Part 2! I'm usually a very modest person but I am very proud of this chapter!
Three weeks later Sherlock got a tip-off that the murderer was hiding out at a fancy police dress party, planning to strike again. This man had outwitted Sherlock so many times that he needed to go to this party.
So Sherlock pulled his best suit out of his closet and texted for a couple of the fastest policemen to come to the party.
Three hours later and Sherlock was still standing in the room and the murderer was nowhere to be found. Growing tetchy, Sherlock very nearly snapped when someone tapped him on the shoulder. "May I have this dance?"
He knew that voice. He turned to find the owner standing in front of him, in a slinky strapless black dress that came to her knees.
"Of course, darling." He placed a false accent and let Irene lead him into the center of the room. "Why are you here?" he asked.
"John told me you needed my help." She cocked her head slightly. "Or did he do that on his own?"
"I don't need your help." he said, teeth gritted.
"Of course you don't." She smiled. "So that's why you've been standing here for three hours and it's been the guy standing behind you the whole time."
Despite himself, Sherlock turned and Irene laughed at him. "Didn't think you'd actually fall for it." Sherlock realized he'd never heard her actually laugh before. It was the most brilliant thing he'd ever heard. He stared down at her with something like amazement, but she didn't see. "Do you know how to tango?"
"Of course I do." he scoffed. It was true. His brother's group- he, Mycroft, Irene (not Adler, no, it couldn't be), and Mycroft's then girlfriend Alice had won the tango contest at his high school.
"Come on." She dragged him off. Sherlock decided to put on a show.
"No, no, I don't want to tango, dear, why don't we get a drink?"
"Aw, please, honey?" She turned to face him with pleading eyes. "Just one more, I promise. It would make me so happy." Sherlock wasn't sure, but he almost thought she was making Bambi eyes at him.
He sighed. "Fine. One more." She giggled and he allowed her to drag him off. He could feel everyone's eyes on them.
She placed her arms around his neck and they began to dance. Sherlock couldn't shake off the feeling that he'd done this before.
"Don't look know," she hissed, "but your man is right behind you."
He glanced up and caught his eye. Realization dawned over the dancer's face and Sherlock quickly looked away. "Told you not to look." Irene smirked. Sherlock gritted his teeth but said nothing.
The dance ended and everyone cheered. The other male dancer broke away from his partner and ran. Sherlock hesitated a moment too long before running after him. "Lestrade!" A moment later the police detective followed him.
Twenty minutes later Sherlock and Lestrade returned to the party, out of breath and furious. "We lost him again." Sally guessed. "Nice work, Freak." She smirked and walked away.
Irene hurried over to him. "You okay?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
"No. We lost him."
"Well, you may have lost the man, but we caught your murderer." Sherlock looked at her in confusion. She sighed. "The man wasn't the murderer. It was his dance partner. He's been leading you away from her. When he saw you, he panicked. She told him to lead you away, figuring she'd escape. I followed her." she added proudly. "She panicked and I chased her right to Scotland Yard." Irene grinned.
"You fooled me." Sherlock said, panting.
She laughed, hard, a laugh that Sherlock would remember for the rest of his days. "It's not hard, Holmes. It isn't hard at all." She kissed his cheek and walked away, still laughing.
Sherlock returned home that night still confused. "Saw you caught the guy." Watson came out of his room, rubbing a towel in his hair. "You okay?"
Sherlock's phone vibrated. Until next time. I.
"Yes." He grabbed a nicotine patch.
Watson shrugged. As he retreated into his room, he called, "Did you have a nice night?"
Sherlock touched his cheek lightly. "Yes." he said softly. "Yes, I did."
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