(AN/ I'M BAAAAAACK! D'you miss me? Sorry I've been AWOL. I've had a lot on my plate. After witnessing my fanfictions slowly deteriorate, I gained solace in bottles of red wine and discovered afterward, that you guys, my readers, deserve more. So here I am, edging out another chapter for you. Please, sit back, read, and enjoy.)
Velvetine Blood
Three weeks since Sherlock's re-appearance, London was mute with the blur of heavy snow. Electrical lines fought hard and telephone lines were already dying by the freak weather shows. Sunlight struggled to break through the thick tonal clouds so dense with snow and depression. Baker Street was cornered off from the public due to the severe black ice and thick snow warnings. Inside 221B, the desolation was stronger and thicker than the roughest parts of London. Mrs Hudson buzzed around her living area with golden decorations to ring in the New Year alone whereas John patiently sat in her kitchenette with a warm cup of coffee in his grip. He hadn't heard or seen from his sister in almost a month which brewed a worried mix of fear and fire in his stomach. Had something happened to her or had she just packed up and left like she usually seemed to do when things got hard? Questions like these ate at him ever since the loss of his best friend, Sherlock Holmes. New doubts were sown every morning when his eyes opened from his light and virtually non-existant slumber aside his new accomplice, Mary Morstan. Doubts accompanied nightmares which were often paired with deep dehydration periods which would come and go whenever they pleased. Mary would often wake to a warm puddle in the bed and John gasping for fresh air, his lips drawn back over his gums. His whole body would throb beside her, at first, scaring her witless. Fearing for John, she suggested that her boyfriend get back into a routine, much like what he had before Moriarty tore it from him.
"Mrs Hudson, I best be off! We'll see you tonight?!" shouted John in the politest manner he could muster. There was rustles from the living room followed by sharp heel clicks,
"That you off then? Well you have a nice day. Careful, it's slippery out there today. Was cold last night, ice and all..." Mrs Hudson slivered off in her speech as John slipped his jacket on, "Very slippery. It was on the news this morning; hospitals are overrun with broken hips and ankles-" John held up a hand,
"Mrs Hudson, I'll be alright. I'll keep to gritted paths and get a cab at the main road. You needn't worry," Mrs Hudson chuckled into her hands and escorted John to the front door,
"Mind and text, you know, if-". John shook his head and put a hand onto her shoulder, "Right. Of course. I'm being silly" a smile feigned her lips and John nodded,
"I'll give you a ring when we are heading over. Keep safe." He kissed her cheek and she returned with a touch on the shoulder.
John stepped hastily up the gritted path to the main road which had been slowed to almost a complete halt. With a 'tut' on his tongue and a vibrate in his pocket, he reached to answer his notification which appeared to be an incoming call from Victoria. With a perplexed expression, John answered,
"You're alive!" He chuckled to himself, looking up to the brewing, white sky,
"Yes, I've just been busy. Look, John, you have to listen to me-" Victoria rushed her words as though running or just completed a tiresome task,
"Wait, wait, wait- you go off the radar for a month and you're asking me a favour? What if I needed a favour when you were AWOL?" quizzed John, only to recieve a sigh from his sister, "What?! I'm just saying!" He laughed and Victoria let out a groan,
"John! Listen! Your plans tonight- you have to cancel them. You're needed-"
"Woah-haha. No. I don't ruddy well think so. I've made plans with Mrs Hudson, no. I'm not cancelling my New Year plans so you can drag me to a stupid get-together with Mycroft-bloody-Holmes. No-"
"John. I'm inviting you, and apparently Mrs Hudson, to a Royal Gala. This is not some 'stupid get-together' with Mycroft. You've been invited, through me, by His Royal Highness, Duke Of Cambridge. And you are not going to turn him down" she ordered, "Tell Mrs Hudson. I have to go. A car will pick you up at eight o'clock. I have to dash-"
"Vic- the weather! Baker Street's close-" and with that, the line connecting his sister, went dead. John grit his teeth and turned abruptly on his heels back to 221B.
Gold, white and cream glistened throughout the banquet hall as the clock grew nearer to seven o'clock. Lush rosewood tables were quilted with the finest white cotton and weighed down with grand silver candelabras which looked like they had been dipped in liquid moonlight. The finest china was laid in each chair placement topped with delicately written namecards which had been scribed with the finest ebony ink on the market. Crisp white linen cards accentuated the crisp words which lay fine in black.
Slender, cream candles flickered with an amber glow as guests entered the hall. Gowns were gracing down the newly vacuumed Abercrombrie carpeted steps into the majestic room. Guest were greeted with tall flutes of champagne and were escorted to their seats. Slowly, the room filled and was quickly alive with the buzz of polite conversation.
Mycroft Holmes graced the room with his presence in a navy suit with silver braiding at the edges with a matching glistening tie just after the clock struck eight. During his polite conversations, he made a bee-line for his seat in the front left corner of the room beside the Mayor of London and the head Chancellor of the city. He did not sit, but buzzed around his table, ensuring every personality at his table was satisfied. Shortly following behind after a short drive, Doctor Watson arrived in his finest black suit and cream button-down. Mary took place on one arm in a simple, elegant golden, dazzling gown and Mrs Hudson stood timidly on the other arm, clad in a simplistic violet two peice shirt and jacket which she recieved as a Christmas present from John and Mary. Mycroft made his way over to the additional guest,
"John, you were told only Mrs Hudson..." eagerly Mycroft said, panicking at the thought of having to squeeze another chair into Victoria's table. Mary held her hand up and smiled at the man of nervous disposition,
"It's p-perfectly alright. I'll take a seat at the bar. I've already eaten tonight."
Mycroft lifted his head in acceptance and with a peck to John's cheek, Mary made her way flawlessly over to the tall bar stools. John slightly shrugged then grinned when Victoria made her way to his side,
"So glad you could make it, John. Oh, Mary too! Lovely," her voice shuddered as though she feared for them,
"Is there a problem?" Mycroft chuckled whilst looking around warily still. His nerves hid under his laughter and ended when Victoria gave him a firm headshake.
Victoria took Mrs Hudson's arm and started to escort them to their table when a sudden gunshot was heard behind them,
"Oh goodness!" Mrs Hudson hurried alone to her chair and indicated for Mary to join her. Frantic screams and panic filled the room from the polished guests before another shot was heard,
"Everybody, sit down!" The voice slowly and confidently demanded. With tension running high within the function hall, world leaders and their parlimentary partners returned to their seats and apprehensively tucked themselves in. The room silenced as the voice started to move, "Stay. Quiet." the voice seemed to tinkle and glisten. The voice moved to the make-shift stage for all to see. A shapely body clad in sapphie rhinestones and diamonds in the form of a strappy gown took to the stage. The body turned and John took in a deep breath. He put his hand to Victoria's shoulder,
"It's The Woman..." he gasped.
With a cunning smile on her porcelain face and her eyes on John, she breathed into the microphone, "Hello, boys."
The room was stunned. John felt attacked and victimized. His whole past came rushing back. A Scandal In Belgravia. Her beheading. How could she be standing before him, mocking him infront of near one hundred Parliament members? "Naughty, naughty, naughty, bad, bad, bad, Holmes Boy's. Been very naughty." her smile glimmered in the candlelight and gave an eerie chill to the room. Mycroft put his head into his hands to avoid the stern glares from his colleagues, "Mr Holmes saved my life." She pouted and looked straight at Victoria, "Mr Sherlock Holmes saved my pathetic little life. But I'm back. To bring him back to you, John Watson." John's mouth was gaping and his eyes were beginning to water. He turned to look at Mary and Mrs Hudson with pleading eyes,
"Stop it" John huffed, "STOP IT! YOU ARE DEAD! YOU DIED!" He yelled and stretched out his arms, "Stop it- Victoria, what's going on? What?"
Victoria stepped nearer to John and made eye-contact with Irene Adler,
"Say a word and I will blow up every floor of this building from the top to the bottom." She hissed and stared out John from the stage. Victoria's view flickered to Mycroft who was staring out a large window at the back of the room but then slowly returned his view to her. His eyes seemed serious but he gently nodded and returned to staring out the window,
"Jim Moriarty sends you his love, John. Mrs Hudson, you too" winked Irene. Victoria placed her arm around John, who suddenly gripped onto her shoulders tightly. She put her other arm around him, as though to protect him. An icy draught entered the room and with a sharp glance out of the opened window, Victoria's eyes wandered in the darkness until it was over. John moved in her arms and turned to face the open window. In the darkness, his eyes observed the figure's shoulders jerk and watched as the shadowed curls flicked with the jerk. John screwed up his eyes in acceptance.
A dubbed whistle struck everybody's ears and Irene Adler stood stunned for a moment, arms at her sides and her eyes wide, "Sherlock." her lips whispered. Her legs swayed and she collapsed onto her knees before falling completely over onto her back. The pristine white painted wall behind the stage dribbled with blood and segments of brain matter. The guests of the gala gasped, open mothed and eyes matching Irene's.
The hour neared twelve and a new year was about to begin. The police and forensics were immediately called to the scene where Irene Adler made her appearance. Many people were tabbed for interviews outside of the building which was now closed off to the public. Mary, John and Mrs Hudson shortly left the scene and made their way back home to Baker Street. They strolled on the cleared paths via the Thames. Mary tightly held John's hand and frequently brought it to her lips to comfort him, "John, I'm not sure what to say..." Mrs Hudson mumbled, "Get you back and get you some nice tea. Some warm pyjamas and you two can have my spare room." Mrs Hudson tried her best but John just blocked out what he didn't need to hear,
"I'm sure he was going to tell you, John..." Mary whispered in her softest voice to comfort him. Everything buzzed around John's head. Nothing about the night made sense.
It wasn't long before Victoria caught up with her brother and shared a tight hug with him. He shook furiously in her arms and almost sobbed, "Did you know he was back?"
"John, I-" Victoria sighed and tightened her grip around John, "he thought it was best to keep you out of the loop. Keep Mary and Lestrade out of danger."
(AN/ Thanks for reading. I appreciate feedback. I understand if you believe it to be pretty crap x)
