A/N: Hello again! That's two updates for you in one day. Isn't that exciting? You can thank my muse for this one and because I was writing this one, I was able to write a new chapter for "The Affair of the Star-Crossed Lovers".
The name is pronounced (lie-ya) ;)
Sherlock went through the mail tossing each piece back on the coffee table with a "Dull!" or "Boring!" At the bottom of stack were two parchment envelopes, one addressed to him in a masculine hand and one addressed to John in a feminine hand.
Sherlock smiled his wicked grin, shuffled John's envelope among the rest of the mail and sat down in his chair to open his own mail. He quickly glanced over it and his grin threatened to spilt his face. He shoved the letter between the arm and cushion. He steepled his fingers under his chin and muttered, "Oh, this is going to be fun."
Sherlock waited as John came up the stairs to their flat and entered their living room. The detective watched as John went through the motions of divesting himself of his day. He took off his coat and placed it on the coat rack, he toed off his shoes, and as he took out his keys and wallet to place them on the desk next to his laptop, he turned to Sherlock, "Any mail?"
Sherlock waved his hand vaguely toward the table. John rolled his eyes at his flatmate. While John was grateful Sherlock had granted him the miracle of his return, he wasn't fond of the brassy attitude that came with it.
John sorted through the stack and wandered off when he got to the fancy envelope, opening it up as he entered the kitchen.
Sherlock scowled as heard John say, "Hey, Mary. How would you like to go to fancy party next week?" John's laugh echoed through the flat. "I thought you would like that," he paused as he listened to her. "An old friend of mine, we recently reconnected online." He laughed again, "Yes, it's a woman but she's been married for years. To some actor apparently….no one I've heard of at least. He's quite big in the states from what she told me."
"Some TV show. They lived there while he did the show and she traveled the country with her art." John hummed. "Not sure really. Though quite popular, I understand." John laughed again and then he cursed. "Bugger! My suit doesn't fit anymore." There was a longer pause. "Tomorrow it is. You'll help pick out a suit that isn't too terrible and I get to be your pack mule."
Sherlock huffed. It wasn't as though he disliked John's girlfriend, Mary. Quite the opposite in fact. He found her to be one of the most charming women he's had the fortune to have met. No, the problem was that since John had come home he had barely said two words to the detective in favor of the child therapist. And that simply would not be borne. But as he moved to stand up to do a proper sulk on the couch, John came out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea.
He handed one to Sherlock and took a sip of the other. He grimaced and then swapped with his friend. The two of them stared at each other before they broke into a laugh.
John sank into his chair opposite the dark-haired detective with a contented sigh. "Not that you'll remember; you'll probably delete or something, but Mary and I are going out next Saturday."
Sherlock said nothing as he pulled two cards out of his left inner jacket pocket. He flicked them at John who deftly caught them. One simply said "Sherlock Holmes" in the detective's own hand on smooth card stock; the other was a platinum card in Mycroft's name. John huffed out a laugh.
"Does he know you have this?" John asked, arching an eyebrow at his friend.
Sherlock waved the comment with a careless movement of his hand. "Doesn't matter. The least he could do is to buy you a new suit. Just hand them my card at any establishment on Savile Row and they'll take care of all your needs. In fact, take Mary to a nice lunch as well."
John tapped the cards against the palm of his hand as he thought it over. He wasn't sure he like the idea of using Mycroft's card without his knowledge or his permission. Even if the man was an utter twat.
"Why don't you buy something nice for Mary as well. Get her an expensive dress and all the other things that ladies require to go with it."
John's resolve crumbled at the thought of getting Mary something special. He sighed and got up to put the cards in his wallet. He shook his head and muttered to himself, "Sherlock Holmes, you are a bad, bad man."
Really that should have been John's first clue that Sherlock was up to something, if not the second or third, but at the time he thought nothing of it. And when it did cross his mind later, he merely assumed it was part of the game the two brothers played in trying outsmart the other.
The next day John took Mary out and she squealed with joy when she discovered where they were going.
John got his suit on Savile Row but the rest of his things like the shirt, tie and shoes at Paul Smith. Sherlock had highly recommended him. Mary got her dress at Armani, and the shoes at YSL, complete with matching clutch.
As they sat at one of the many fancy coffee shops in Soho, Mary sighed happily, surrounded by her packages. John would have to go back on Tuesday for the final fitting and the finished suit would be delivered to Baker Street on Friday.
"This was awful nice of Mycroft, love," she murmured and then she inhaled the warm, sweet scent of her luxury coffee.
"Well…." John hedged. Mary laughed.
"Let me guess, Sherlock stole it off him when he was being annoying?"
"Which is always," John said, doing his best imitation of the posh detective. The two of them laughed.
"So how did he convince Captain 'Strong-moral-principles'?" Mary giggled. John merely waved his hand at her packages. "Hmm…wouldn't do it for yourself but for me you would. That's very telling, Captain," she murmured leaning in close. John shivered with excitement.
"Is it now, Miss Morstan? In what way?" John's voice dipped to a throaty growl. Mary just giggled again and raised her arm for the check. John joined in her giggling as they scrambled to find a taxi.
Friday came and so did the suit. Sherlock actually deigned himself to answer his own door for once and took the garment bag from the delivery man. Sherlock opened the bag slightly and was pleased with the color and texture. He sent off a quick text.
Looks marvelous. My thanks. -SH
I'm glad you approve, Mr. Holmes ;) -MM
Sherlock grimaced at the emotion icon but short of begging and pleading, nothing Sherlock did got Mary to stop sending them. In fact, he was sure their frequency increased. He went up to John's room and set the bag on John's bed. He then went to his own room and pulled out the suit that had been delivered to him earlier that week.
Sherlock unzipped the garment bag and laid out the suit on his bed. It was a midnight blue tailed suit with a silver waistcoat and matching gloves. He went to the bottom of the closet and pulled out the midnight blue patent leather dress shoes. He went to his top drawer and pulled out two small boxes.
He smiled as he set on top of his dresser. He changed into his usual lazy day clothes, raggedy t-shirt, pajama bottoms that slung low on his waist, and his best dressing gown, the blue one. He picked up one box at a time and gave them a quick toss in the air before sliding them into his dressing gown pocket.
John came home from the surgery to his flatmate playing his violin at the window. That was one of the things John did miss about the tall detective while he was gone. The constant sound of violin playing.
John smiled as he watched Sherlock throw himself into the music. When the piece was through, John clapped to show his appreciation of his friend's talent. Sherlock turned around and bowed.
"Yes, yes. You're fabulous as always, Sherlock. Did my suit come today?"
Sherlock nodded, "It's safe up in your room." John grinned and ran up to grab it. Then like a child he came down to show it off to the detective. He pulled out the suit to reveal a light grey suit with wide silver pinstripes and black shirt with black accessories, except the tie, which was the same silver as the pinstripes.
Sherlock nodded appreciatively at the ensemble. Digging into his pocket he hollered "Catch!" before lobbing the two boxes one after another at John. John caught each one deftly and looked at them strangely before the realization dawned on him what they were.
Sherlock smiled. "I don't wear ties and all my shirts have buttons," he said as John opened the first box to reveal the tie pin Sherlock received for rescuing that banker. Which meant the other box was the diamond cufflinks from the recovery of the Reichenbach Falls painting.
"I-I can't take these Sherlock. They were gifts. For being you-for helping those people, I can't-" John said in clear distress.
Sherlock's smile softened. "Of course not, but don't friends lend each other things?"
John sighed, and that statement coupled with Sherlock's fond expression forced him to cave.
"Of course, Sherlock. I'd be honored to wear them."
So when John dressed for the party the next night, the diamond cufflinks went on the cuffs of his silk dress shirt and the tie pin went on the silk tie. John took one final look in the mirror and marveled at the man peering back at him. The suit took ten years off his appearance. He smiled at the result and took off for the living room to grab his keys, mobile, and wallet.
Sherlock twirled his finger upside down to indicate John should turn around. Rolling his eyes, John did as he was bid.
"Very nice, John. I'm sure you'll be the talk of the town tonight."
John grinned. "Thanks to you…. And Mycroft," he added. Sherlock laughed and made shooing motions. John took the hint, grabbed the nice pea coat he had acquired in Sherlock's absence, and left Baker Street to hail a taxi.
Sherlock watched out the window to make sure that John wouldn't be returning for anything and then dashed off to his room to get dressed himself. He pulled out the simple white shirt he had worn the day he met John and put it on. Sentiment, he thought, without bitterness or gall. He got dressed quickly and grabbed his Belstaff as he dashed out the door and into the cold London air. He was slinging it on when a small black sudan pulled up to the curb. Sherlock slid in with a grin.