Chapter 1.
"I'll pay you handsomely, Mr Holmes. I just want my mother's necklace found, please." The old man sighed, his salt-and-pepper moustache resting upon his lip as he pouted. His mother's diamond necklace had gone missing and he couldn't find it, no matter how hard he looked. He needed the best, he needed Sherlock, to get it back. It was all he had left of her, she died when he was just a young boy.
Sherlock pursed his lips and looked at the old man. "How much?"
"Ten thousand. I know you want higher but that's as much as I'm willing to pay right now."
Sherlock smiled and took the man's cheque. "That'll be fine, thank you. Don't worry, Mr Agnew. I'll find your mother's necklace."
Sherlock frowned as he was looking around the old man's house. He hated to accept the money, but he really needed it for John's birthday. He had something planned, something big. And he needed money for it. He just hoped word didn't spread that he worked for money now. All he needed was the thrill of thinking, solving the case. Mr Agnew owned several successful companies, making him reasonably rich. His house was huge, with stylish Victorian furniture and deep purple walls. The window panes were wood, carved into intricate designs at the borders, and the floor was deep mahogany with a dark rug in each room. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, and stone cherub statues sat in almost every room. Lifting a glove covered finger, he ran itacross the old mans dressing table. Spotless. Not a single bit of dust. Sherlock cocked his head and went over to the wardrobe. It was huge, with double doors with swirling patters at each corner. Sherlock stretched up and run a finger across the top of it. His fingertip came back covered in dust.
"How odd..." he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Stop fidgeting, Mr Agnew. It's annoying."
Mr Agnew stood nervously behind him, twisting his hands and muttering under his breath. "Sorry. What is? What have you found?"
"Dust."
"Dust? Why is that important?"
"I need to speak with your maids."
"Very well..."
Mr Agnew scurried off and came back into the room with seven maids. He arranged them into a line and Sherlock walked in front of them all, pushing some maids back until there was only one girl left in the was about twenty five, with long dark hair pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck. Her eyes darted left and right quickly before settling on Sherlock.
"What is it? Why am I the only one left?" Her voice sounded panicked.
Sherlock smiled and lifted up his finger. "You clean this room, yes?"
"Yes, sir. Twice a day, every day."
"And you clean all the furniture in this room as well?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you aware that Mr Agnew has lost a diamond necklace, Elizabeth?"
"Yes. I didn't take it if that's what you're implying! How did you know my name?"
"Nametag." Sherlock shook his head and bit his tongue to refrain from commenting on her intellect. "And I'm not implying anything. I'm proving."
Sherlock pulled the strings of her bonnet until it came loose. Taking it gently off her head, he flipped it over and handed it to Mr Agnew. Bundled inside was his mothers necklace.
"Marvellous! How did you know where it was? And Elizabeth! You're most certainly fired! I might even go to court with this!" Mr Agnews face turned a funny shade of puce.
Elizabeth paled. "Please, sir! Don't! I only took the neklace because I needed the money. My father is gone, my mother is an alcoholic and I have four younger siblings. I can barely afford the rent, even with my two jobs and I, I just needed a way out!" Tears were streaming down Elizabeth's face and her shoulders heaved with sobs.
Sherlock inched back away from the crying girl. He cleared his throat and began speaking. "Yes, well, it was easy. when you came in, all of you tried to tidy yourself, naturally. Hands pulling the aprons, fixing skirts, things like that. But you, Elizabeth, your hands constantly flew to your bonnet, as if trying to keep it still. The maids are assigned to different parts of the house. You and another maid work of this section, the bedrooms. Could it have been the other maid who did it? No. Why? Hair! She's fair haired, and you, are not. You really shouldn't use Mr Agnews's mothers posessions, you know. Her hairbrush is an antique. You left some hairs in it. Not from Mr Agnews mother- she died too long ago, plus she was a redhead, as you can see in the photos. A girlfirend? Unlikely. My Agnew is a man of business and there's no signs of female company anywhere.I just had to deduct and find out it was you. You cleaned the dresser perfectly, it was spotless. That's where Mr Agnew kept the necklace, the dresser. But the wardrobe however, that was dusty. A maid should clean everything in the room. The dust suggests that you snuck in, stole the necklace, dusted and cleaned the dresser then left before anyone could find you. Am I right? Of course I'm right."
Elizabeth hung her head in shame. "You're right, sir."
Mr Agnew's face softened. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm dissappointed in you, Elizabeth. But I understand why you did it. I won't take you to court, but I can't have you working here."
"But, but sir! I need the money!"
"That is why I'll be asking around my friends in the industry if they're hiring. You can work here until you get a new job."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Mr Agnew nodded and turned to Sherlock. "Well, thanks for finding it. Quickly, too. Good bye."
Sherlock smiled quickly and walked down the long halls. Running a hand through his hair, he exited the house, called for a taxi and headed to the bank.
Chapter 2
John was sitting in his armchair when Sherlock came home. He strode in and flung his coat aside, sending John a quick smile. John smiled and ran a hand thorugh his hair, messing it so the front stuck up.
"Well that was easy."
"What was?" John asked, setting down his newspaper.
"The case. It was the maid. Always check for dust John!" Sherlock walked over and sat in his own seat.
John chuckled and shook his head. He would have liked to have gone along, but he had work and-considering how many days he'd already missed due to crimes with Sherlock-couldn't afford to miss another day. Sherlock looked and John and smiled warmly. He couldn't wait to tell him. John raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"What?" he asked. Sherlock wasn't usually like this. By now he should've insulted John and his work, commented on someone's stupidity and be moaning about wanting a new case.
"What?"
"Why are you being so... different?"
"I'm not being different."
"Yeah you are."
"Okay, maybe I am. But I have good reason, John. I'm excited. Very excited, actually."
Sherlock stood up and pulled John up from his seat. John stumbled into him and felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him protectively. John sighed and sank into Sherlock, looping his arms around his waist. He had barely seen him all day, it was nice to finally feel close to him.
"What are you excited about?" he questoned, tilting his head up.
Sherlock smiled and leaned down to John's ear. "Oh it's a surprise." he whispered, his fingers trailing down John's back.
John shivered and leaned into him. "What kind of surprise?" His own hands had slithered down to Sherlocks hips, his thumbs sliding playfully into his beltloops.
"A good one. A very, very good one."
John nuzzeled his head against Sherlocks neck. Sherlock was pulling him in, his long hands at the base of John's spine.
"What is it?"
"We're going to Scotland, John."
Chapter 3
"Why? Why are we driving? Couldn't we just take a plane? And who's car is this? And when did you learn to drive?" John moaned and sulked in the passenger seat. Sherlock was driving, his fingers tapping on the wheel. Mrs Hudson was waving them off, a huge grin on her gentle face.
"So many questions. The car is a...favour from someone, you could say. And I didn't actually learn, but I know what I'm doing. More or less. Also, word of advice! Don't sulk, John. It's bad for your posture. As for the plane thing, you seem to forget that your boyfriend is Sherlock Holmes. I have a lot of enemies, flying is not the safest." Sherlock started the car. Soon, they were whizzing away from 221B Baker Street.
John softened at the word 'boyfriend'. He always loved when Sherlock said it, it made him feel all fuzzy inside. "That doesn't really make me feel safe. I guess I understand the plane thing. But, why are we going to Scotland?"
"For your birthday, obviously."
"You're taking me to Scotland for my birthday?"
"Why not? The Queen likes it."
"I'm not the Queen, Sherlock."
"No, sadly. But you are my boyfriend. Which means you have to shut up and appreciate the things I do for you."
"Like driving me to Scotland."
"Like driving you to Scotland, exactly."
John was silent for a minute. "I didn't want anything anyway."
"Well it's your bloody birthday in three days so you're getting a trip to Scotland! Now stop complaining and turn on the radio or something."
John shook his head, defeated. "Fine."
Mumbling, John flicked throught the stations until he found the one he liked. Coldplay's 'paradise' was flowing softly from the speakers. John tapped his foot in beat with the music, smiling when the songs changed from Coldplay to Muse, to Train. He and Sherlock talked every now and then, but it was a comfortable silence. Sherlock was just happy to glance over and see John. He looked great, with dark denim jeans and a t-shirt on. Sherlock could see John's muscled arms, sitting loosely in his lap.
"How long have we been driving for?" John asked, staring out the window. He didn't know where they were, but he enjoyed seeing less houses as they drove away from London.
"We've been driving for four hours. There's only about six hours left and we'll be there."
"I'm hungry. Can we stop at a service station or something soon?"
"Yes, we'll be at one in about-" Sherlock closed his eyes for four seconds and opened them. "- half an hour."
"I wish you wouldn't do that when driving."
"Do what?"
"Map out everyting."
"Well I'm hardly going to crash."
"You don't know that."
"Shut up and go for a nap, you're cranky."
Sherlock took his left hand off the wheel and wrapped it around John's. His thumb stroked the back oh John's hand softly. John yawned and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. He closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes.
"John. John. Wake up."
John sat bolt upright and flung his hands out to the side. If he was at home that's where his gun would be, but he wasn't at home, he suddenly remembered.
"Wow, calm down there. It's only me. We're at the station."
"Oh..Sherlock. I'm sorry, I-I just got a bit of a fright. Reflexes from, well, you know. Sorry."
Sherlock smiled and helped John out the car. When he closed the door behind him, John stretched and gave a huge yawn. As his arms went up, so did his t-shirt, and Sherlock could see the smooth outline of his six-pack.
"Right then. Let's go get some food. I need to pee, too."
"Lovely." Sherlock laughed.
"Shut up."
The boys opened the door to the station and walked in. It was pretty nice, with mint green walls and a half patterned carpet, half wood floor. There was a WHSmiths, a Costa Coffee and an arcade room.
"It's clean, too. I'm impressed."
"Yes, it's very nice. Can you get me like a slice of cake and a coffee from Costa please? I have to use to restrooms."
"Sure. Chocolate good?"
"Chocolate's fine, thanks."
John ran off to the toilets, leaving Sherlock standing there. He walked over to the counter and was greeted by a smiling girl with pale blonde hair. A pair of thick rimmed glasses sat upon her face. Sherlock could see she was a comic book geek. He could see the Batman buckle on her belt, and a Marvel comic was rolled up and tucked neatly into her back pocket.
"Hello! My name's Rowan, what can I get you?" She had a Blackburn accent.
Rowan. Unusual name. "Yeah, um, hi. Can I get a slice of chocolate cake and two coffees, large, please?"
"Yeah, of course. That'll be five pounds seventy please. The cake's for your boyfriend, I assume?"
"How did you know he was my boyfriend?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her.
"The way he looks at you? That's how my grandad looks at my granny. That's pure love in that look."
Sherlock softened and placed his money on the counter. "Oh. Well, yeah. It's for him. He's starving."
"Best feed him then!" Rowan smiled and passed the cake and coffees to Sherlock.
He picked them up and sat at a table. John strode out the toilet, looked around until he saw Sherlock and sat down infront of him.
"Oh, cake, yum."
John bit into his cake, enjoying the chocolate goodness. Sherlock laughed and leaned back in his seat. John has a bit of chocolate on his nose, which he wasn't even aware of.
"What's so funny?"
"Hm? Oh, nothing."
John went on to talk about the journey and how he still thought Scotland was a silly idea. Sherlock listened for as long as he could then snickered. John raised his eyebrows. Why was he laughing? Rowan came over and picked up John's plate. She cast a look at his face and chuckled.
"You've got chocolate on your nose."
"I do?"
Rowan laughed and picked up a napkin. Swiftly, she wiped the mess from John's nose. John thanked her and glared at Sherlock once she'd left.
"You didn't tell me?"
"No. It was far too funny."
John shook his head and drank the last of his coffee. "Ready to go?"
Sherlock nodded and follwed John out to the car. It was about twelve o' clock, and there was still a few hours of driving left to go. As Sherlock sat back down in the drivers seat, he looked at John again. The sun was shining through the window and onto John's face. It lit up his dark blue eyes, making them shine. His lips were resting in a slight smile and he looked happy.
John looked over and pointed at himself. "I can drive if you want to sleep?"
"No, it's fine. Besides, you dont even know where we're going."
John sighed and looked out the window as Sherlock began driving. He wasn't sure how he felt about the trip now. He was slowly warming up to it, actually. Sherlock said nothing for most of the journey. The silence was deafening. John sat for as long as he could before leaing over and turning the radio on. It was How to Save a Life by The Fray.
"Step one you say we need to talk, he walks. You say sit down, it's just a talk He smiles politely back at you You stare politely right on through..." John sang the words quitely, barely above a whisper.
Sherlock looked at him and sang along.
"Some sort of window to your right, As he goes left and you stay right Between the lines of fear and blame You began to wonder why you came!"
John laughed and the two men belted out the chorus in unison.
"Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend! Somewhere along in the biterness And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known, how to save a life!"
John collapsed in his seat, his body shaking with laughter. Sherlock himself was laughing, his low chuckle growing louder by the second. John smiled brilliantly and wiped a tear away from his eye.
"Oh man, we are good." he breathed, still chuckling.
"Good? Are you kidding? We're the best."
"Britains Got Talent!"
"The Queen would love to see us. The singings just a bonus."
John laughed and placed his hand on Sherlock's thigh. He was surprisingly a lot happier than before. He was sure it was down to Sherlock and his number. Sherlock shivered at John's touch.
"I wish you wouldn't do that when I'm driving."
John looked at him. "Do what?"
"Put your hands on me. It's distracting."
"What, like this?" John inched his hand up further.
"John I will crash this car if you move any higher."
John laughed and slipped his hand up more. "Really?"
"John for God sake! Can you be seductive later please? I'm trying to drive and you're not helping, just sitting there being all...sexy."
John chuckled and withdrew his hand. "Fine fine, sorry."
"I didn't say you had to take it off completely."
"I thought it was distracting?"
"Oh it is. But as long as you don't move it any higher I think I'll be okay."
John placed his hand on Sherlocks thigh again. He was feeling light and good and was starting to look forward to Scotland. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. John cast a look at Sherlock and smiled. He was gorgeous, as per ususal.
"Sherlock, I'm too hot."
"Believe me, I know."
"No, I mean temperature wise. Can you put the air-con on?"
"There's always other ways."
"Like?"
"Oh, I don't know. But taking your top off sounds pretty good to me."
"I'm not taking my top off, Sherlock."
"Why? You have perfectly good body. One I'd like to see actually."
"Because there's people outside."
"I'm sure it would brighten up their day."
John chuckled and turned the air-con on. "Maybe later. When we're alone."
"Oh these last four hours better hurry up."
Chapter 4
"We're here! Finally here." Sherlock rejoiced and parked the car outside a beautiful hotel.
"Wow...where exactly is 'here'?"
"Ackergill Tower Hotel. Near John o' groats. The top of Scotland. Isn't it beautiful?"
John looked at the hotel and his mouth opened in shock. It was stunning, a giant old castle with small turrets made of grey bricks. It was absolutely huge, two separate buildings attached with things almost like giant stone bridges, making it stretching out about the size of three and a half football pitches. It was old, with ivy growing up the side of one turret. The windows, however, were square with clear glass, adding a modern twist to the beautiful building. The back of the castle faced the sea, the view stretching out for miles and the courtyard was multiple shades of green, with clean cut trees and neat grass. John faced Sherlock and squeezed his hand.
"It's absolutely beautiful. I love it."
Sherlock smiled and squeezed John's hand back. "I'm glad. It's five star, obviously."
John stared in wonder at the gorgeous surroundings and smiled when Sherlock tugged him inside. Sherlock went up to the reception desk when a friendly looking woman sat.
"Hi, we're here for our room."
"Name, please?" her accent was thick and soft. The only thing that popped into Sherlock's mind was the movie 'Brave'.
"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes."
"Ah! Mr Holmes. Here you are then. Room... one hundred and twenty seven." The woman smiled and handed Sherlock a key.
Sherlock took the key and turned to John. "Get the suitcases."
John nodded and went back to the car, returning a minute later. He was rolling two small suitcases by his side. Sherlock took his from Johns hand and made his way to the sitting room. John smiled at the interior. The ceiling was cream, with a thin gold and black border at the top of the wall The walls were striped two shades of blue, one light and one slightly darker. Pictures of kings and queens hung on the walls, and even some decorative plated too. A grand piano sat by the windows, the panes of which were painted gold. The curtains were striped light blue and white, giving the room a light feel. On top of the piano were two vases of beautiful pink flowers and a bowl of nice smelling potpourri. A comfortable looking wicker chair sat by the piano, right next to a tall cream lamp. In the centre of the room sat a small baby blue couch. A wooden table with a white cloth draped over it sat beside the couch, with another vase of flowers on top of it. Directly infront of the couch was another wooden table, slightly larger than the rest, with books and magazines on it. Two pale pink arm chairs sat at the ends of the table, each with a decorative cushion on it. At the side, a wooden china cabinet was placed against the wall. Next to it was a huge fireplace, real bits of wood burning gently, giving the whole room a very homely feel.
"Oh, this is gorgeous..." John trailed of, looking at the room.
"And it's only the sitting room. How marvelous. I can't wait to see the bedroom." Sherlock drifted over to the piano and lifted the lid. Grinning, he sat down and began to play. Surprisingly, John sat down next to him and worked on the chords, the two of them playing a wonderous melody, enjoying how calming and happy the room felt.
"I didn't know you could play." They said in unison.
John laughed and grabbed Sherlock's hand. "I guess even after all this time we're still learning abbout each other."
Sherlock smiled and placed his lips against John's softly. "Yes. It appears that's true."
"Excuse me. Mr Holmes? I'm Gordon. I've come ta' take yer suitcases and show ye to yer room." Gordon smiled and took the cases. He walked away, leaving Sherlock and John to walk behind him.
John looked at Gordon. "Are you sure you don't want me to take one of those?"
"Och, naw! I'm awright, ta. You two jist relax, okay?"
John could barely understand the boy but he understood that he didn't need any help. After a short walk and an elevator ride, John and Sherlock reached their room and said goodbye to Gordon. With a deep breath, John opened the door. When he saw what was inside, he gasped.
"It's brilliant!" he yelled, grinning.
The room was huge, with wood flooring. A tartan rug sat in the centre of the room, matching the tartan curtains. Pale beige wallpaper lined the walls, and a light brown wood table sat in the centre of the rug.A few candles and books sat on it comfortably. A few pictures of the sea and the hills lined the walls, and the windows behind the curtains were huge. Two velvety blue arm chairs sat acroos from each other, and a large two seater dusty pink coloured couch sat inbetween them.
"It's so nice, isn't it?" John leaned into Sherlock.
"Wait till you see the bedroom."
Sherlock set the cases down and kicked the door shut. Smiling, he led John into the bedroom and watched his eyes light up. The room was huge, bigger than his own little livingroom in 221B Baker Street. The carpet was cream and the walls were light gold. A huge canopy bed was against the wall, with cream and gold curtains and a fluffy gold duvet. Next to the bed was a mahogany dressing table with a little lamp on it. A huge double door wardrobe was opposite the bed, right next to a smaller, but no less exquisite, dressing table with multiple mirrors. A large flat screen sat on a desk at the other side of the bed, next to the bathroom door. A few comfy looking chairs sat in the room and, once again, some pictures were hung on the walls. More vases of flowers sat in the room and filled the air with their fragrant smell.
"That's...That's our bed?" John was shocked, he's never seen such a huge, amazing bed.
"Yes. Isn't is lovely? And comfy looking. Very comfy looking..."
Sherlock took John by surprise and picked him up off his feet. Laughing, he laid John softly down on the bed. "So many things I want to do to you in this bed..." He whispered.
John's heart raced and his hands found their way to Sherlocks hair. He wanted him so much it was unreal, like a burning desire he just had to fufil.
"Really?"
"Oh yes. But for now, John, It's time to sleep."
John pushed Sherlock back and grumbled. "Tease."
Sherlock chuckled and started to undress until he was standing in just his boxers. Stifling a yawn, he helped John undress and lay next to him in the bed.
"Oh, this is comfy." He said, snuggling in next to John.
"Mmm." John could feel his eyelids droop more by the second.
"Goodnight, John."
"Night, Sherlock."
Sherlock fell asleep with a smile on his face. If only John knew what he had planned for tomorrow...It was going to be brilliant, that he was sure of.