Chapter Two

Hey y'all, just decided I'd add to this story because… you guys deserve it, please keep up the fantastic reviews they inspire me to do better things. Enjoy.

Charlie POV:

Thank god for weekends. After the past week of cases, dodging the bloody media to and from work and sending the boys off on several cravings errands she was worn out, completely drained. She had plans to just sit back, relax on the couch with her new book and hopefully find out if the rumours about chocolate covered cheese-balls were true. The whole thing had started that way too. 221B Baker Street was pretty flat when she woke up, she decided to drop in on her aunt briefly. They'd had breakfast and her aunt had been fussing again when the door went.

"You stay there dear, I'll get it." Her aunt said and Charlie smiled as she helped herself to another cookie. The peace was shattered when she her Aunty Em begin to shout.

"BOYS! YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!" She called and Charlie sighed. Pushing herself out of the chair she walked into the hall to see a passed out, slightly pudgy, middle aged man on the floor, she sighed and caught him around the waist, helping him rapidly up the stairs. Moments later the three semi-professional detectives were staring down at him.

"Charlie dear…Please tell me you didn't carry him up those stairs?" Mrs Hudson was clearly shaken as John and Sherlock came to stand beside her, John kneeling to check on the fallen man and Sherlock taking in the scene before him with his typical disdain. Charlie shrugged and patted her aunt's arm gently.

"He was semi- awake, almost carried me up the stairs himself." She said and grinned as Sherlock scowled down at the man.

"Go make a cup of tea Aunty Em and we'll take care of this..." Mrs Hudson nodded and, with a final glance at the poor man in the unfortunately mustard coloured vest, left. John was speaking consolingly to the fallen man and helping him into a chair as Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Sherlock stepped closer. She sighed.

"There goes my relaxing weekend, why did I stay here again?" She asked rhetorically.

"You still needed a shared place to stay now that your pay will be going to a child's education and care." Sherlock said smartly and she flinched.

"Oh, sorry forgot about that." She said tartly and he sent her a frown which she returned.

"I was just saying…"

"Yes Sherlock I know, just saying the obvious well sometimes people ask questions that don't need to be answered we call it rhetoric." She spat and turned away to fix the Victorian-patterned wall paper with a glare fiery enough to peel it away from the plaster.

"Guys!" John called, sounding both worried and amused,

"He's ready to talk."

Charlie scowled but sat down obligingly on the couch to listen to the man while Sherlock and stood before the sweaty individual.

"Tell us from the start, don't be boring." He ordered and so it began.

John POV:

The next morning saw John being driven towards a scenic valley, a laptop on his knees and an irritated expression on his face. The car stopped beside a mobile forensics unit – clearly they were still in the process of actively investigating the crime scene, he just hoped he didn't run into the valley equivalent of Anderson. Honestly the guy gave him the creeps, every time they had been at Scotland Yard the man leered after Charlie like a scrap of meat. He could tell his friend was as disturbed by this as he was but she was far too cool to say anything. He smirked at the memory of Sherlock threatening Anderson's future possession of all his toes, explaining a theory had occurred to him about stupidity and metatarsal balance. It had been interesting to see the speed at which blood left the human face and how fast one could walk away from a dangerous individual. A ginger haired policeman disturbed his thoughts as he knocked on the window and John rolled it down.

"I'm here to see DI Carter?" John smiled. The man nodded, obvious new to the force.

"Yes…yes of course….Sir," He turned and walked over to a suited man who'd just come off the phone,

"There's a gentleman in the car, apparently they need to speak to you."

"Yes I know," He spoke as he got out of the car,

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"John Watson… are you set up for Wi-Fi?"

Charlie POV:

The smell of coffee awoke her from her slumber and she rolled out of bed. She grabbed her newly purchased iPod and plugged the earphones into her ears. Moments later she was jigging down the hall and into the lounge room, as Nine Inch Nails rang through her head. Mid rock-pirouette she froze at a sight she hadn't thought she'd ever see again.

"Sherlock?" She queried, wanting to make sure she wasn't just hallucinating. The detective whirled around and stared at her.

"Uh, Charlie… you're awake, excellent." He said and turned back, she noted a faint pink beginning to creep into his cheeks. Oh my. He was draped in a sheet, a thin cotton sheet, and nothing else. She smirked, reminiscing on the last time she'd seen him between sheets.

"What's up?" She asked, coming to sit down beside him as casually as she could. Nine Inch Nails was cut off as she folded herself into her regular yoga position. The picture on the screen clicked on and she saw John, standing in a rather nice looking valley surrounded by police.

"Oh, hello John… he sent you off then?" She asked and the poor man nodded. Sherlock yawned.

"You realise this is a tiny bit humiliating?" John asked as Sherlock picked up a cup of coffee, he also held out her morning cup of tea and she smiled delightfully. She paused and sniffed it cautiously, aware of her flatmate's often unusual cooking practices.

"It's okay I'm fine. Now show me the stream."

John turned with the laptop so it faced the water trickling through the valley.

"I didn't mean you Sherlock." John said as he walked.

"Look, this is a six. There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven, we agreed. Besides I couldn't send Charlotte because she is in a rather delicate condition and wouldn't wake up even when I yelled at her." Sherlock said smartly and Charlie cuffed him lightly, just to prove how delicate she was. He adjusted the screen and his face.

"Now go back and show me the grass."

"When did we agree that?" John asked as he knelt to show Sherlock the grass and the ginger police officer held out an extended tape measure to show him how far the blood had spread.

"We agreed it yesterday…Stop! Closer." Sherlock commanded.

"I was out all day yesterday, how could we have discussed this?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"It's hardly my fault you weren't listening." The doorbell rang and he whirled to face the staircase of the empty flat,

"SHUT UP!" He yelled and Charlie smiled.

"Do you just carry on talking while we're away?" John inquired.

"I don't know; how often are you away?" Sherlock asked and Charlie giggled. When Sherlock looked at her she rolled her eyes.

"Quite the charmer you are, shall I get that?" She asked and he nodded, bored already. John coughed to hide his chuckle as Sherlock asked them to show him the backfiring car. He stood upright and he zoomed in on the car for him as she went to stand.

"Stay here." Sherlock said and she sat back down, surprised.

"There."

"That's the one that made the noise, yes?"

"Yup. If you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one. I haven't looked properly at the body yet, they're not done, but it was a blunt instrument delivering a single blow to the back of the head.

"Both instrument and killer then miraculously vanished." Charlie said, but her tone came out rather bored. Both men looked at her and she shrugged.

"That has to be an eight at least?" John pointed out.

"No, it's a six." Charlie said and looked at Sherlock. He was frowning and she looked back at the screen to see the policeman behind John was watching the three interact with confusion, suspicion and annoyance.

"You've got two more minutes, we want to know more about the driver." He said but Sherlock simply waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh forget him, he's an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?"

"I think he's a suspect!" Interjected Carter, leaning in behind John as he walked. Sherlock leaned in.

"Pass me over." He said and Charlie smirked.

"Alright," John said and she pointed a finger at him.

"There's a mute button on your end and if this gets out of hand you will use it." She demanded and John crossed a hand over his heart, handing Carter the laptop and backing off to walk beside him.. She turned to see Sherlock staring at her in shock she quirked a brow and looked between them.

"Until your dressed properly young man I can treat you however I want." She said and he smirked.

"Really? Please explain how you would do that." He taunted and she leaned closer, loving the widening of his eyes for a fraction of a second before tilting towards his ear.

"Oh Shirley, that's not appropriate conversation for these fine upstanding officers." She said and his eyes flew wide again. She looked down at the sheet again and smiled, flicking a stray piece of hair out of her face as she winked at him. A cough brought them back to the present and she shook herself.

"Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness why would he then call the police and consult a detective? Fair play?" She asked pointedly at the Carter who scowled.

"He's trying to be clever." He replied gruffly,

"It's over-confidence."

She rolled her eyes and saw Sherlock do the same, to John's great amusement. The pair smirked over Carter's shoulder.

"Did you see him? Morbidly obese, the undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own….the right sleeve of an internet porn addict…" Charlie sniggered, then pulled a face. Glancing at Sherlock and then John worriedly.

"I hope there's some porn on your laptop John or else I'm going to start locking my room and the bathroom doors." She said sternly, causing the army veteran to blush and cough.

"You're safe." Sherlock said and she quirked a brow at him.

"And the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition, low self-esteem, tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy and you think he's an audacious criminal mastermind?" The latter part of Sherlock's showing off was marred slightly by his sarcastic laugh. Charlie shook her ehad and pinched her nose. He then turned and revealed said man directly behind him. Charlie grimaced apologetically at the poor man who looked deeply worried.

"Don't worry this is just stupid." Sherlock attempted to console the man.

"What did you say? Heart what?" He asked but Sherlock ignored him.

"Go to the stream." Charlie said and Sherlock frowned.

"I was going to say that." He whined and she chuckled.

"What's in the stream?" Carter asked.

"Go and see." The pair said just as Mrs Hudson ran up the stairs flanked by two suited men.

"Sherlock! You weren't answering your doorbell!" She complained and she took in their state of dress with a stern expression.

"Aunty Em… stop worrying would you." Charlie said and stood. She immediately regretted it when one of the men took her arm. She yanked it away and snarled at him.

"His room is out back, get him some clothes." He said to his partner and turned to her.

"You best get dressed." He said and she frowned but moved to obey.

"Who the hell are you?" She demanded as she passed but he ignored her.

"Sherlock? What's going on?"

One of the suited men slammed the laptop shut and she could almost feel John bristling on the other end. Shaking her head she walked to her room and got dressed quickly, a black, high waisted skirt, puffy white top which she tucked into the waist band and a pair of ankle boot. She brushed her hair and went back to the living room to see Sherlock still wrapped in his sheet. She rolled her eyes.

"You coming?" She asked and he smirked. Another eye roll.

"Men." She muttered disgustedly. She walked to her coat peg and grabbed her cloak, pulling the hood up over her head and walked down the stairs and into the cab, Sherlock right behind her… still in his blasted sheet.

Having been driven across London and ushered into the doors of Buckingham palace of all places, Charlie and Sherlock with expressions nonchalance and a little confusion on her part, following their guide who gestured grandly into a brightly lit room with many windows before leaving. And it was there they sat and waited, on an extravagantly embroidered sofa, for John, where Charlie couldn't help but play with the tassels. Before them on a table of similarly extravagant proportions were his clothes, folded neatly with his expensive leather shoes resting atop them. A few moments later John did arrive and he took in the lunacy of the situation and struggled not to laugh. She could see it. Whereas Sherlock himself was seated in the middle of the palace wearing only a white bed sheet over his birthday suit, Charlie looked like a female monk stepped out of history. The black cloak she had taken from the theatre was wrapped around her, shielding her body from view and mixing with the black of her skirt, besides her flaming red hair there was probably no hint of colour anywhere. Yin and Yang in Buckingham Palace. The pair turned to look over and John gestured about him, a questioning look in his eyes. Sherlock sighed and shrugged, the sheet rustling about him as he did so. Slowly, he walked over to sit with them, Charlie was once again stuck between the two with Sherlock to her left and John to her right. They sat in silence for a moment before John turned to look at Sherlock.

"Are you wearing any pants?" He questioned after a moment. Sherlock didn't even look at him, or her.

"No."

"Okay." She felt his gaze on her and turned to look at him. He was struggling with the instinctive laughter and she frowned playfully. She nodded slowly and looked around her again; bitting the inside of her check in an effort not to follow his suit. They both looked over to Sherlock and finally, en masse, the three burst out laughing.

"We're at Buckingham palace…right." John spoke first, clearing his throat.

"I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ash tray."

Charlie lost it and her peals of laughter rang through the palace before slouching back into the softness of the couch. Sherlock relaxed as well and the trio sat back, Charlie could feel Sherlock's leg pressed against hers through the cotton and cloak and swallowed the impulse to tuck a stray piece of his hair behind his ear. The look on his face would be momentarily priceless but afterwards would be awkward as hell.

"What are we doing here Sherlock? Seriously?" She asked when she calmed down, thanks to that delightful tibit.

"I don't know." He replied, looking over.

"Are we here to see the Queen?" She suggested, looking around. Mycroft Holmes rounded the corner, as well dressed as ever. Sherlock smirked as he spoke.

"Oh, apparently yes." He remarked and she bit her lip hard to stem her giggles.

"Just once can the three of you behave like grown-ups?" Mycroft asked and she sat up affronted.

"Mycroft, I would have you know that there are rare occasions when we do in fact act like respectable citizens of London… just not while we're in Buckingham Palace and he…" She indicated Sherlock with a thumb.

"Is dressed in nothing but a sheet."

"And you look like a nun." Sherlock retorted and she grinned.

"But of course, I must please the masses with my infamous costume. I'm surprised you didn't think to bring the deer stalker Shirley." She teased making him frown. Mycroft coughed and they settled down again.

"Although I must admit thought this had something to do with you, nobody else would send a bloody helicopter." She remarked after a slight pause. Mycroft frowned.

"I was in the middle of a case Mycroft." Sherlock moaned and his older brother shrugged.

"What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report, bit obvious surely?" He pointed out and Charlie tried to cover her shock. She had forgotten what is was like being in the same room at the Holmes brothers, a bit of a mind fuck yet the most stimulating thing she'd done in weeks.

"Transparent." Sherlock answered. Mycroft turned to her now and waited.

"And to you?" He asked and she began to twirl a piece of hair around her finger. She really should think of getting it cut, it was getting far too long. Finally she shrugged.

"Fairly simple. I suppose it could have been nice if we'd been able to see the body, just to confirm but I have my theory… the right one." She said confidently. Sherlock smiled and his brother nodded.

"Time to move on then." He cleared his throat and presented Sherlock with his clothing. Sherlock just looked at it.

"We are in Buckingham Palace, at the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on." His voice was firm.

"What for?" His response was childish and abrupt. Charlie gave him a disapproving glare which he ignored.

"Your client." Mycroft said pointedly, making Charlie giggle. Sherlock stood.

"And my client is?" He demanded just as a sandy haired man rounded the corner and approached them.

"Illustrious, in the extreme. And remaining, I have to inform you, entirely anonymous."

He took in the three before him, his expression fairly unimpressed. Charlie scowled. Just because he answered the queen di not mean he had the right to look down on her patriotism flew out the gilded window at this point and she sneered back, showing him how unimpressed she was with what she saw. He stepped back a little. She smiled.

"Mycroft." He smiled. Mycroft stepped forwards, hand extended.

"Harry. May I just apologise for the state of my little brother."

"A full-time occupation, I imagine."

"Ah, the Miss Charlotte Myers, Mycroft has also told me much about you." He said and extended his hand, which was at odds with his previous standing. In the end she stood and shook his hand.

"Soon to be two, I presume?" He remarked and she quirked a brow at him. She looked over at Mycroft and mouthed two sweetly framed words that made him pale a little before sitting once more.

"Yes." She answered simply.

"Congratulations, and this must be Dr John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers?"

John straightened slightly.

"Hello, yes." He held out his hand to shake.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog."

"Your employer?" John asked slowly.

"They particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch."

"Thank you." He gave a pointed look to Sherlock, who rolled his eyes once more. Finally, Harry turned to the tallest of the three.

"And Mr Holmes the younger, you look taller in your photographs." He said

"I take the precaution of a good coat and short friends." He started walking away as Charlie and John processed this comment,

"Mycroft I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases both ends is too much work. Good morning." He replied and began to strut towards the door. Mycroft, deeply unimpressed at his brother's behaviour, pressed his foot onto the part of Sherlock's sheet that was trailing onto the floor. In a spectacular feat of dexterity Sherlock managed to catch the sheet before his revelation became too shocking. Charlie managed a quick glance at a quite attractive butt before John caught her eyes and she flushed. He chuckled and she smiled.

"What, can't I enjoy a nice view?" She asked and he shrugged.

"I don't bat for that team but I have no problems with you looking Charlie." He said and she winked. She went back to staring and relaxed into the settee.

"This is a matter of national importance, Grow up!" Mycroft commanded, his foot still on the sheet. Sherlock was getting frustrated now.

"Get off my sheet." He demanded.

"Or what?" Demanded Mycroft, raising his eyebrows. Charlie smirked and waited.

"Or I'll just walk away." Sherlock said brazenly. Charlie's eyes widened as she watched.

"I'll let you." Retorted Mycroft, daring his little brother to try.

"Please Sherlock, go for gold." Charlie said and the room fell silent. Both Holmes turning to look at her. She grinned and sat up from where she lazed on the couch.

"A naked Sherlock Holmes through Buckingham Palace, completes my sense of patriotism to the core and gives John something interesting to right about on his blog plus..." She paused lewdly and quirked a brow. They got the picture.

"Boys, Charlie, please. Not here." Mycroft begged and Charlie patted the sofa next to her.

"Sherlock come here." She said and Sherlock took a small step back towards them then stopped. The room was a little shocked. He looked smugly at Mycroft.

"Who. Is. My. Client?" He asked and Charlie coughed and indicated where they were.

"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake put your clothes on!" Mycroft said and Charlie began to laugh as Sherlock stalked back to where they sat and planted himself beside her.

"Close your eyes." He ordered and she smiled.

After a few minutes Sherlock was once again clothed respectively and now sat opposite his brother, one leg crossed casually over the other. A tea tray had been laid out before them and Charlie who had long ago stopped pretending she wasn't watching smiled at Sherlock as he listened to his brother.

"Here Charlie, I know your preferences." He said and she took the offered cup from Mycroft's fingers before sipping it cautiously. It was delicious. She smiled, a genuine smile that Mycroft returned.

"Every time I drink one of your brother's I'm afraid he's put something in it… it's nice to have no surprises in your tea." She said and Mycroft covered his eyes with a free hand.

"Sherlock," He muttered and said Holmes frowned.

"I'm innocent until proven guilty." He quoted and Charlie shook her head.

'Harry' finally spoke.

"My employer has…a problem."

Mycroft nodded.

"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen."

"Why?" Sherlock said sharply,

"We have a police force of sorts, even a marginally secret service. Why come to me?"

Mycroft glared evenly as his companion spoke.

"People do come to you for help don't they Mr Holmes?" Harry said evenly and Sherlock paused in mock thought.

"Not to date anyone with a navy." He remarked tartly and Charlie sipped her tea in order to avoid a sarcastic comment of her own

"This is a matter of the highest security and therefore of trust." Mycroft said cautiously and Charlie perked up a small bit.

"You don't trust your own secret service?" John asked, frowning slightly. Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"Naturally not, they all spy on people for money." He said as though it were obvious and Charlie nodded.

"Try your family, then you'll have something to complain about." She said tartly before returning to her tea cup as eyes fell on her.

"I do think we have a timetable." Mycroft started and set down his teacup as Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

"By all means please continue, this is fascinating." Charlie said.

"Yes, of course." He cleared his throat as he pulled a photograph out of his briefcase and handed it over.

"What do you know about this woman?" Sherlock looked at it and then Charlie whose eye widened a fraction, it showed a rather pretty woman and her female intuition began to spark almost immediately.

"Nothing whatsoever." Sherlock said.

"Then you should be paying more attention. She's been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist, by having an affair with both participants separately." Mycroft said and Charlie quirked a brow.

"Well she gets around." She said quietly and smirked as the men had another look at the photo. Sherlock held the photo for John to look at.

"You know I don't concern myself with trivia. Who is she?" He looked up at his brother.

"Irene Adler, professionally known as The Woman." Charlie frowned and looked at Mycroft.

"Professionally?" She asked and he grimaced.

"There are many names for what she does. She prefers 'dominatrix'." He said and she couldn't help it, she giggled. She received an interested look from Mycroft and a curious expression from Sherlock. She waved it off and put on a polite face.

"Dominatrix…" Sherlock spoke lowly.

"Don't be alarmed, it's to do with sex." Mycroft looked rather self-satisfied. Charlie thought it an odd comment but wisely said nothing as Sherlock's pride finally got the better of him.

"Sex doesn't alarm me." He said and Charlie covertly placed her hand on his leg. It went unnoticed by the older Holmes who's smirk made her want to smack him, despite the wonderful tea he served.

"How would you know?" He asked smugly and Charlie stiffened. That didn't go unnoticed by the older Holmes.

"Are you alright Charlie?" He asked and she smiled thinly.

"Back pain." She muttered and she felt the muscles of Sherlock's leg tense under her palm and squeezed lightly. This conversation had gone from awkward to kingdom of gauche in under a second. She lowered her gaze to her lap. She spoke, attempting to sway attention away from Sherlock who looked as close to embarrassed as he could get.

"So…whips and leather eh?" She asked and John snorted. Mycroft nodded.

"Yes, she provides, shall we say, recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it. These are all from her website…" He said and handed over an envelope which Sherlock promptly opened. There were more pictures inside. They were of the same woman, this Irene Adler. In these photos she was beautiful and mysterious, in revealing, or no, clothing and positioned erotic poses, posing with a riding crop and looking at the camera with 'come hither' eyes. Charlie decided in that moment that she did not like her. There was something in those eyes dark brown eye that made her shiver, not to mention feel somewhat fat. Adler quite obviously had never been pregnant.

"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs?" Sherlock said after a slight pause.

"You're very quick Mr Holmes." Harry said and Charlie smirked.

"It's hardly that difficult to guess. The general rule in society today is photographs or it didn't happen. The only reason to be truly afraid of this woman is if she had photographs that might make it into the wrong hands." Sherlock started and Charlie smiled thinly.

"That or a recorded phone call, but she seems to be a more hands-on type of girl." Charlie finished and gazed at one photo in particular with open contempt.

"Photographs of whom?" He questioned. Mycroft and Harry looked at each other and back to Sherlock.

"A person of significance to my employer." He said delicately,

"We'd prefer not to say any more at this time."

John frowned and cleared his throat.

"You can't tell us anything?"

They all turned expectantly to Mycroft, who took a deep breath.

"I can tell you it's a young person. A young, female person." He said and Charlie bit her lip and carefully placed her tea cup down.

"How many photographs?" Sherlock asked.

"A considerable number, apparently."

"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?" Charlie asked and Mycroft nodded.

"Yes they do."

"And I'm assuming they appear in a number of compromising scenarios?" John's teacup was frozen half way to his lips as he watched the exchange. He was more than a little flushed but had managed not to embarrass himself so far.

"An imaginative range, we are assured."

"I'll bet…" John muttered and Charlie winked at him covertly,

"Sorry."

"John you might want to put that cup back on the saucer now."

He did so with a 'clink'.

"Can you help us Mr Holmes?" Harry asked and Sherlock had a look in his eye that spelt 'mock the hell out of these people'.

"How?" He asked innocently.

"Will you take the case?" Mycroft pushed and Charlie looked over at Sherlock.

"What case? Pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, know when you are beaten." He reached back to where his coat was resting on the sofa back.

"She doesn't want anything." Spoke Mycroft sharply. Charlie froze and waited.

"She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour."

There was a moment's silence and Sherlock looked at Charlie. She nodded minutely. There was only one real reason a woman told someone about delicate information but refused to sell, okay maybe two, but right now she was focusing on just one.

"Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix, ooh this is getting rather fun isn't it?" Sherlock said and Charlie heard something strange in his voice, or maybe she put it there.

"Certainly a step up from a chubby man fainting in the kitchen." John said and she nodded. Sherlock looked at his brother.

"Hmm. Where is she?" He asked.

"In London, currently. She's staying…" He began but Sherlock was officially done.

"Text me the details." He took Charlie's elbow and gently pulled her upright before grabbing his coat.

"I'll be in touch by the end of the day." He said.

"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" Mycroft asked and Sherlock turned around as he buttoned his trademark jacket.

"No, I think I'll have the photographs." He said smugly and Charlie intuition screamed at her that this was not going to end well. He stared evenly at the sandy haired man who spoke.

"One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think." He said and Charlie smiled. Sherlock cast a glance over the man's attire and both John sighed. He was blatantly about to…

"I'll need some equipment of course." He said.

"Anything you need, I'll have it set over." Harry replied.

"Can I have a box of matches?"

"I'm sorry?" The man looked immensely confused…as did Charlie and John.

"Or your cigarette lighter, either will do." He held out a hand.

"I don't smoke."

"No I know you don't but your employer does." He said and Charlie gave a little round of applause. John frowned and looked at Sherlock warningly. Mycroft simply smiled as he rolled his eyes.

"We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact Mr Holmes." He spoke, handing over the lighter.

"I'm not the commonwealth." Sherlock shook his head, snatching up the lighter.

"And that's as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you." John said and nodded goodbye to the men. Charlie pulled her hood up, effectively covering the red hair she needed to get cut before waving goodbye. Sherlock caught her arm and looped it through his, catching her by surprise.

"Work with me." He said and she nodded. He was obviously still smarting from Mycroft's comment and she smirked. He saw it and his shoulder's slump the smallest bit. She regretted the expression almost immediately.

"Please don't." He muttered and she looked up at him. She smiled up at him.

"Sherlock, I wouldn't dare." She said seriously and he looked at her curiously. Whatever he saw in her face convinced him of something and he grinned back at his brother.

"Laters!" Called Sherlock to the palace at large as they rounded the corner and left the enormous building.

Woop! Done and dusted. That was one of the best cenes in the series, I loved the sheet and I think it will come up in my stories more often now. Please review it makes me so happy. Ciao!