Disclaimer- Sherlock and Hustle are not mine. Still.
A/N Sorry it's been a while. Hope you enjoy...
They departed to the hotel in different taxis but arrived at the same time. Mickey led the way into the foyer to be greeted by the very apologetic hotel manager;
"Mr. Stone, I'm so sorry about this. We do not for a second believe that you left the room in this...condition. However, as I said on the phone, we have yet to inform the police..."
"Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock said, suddenly producing a badge and flashing it quickly but confidently, in front of the managers face, "I hope you understand that Mr. Stone wants this dealt with as quickly as possible so he called me. My colleague," he gestured to John, "and I will take it from here. Of course, we'll keep you informed; you may wish to assess your hotel security."
The manager seemed thrown for a moment, "Erm...yes, of course, I..."
Mickey had also been caught off guard by Sherlock but he was so used to improvising that he composed himself swiftly, "Sorry, Mr. Hood, but this incident isn't, unfortunately, isolated. My offices were vandalised last week so I thought it best to contact the police straight away. I trust that this is ok?"
"Erm...well, yes," Mr Hood glanced between Mickey and Sherlock, "I shall leave you to it then. We left the room as it was and there is a security guard outside your door- I'll let him know you're on your way up. Once again, I can only apologise and we will indeed be reassessing our security."
"We will keep you informed," Sherlock repeated.
"Right, yes." Mr Hood turned to address just Mickey, "We have other rooms available for you to move into if necessary. Please let us know if you require anything else."
"Thank you," Mickey said, sincerely.
They all began to make their way to the lift leaving the hotel manager, looking and feeling somewhat rejected, behind them. Once in the lift, Emma broke the silence; "What was that about? DI Lestrade?" she asked Sherlock.
"Yes, well, given your line of work, I presumed that informing the real police wouldn't be ideal but not informing the police would appear suspicious to the hotel; I solved the problem," Sherlock drawled.
"Hmm...That was nice of you," Mickey said, flatly. Truth be told, he did have to grudgingly accept that Sherlock had indeed made things easier for them, albeit by once again acting in a manner that raised questions.
"Bit convenient that you had a badge..." Ash began.
"Yeah, where did you get that?" Sean asked, cutting in and pointing at the badge in Sherlock's hand.
"He stole it," John said, unimpressed, shooting a glare in his friend's direction.
"You stole a police badge?" Sean said, with a hint of awe.
Sherlock ignored Sean and just shrugged at John, "He was being annoying."
John rolled his eyes. "Sherlock, you're annoying."
"You stole a police badge?" Sean repeated.
"Don't you be getting any ideas," Ash said firmly.
Sherlock reached into his pocket and produced another badge; he held it out to Sean, "Here, you can be DS Evan's if you like."
Sean took the badge eagerly, "Ah, thanks."
"Er, I'll have that," Ash said, taking the badge.
"Ash," Sean whined.
"You are not going around flashing stolen police badges," Ash told him.
"Ash is right, Sean," Emma agreed. She gave Sherlock a disapproving glance.
"He gets to," Sean said, nodding towards Sherlock.
John snorted, "Believe me; you don't want to use him as an example."
"Says the man who carries a stolen gun," Sherlock said as the lift doors opened. He was the only one who moved though; everyone else had turned to face John in various states of surprise.
"Sherlock!" John rubbed his face with his hands, "I do not have a gun, ok?" he told Mickey and his crew firmly, "He's...kidding. Shall we go." John stepped out of the lift and followed Sherlock down the corridor.
"Kidding? Not really funny," Sean mumbled, before he too left the lift.
"You owe us a holiday after this," Emma told Mickey as she walked past him.
"It would be nice to know what 'this' is," Ash pointed out as he followed Emma.
Mickey tilted his head back and sighed only to notice Albert had not moved and was looking at him intently, "I know that this is..."
"Michael, I'm not here to tell you what to do anymore..."
"But..." Mickey said and Albert smiled.
"Don't let intrigue rule your head." With that, Albert left the lift. Mickey caught the door as it went to close, took a breath and then went to join the others.
The hotel room was a mess; table's tipped upside down with everything that stood on them strewn across the floor and all the vases and lamps had been smashed and glass was all over the sofas which had been stripped of their cushions.
"Oh, lovely," Emma said, scowling as she looked around the room.
"Has anything been taken?" Sean asked.
"We'll have to check," Ash stated.
"Don't bother," Sherlock said. He was walking around the room in the same way he would a crime scene, "Nothing has been taken. This is just a message."
"A message?" Mickey questioned from the doorway.
Sherlock suddenly stopped moving and focused his attention on a partition wall, "Oh yes, this is definitely a message."
"What are you looking at?" John asked as he navigated the cluttered floor to stand beside Sherlock. Pinned onto the wall were two photographs; one of a beaten man tied to chair and the other of Scotland Yard. Above the photographs were written the words;
Money. Murder. Mayhem. Match made in heaven or hell? M
...