at the man silently and expectantly, trying to prompt him on. Thankfully, the man took the hint.

"So as you can see, this is a cushion yellow diamond on a rose gold ring, with two other small white diamonds tapered on the sides. It's quite unusual as an engagement ring, one could almost be oblivious of it – it can be mistaken for some random ring, people believing it a citrine but no, it's much stronger than it looks. It's because when you look straight at it, you just see the yellow diamond: pretty and with beautiful subdued fractal light – one could almost miss them. But then, you turn the ring just a little more to the left – the direction of the heart - and the diamonds tapered on the side appear and it's like the ring suddenly takes fire, the light of the white diamonds stoking the fractal light of the canary diamond and the rose gold band. This ring might look common, even boring to the lay man – not at all the adequate engagement ring, but it does have hidden depths, surely you can see it."

At the speech and as he saw the ring in just the right light, Sherlock could feel his throat constrict. This was truly magnificent indeed. At the same time, not at all distracting and yet, almost altering in another light. He almost reached for it before shaking his head. He had to remain calm and logical. He couldn't afford to lose his head and let his instinct decide. So he asked:

"The man who returned it? Why?"

"Failed engagement." Replied sadly the man. "You see, this ring is unlike any other. It's not for just anyone. It might look like it but it's not. This ring is for a woman with hidden depths. A woman who hides her light under a sunny exterior and only shows it at the most unexpected moment. This is the kind of woman that not many a man can find nor appreciate. It seemed that unfortunately, the fellow couldn't held onto her." The man hunched his shoulders in a most Gallic manner.

Sherlock looked at the ring, finding himself inexplicably drawn to it. There was a warmth to this that the others had not, a sense of… he didn't know. He was no poet. That rush of sentiment was a little frightening he had to admit. So he forced himself to look at the other rings. They were beautiful. More traditionally beautiful than the last one. He looked at the first, the dazzling marquise diamond and two rubies and then the other, the beautiful witty princess diamond solitary with its lilac hue. But his eyes were once again magnetised by the yellow diamond, softly shining with subdued nuances. He cleared his throat:

"I like them. I mean, I like the three of them." He said, trying for control.

"Yes, but you have a preference, don't you? The previous two might have caught your attention at first. But since you've noticed the other, you don't feel the same do you?" remarked the man, looking at him observantly.

Sherlock could feel his heart beat faster. And a strange heat uncurl in his stomach. Yes, the yellow ring, the one with the hidden fire, was not the same. He might not have noticed it at first but, now, it seemed that it was the only one he could see fit for work. No other one. But why was that making him feel so peculiar? He knew he had a similar feeling a brief instant when he had watched the diamond and rubies but thinking back, it didn't come even close. A creeping feeling that suddenly stole his breath away, firing up deep longing and intense need. Once again, Sherlock felt the need to clear his throat.

"Would you keep it for a while?" he asked, not bothering to say which ring he was referring to. The man obviously knew as the smile on his face took a delighted but also a little wicked edge.

"I will, of course. But you should know: another gentleman has asked about it. He also missed it the first time around. But now…" remarked the man with kind and sad eyes. He suddenly seemed to remember himself "Well, anyway, I'll keep the ring on hold for now. But, don't you forget about it. You don't know who might come and snatch it up from under your nose."

The last words felt like a knife in his gut. But before he could say anything else, the room morphed in another and Sherlock found himself back in one of his cases. The game was again afoot.