Chapter One: Shall We Dance?
Casey Novak, censured prosecutor of the NYCPD Special Victims Unit, stepped into a mellow London bar. Her red hair was pulled over her left shoulder as her green eyes scanned the area with a small amount of appreciation. She had nearly ran out if adventures in London, but retuning to New York was out of the question. The wound was still too fresh to return to that city.
Since her reprimand for violating the Brady rules Casey had become a bit of a shut in. She rarely left her apartment in the three months she remained in the city, and when she did she always hid her red hair under a thick baseball cap and wore large shades to cover her green eyes. She dressed like a teenaged boy and with her slim figure it was an easy look to pull off. At first Casey thought she was going through extreme lengths to avoid the media, until she finally read what they had to say about her mishap in court.
The press hardly needed an interview with Casey to ruin her image, their assumptions had done the job for them. All the papers wrote all about Casey's lie in court, possible disablement, suspension, or whatever they could think of to sell the papers. Casey knew that even if she did sit down to talk with the papers, there was nothing she could say to clear their damage. Nothing she could say while she was censured. So she left.
Casey came to London with the intent of spending time with her cousin, but Bridget hardly left her room except to eat, or report to her news station. Bridget was consumed with her work. Casey could not blame her, she would have been the same way had anyone visited her when she was working, especially when she was working. There was never an off day in the SUV, Casey never wished for one, but now she did not have a choice.
With a deep sigh the redhead pulled herself from her thoughts and fully entered the bar. She was startled when a woman rushed her direction. Casey side-stepped the flustered brunette who attempted to rushed pass her, the woman upset and near tears.
"Miss, is everything alright" Casey caught the woman's sleeve and the woman rudely brushed her off gave her a nasty look then continued out of the bar. With fleeting blink to the woman Casey shook her head. Had she missed her job that much to feel the need to rescue every woman in distress? Casey glanced at the newly vacant seat and made her way toward it. With a resigned sigh she sat down and tossed her hair over her shoulders. In her peripheral vision she caught the sight of a pair of piercing eyes on her.
"Do you smoke?" The man's deep voice lulled her. Casey had to blink several times to register that he had asked a question.
"I was under the impression that smoking was not allowed in London bars." Casey said.
"That was not my question." He quipped.
Casey's eyes narrowed. "That's my answer." She snapped then motioned for the bartender.
"Tourist..." The man sighed. Casey turned to him again as he began to speak in rushed even tones, his baritone voice velvety coating each word. "American, first time in London, not counting casual visits from youth, you're here alone, traveled alone, I would even say you reside alone but you smell like cigarettes except you do not smoke. Visiting family, but this is not a vacation. You are unemployed and it kills you doesn't it."
Casey exhaled and pressed her lips in a thin line. "Is that why you think I smoke?" she asked after a while.
"No I told you before you do not smoke, weren't you listening?" His lovely voice rolled.
"Oh yes I'm listening, how do I know you again? You seem to know a lot about me." Casey snapped irritated then stopped herself and considered, how did he know all these things? Suddenly she became suspicious "How do you know all this what do you want?"
"A cigarette smoker beside me would be marvelous."
"Don't play games with me who are you, what do you want and who sent you?"
"My my, aren't we paranoid." His low voice rumbled as his eyes lit up then in the same rushed tones as before he began to verbally deconstruct her. "Could it be you're on the run, deal gone wrong? Escape to London where they can't find you... no, no that that seems too low for you, there's some moral about you. You are not just some business clerk who stole money and tried to escape... You're too suspicious, with a wariness for a criminal mind. You must be in law enforcement, but you aren't some crooked cop, again too righteous. Someone should be after you, yes, someone very dangerous. You with your righteous trait added to your workaholic tendencies have made many enemies. Your job was your life, until they fired you that is, guess it never paid off. You must be very lonely without your draining job."
"Oh nice work." Casey clapped her hands mockingly "So what's it fly all the way to London for a few minutes on the front page? You journalist are pathetic. Well you found me now what? Write your story I'll even pose for your photo."
"I did not find you silly woman you found me, with no cigarettes in a smoking bar. Why would you come here if you did not smoke? Oh forgive me I forgot, tourist." He waved his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other.
"You are not sent from the papers?" Casey's hard expression softened somewhat.
"No" The man groaned irritated as he pressed his hands against his temples.
"Then how do you know all those things about me?"
"Easy" He paused then sighed dramatically "You checked your phone three times within the few minutes you walked into the door it's a habit, you berated yourself twice for it before you even began to walk completely in. You are either disappointed about a love affair or a job. Seeing as to how modest you attire is you are not here to find a rebound so it is work related. Everyone knows you are American, and it is quite obvious that you are lonely. And the fact that you are here alone indicates that you consider yourself comfortable enough in London to walk around alone, which must mean you have been here before and have roots in the city."
"What about-"
"Oh your moral, of course you would focused on that. You wanted to know why that woman left crying, it was me. Anything else?"
Casey opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand.
"No, no, I need a smoker." He waved his hands again "Please vacate the seat for the next possible smoker"
"You are a detective."
"You almost figured that out all by yourself. I am a consulting detective."
"What? How does that even work?"
"How do I work? I just told you, I consult." He sigh irritated again.
Casey rolled her eyes he did have a point. "What is your name?"
"I am Sherlock Holmes and no I am not interested in being your rebound."
"You said I was not looking for one."
"Good."
"I'm Casey Novak" She offered her hand, he shook it unenthused.
"Charmed"
"What are you doing here tonight Mr. Holmes?"
"I am celebrating" Sherlock said in a false cheer and raised his glass "My best friend's marriage. Or funeral." He took a deep drink
"You don't believe in love."
"It doesn't matter what I believe, now does it" He muttered into his drink.
"Why don't you buy your own cigarettes?"
"I am abstaining, can't you tell?"
Casey was just about to ask how she was expected to know such a thing but calmed herself. It was too amusing speaking with him, or maybe she really was lonely, he was right about everything else. "Would you like to dance with me Mr. Holmes?" Casey asked and smiled when she noticed that she had surprised him with her question.
Sherlock was just about to land another retort but paused. He did miss out on his one opportunity at the reception, which had landed him here. One dance, with a complete stranger, really could not hurt. He nodded and almost smiled, Casey could not repress her own as they stood. She led him to the dance floor then turned and placed her hands on his shoulders and his on her slim waist.
Casey could not remember the last time she had allowed herself to indulge in the company of someone none work related. Even though her companion for the evening was an irritable arrogant Englishman she still felt a sense of calm, light enjoyment. As she was turned in the man's strong arms Casey wondered had working for SVU really deprived of a social life and could this life be more enjoyable than her job.
"Stop it" Sherlock's deep voice rumbled in his chest. "You're thinking, it's ruining my dance."
"I'm sorry" Casey smirked, "Didn't know you could hear my thoughts."
"Hardly, but it does not matter stay focused, as I do enjoy a good dance, and a good dance partner."
"I will try to think more quietly then." Casey quipped sarcastically.
"No don't, just dance."
"I promise I am not here for a rebound" Casey said after a pause with a smile.
Sherlock's gaze was over her shoulder.
"I haven't even the faintest interest in you."
"I would have guessed that one in your line of work would be more skilled in deceit. But there is that moral code of yours." Sherlock said. "Lawyers should not lie Ms. Novak, didn't you take an oath?" He felt Casey tense in his arms as he turned her.
"How did you-" again, Casey's suspicion rose as she assumed Sherlock knew more than he should about her especially with his comment about lying. Casey turned to leave but Sherlock held her close.
"Relax won't you. It was a shot in the dark." His hands ran over her arms and shoulders "Law enforcement, but clearly not a cop, your frame is much too frail for that." He ran his hands over Casey's shoulders then took one of her hands in his "And you've probably never held a gun in your life." Sherlock noted her softness even as she frowned at him.
"I have." Casey snapped.
"Practice for a 'fun' girls night out does not count."
"Then what does?" Casey snapped again but Sherlock seemed to have not hearted her as he continued their dance.
It was then that Casey was able to pay more attention to her dance partner. He was tall, slender with dark curly hair. He was still dressed in his tux, must have just came from the wedding from the looks of it. Her deductions were not nearly as through as his, but she was no detective. She's an ADA, well, she was. That thought hurt. Casey shook her head, she really was obsessed with her job. Casey wondered was it that obvious, or was he really just that good?
Casey frowned in her thoughts even as Sherlock leaned her back for a lovely dip. She restrained her gasp at his intense eyes hovering over her with his firm body pressed against hers, he was more muscular than she presumed. Sherlock retracted the dip the song ended and Casey nodded.
"This next song is slow too if you would like to keep going."
Sherlock did smile this time "Yes, I would." He said then spun Casey in his arms as they melted into the next song. His best friend was married and he had finally got his dance, Sherlock was content.
The pair had spent majority of the night in the lull of the evening. Casey felt like she as in a dream and Sherlock, was happy he had both his dance and well trained partner. He smiled as he released her and kissed her hands gently.
"Thank you for the lovely evening Mr. Holmes." Casey said softly "And I apologize for the rough start."
"You are quite welcome, and don't worry, I forgive you." Sherlock said. Casey's smile dropped and she narrowed her eyes but Sherlock seemed, oblivious. "It seems I did not need that smoker after all." He muttered to himself "It's been soon long since I danced it cleared my head maybe I should have tired this earlier, but John, oh John would never have allowed... Well just that once but that was just practice for the wedding... "
Casey nodded and Sherlock began to retreat into mutters. "Ok good night Mr. Holmes." Casey said again.
"Oh, you're still here. Good evening." Sherlock said then returned to his mutterings.
Casey exhaled and shook her head then turned, exited the bar and tried to flag down a taxi. She could be upset that her first wonderful evening in a long, long time was with a muttering self-obsessed, domineering Englishman, but he was charming, in his own little weird way. How did he deconstruct her life so fast? He had some skill. "That's a nice party trick you have there Sherlock." Casey sighed to herself.
"Thank you." Sherlock said from beside her and Casey jumped out of her skin. "You are referring to my smooth dancing am I right? Or maybe my excellent skills of deduction, yes probably that, right?" Sherlock flagged a cab then opened the door for Casey "Shall we share?"
Casey was just about to reject, but seeing as to how she could never seem to flag one down on her own, she decided against it and climb in. Sherlock climbed in after her settled himself then shut the door. After a moment of silence he looked at her then smiled his full sculpted lips barley showing his teeth.
"You have to tell him where you're going dear." Sherlock said in a matter of fact tone then Casey spoke her address though clenched teeth. Again, seeming oblivious to Casey's irritation Sherlock spoke "I rather liked dancing with you Ms. Novak would you be interested in doing it again?"
"No rebounds remember." Casey said.
"Yes I know and this is not that. This is purely for my own personal gain and enjoyment. It clears my head and helps me think clearer than nicotine." Sherlock said then leaned in as if the last part was a secret "And it was a little enjoyable as well." He said in a whisper. Casey could not help but crack a smile.
"I'll think about it." She said and Sherlock continued to smile.
"Great then I will text tomorrow give me your phone." Sherlock lifted his hand expectantly but Casey's eyes narrowed.
"No, you will not." Casey snapped.
"Why not?" Sherlock asked innocently enough then in continued to speak in his rushed tones. "You're obviously not doing anything. No job and probably no work visa and getting paid under the table for side jobs is just far too beneath you not to mention an insult to your morals, such an honest type you are. You could spend the day touring the city, running the parks or biking to random places but you have already done that haven't you and it makes you feel even more alone when you've finished. So now all you have left to do is to spend time with your relative, probably female who is always at work, and the cat." Sherlock finished in a deadpanned "I noticed the cat hairs on your boots" He said as Casey glared at him with her thin lips held tightly.
"You have to be the most infuriating person I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and I prosecute murders and sex offenders so that's saying something." Casey's calm near raspy voice said "Correct, I don't have many alternatives, but I would rather continue with my lonely existence as you so clearly pointed out, or be stuck in a cab with one of those psychopaths than spend any more time with a lonely, self-obsessed, show-off who feeds of making people feel less than superior than himself to overcompensate for his own miserable existence." Casey snapped "Driver you can stop right here, I'll walk the rest of the block."
"No she won't" Sherlock affirmed the driver then returned his attention to Casey "You're a prosecutor, I knew it. Of course. Murder cases you say? Kidnappings, serial killers, the occasional drug bust?" Sherlock's eyes lit up as he leered over Casey. She shrunk back from his increasing proximity but affirmed her tasks with a nod. Then Sherlock smiled. "Perfect." He sounded triumphant.
"Please pull the car over now." Casey said.
"Don't" Sherlock affirmed the cabby once more then turned back to Casey "You are perfect." He said and noted Casey's defensiveness as she slipped her hand into her bag in what she thought was a stealthy manner. "My partner just got himself married with a baby on the way. Now this is all very good for him and I am delighted, really I am, but it puts me in a compromising position, sometimes he will not be there and I like to have someone near to help spark my genius, it helps if they have medical skills or extreme exposure to criminal activity. With your expertise in prosecuting these criminal minds, you could be a well-off replacement. Would you like to come along? In his place when he cannot be there?"
Casey made a face and prepared her decline but was distracted when Sherlock slipped her cellphone from her pocket and began to enter his number.
"Oh let's not pretend like you don't miss it." His voice was low, and almost a purr "The rush the chase, the feeling of putting someone behind bars and making them pay for what they have done, giving them all they deserve. The only difference is now, now you will be on the front lines. No more wondering if the detectives got it right no more what ifs, no now, now you will be in charge, the first one there. You have the opportunity to make sure every scrap of evidence is gleamed, untainted and have the pleasure of catching the culprits before they act again."
"I feel like I am being propositioned by the devil."
"No my dear, the devil is out there, setting the board, waiting for us to start the game. Will you play?"
"I will think about it." Casey said firmly and Sherlock groaned as a petulant expression crossed his face.
The cab parked. "This is my stop" Casey said then passed her money to the driver but Sherlock halted the process with another reprimand to the cabby. "Thank you" Casey said. She glanced at Sherlock who still loomed over her. He placed her phone in her waiting hands and slipped out the cab and ushered Casey out.
"Thanks again Mr. Holmes." Casey said "I had a great evening."
"As you said before." Sherlock escorted her to her door then turn to leave "Remember my offer Ms. Novak." Then he climbed into the cab. Casey shook her head then turned into the house.
Casey leaned against the door of her cousin's flat and tried to shake the offer away. It had been a good evening with a spoiled Englishman. She tried to convince herself that that was all she wanted to take away from it, but she could not shake it. Casey slumped from the door and began to make her way to the bathroom but stopped at her cousin's quick descend down the stars.
"Going away for a few days Case, got a big story coming up It'll redeem me from last week's failure I'm sure." Bridget said
Casey nodded, 'everyone needs redemption.' Casey thought to herself 'A sense of accomplishment... a chase...'
"You alright?" Bridget asked
Casey nodded again. "I'm fine, how many days?"
"Not sure yet, but don't worry, I'll keep in touch. Please take care of Mr. Whiskers while I'm gone." With that the owner of the flat walked out in the middle of the night, and jumped into her car then drove off.
Casey groaned as the tabby cat rubbed his face against her leg. She decided that she disliked Sherlock Holmes, she didn't even know the man well enough, but she hated it that he was right. With one long groan Casey gave into her curiosity and made her way to her laptop. Even though she hated to admit it, she was the slightest bit interested in the only consulting detective she had ever met.
This story could be considered a cross-over, but not really I just took SVU's Casey Novak and put her in London. This fiction excludes the last episode of Season Three of Sherlock.
I don't own Sherlock or SVU.