Rose stepped into the club with Sherlock. It was a bit more posh than the ones she'd gone to with her friend what seemed like a lifetime ago. Back in her original universe before the Doctor and Pete's World.
He led her over to the coat room, it was more of a large closet really. She removed her coat and hung it up. The sonic was safely tucked in a garter belt under her skirt, something she put together after the first posh assignment Mycroft sent her on.
She turned around to find Sherlock waiting for her. He was dressed exactly the same as he had been earlier that day. White button-down shirt, slacks, suit jacket, dress shoes. That was definitely not going to do.
"Frequent many clubs?" she teased.
"It's not really my-" he began.
"Area, yeah?" She laughed. "I could tell. All right."
She unbuttoned his suit jacket and began removing it.
"What're you-" he protested.
"You want to blend in? First things first. You've got to lose the jacket."
"I am quite capable of blending in on my own," he argued, but he allowed her to finish removing his jacket and hang it up.
"I don't doubt that. At least, when it comes to anything more…" she trailed off catching his gaze.
"More what?"
"Straight laced, but this…it's a bit different."
"For instance?"
"Well, for instance your shirt." She unbuttoned his right cuff and rolled the sleeve up a bit. He tensed at their close contact. She glanced at him as she took his other arm to roll that sleeve up a bit. His eyes were wide and completely trained on her, reminding her of a trapped animal, which, reminded her of the Doctor and then she was smiling, a bit cheeky because it was just too hard not to. "There now." She released his arm.
"Yes. Well…" he said, trailing off as she stepped closer.
"And now a bit of this…" She reached up and ran her hands through his hair, ruffling it. He was more than a bit taller than her and even in heels she had to reach up, which meant leaning close to him. She caught his gaze and took in the way he was completely focused on her, as if she were the only thing in the entire universe, which brought out that cheeky grin again. She felt his hand brush her back and decided to end things before they became complicated. They were at a club, after all, to catch a serial killer. She stepped back and gave him a once over. "Much better."
He blinked and then seemed to regain control of himself.
"Yes. Right," he replied. "Um…thank you."
"Don't mention it," she said, giving him a smile as she took his arm.
She caught the sideways glances he shot her as they walked out of the coat room and made their way across the club and up to the bar. She almost laughed at the look on his face, which seemed to be a mixture of curiosity and confusion. If he hadn't told her he hadn't been on a date before she would've guessed it by then.
She ordered a cosmo and caught the glance Sherlock shot her. Raised eyebrow and all.
"Blending in," she replied with a shrug. He ordered bourbon. "So," she said, glancing around the room. "We're looking for a woman wearing six inch heels." She estimated there were at least twenty women fitting that description.
"We can't be certain she'll be wearing the same shoes," he replied.
"Brilliant. Then all we have to go on is that the killer's a woman."
"I wouldn't say that."
She glanced at him. He seemed a bit more smug than normal, which told her that he knew something she didn't.
"What would you say then?" she asked.
"Oh, come now, you were at the crime scene too. We both saw the cuff marks."
He really enjoyed the fact that he knew something she didn't and although she knew that would annoy most people she was used to it with the Doctor. She gave him a smile.
"And?" He paused and he seemed confused, as if he wasn't sure why she was smiling. "Go on, tell me," she coaxed.
"And…" his mind seemed to snap back into place, the smugness returned. "And the scuff marks told us more than the type of shoe she wore. It also told us her height, weight, and walking gate. From that I could calculate a reasonable description." Her smile broadened. He was brilliant. He returned her smile and then seemed to think better of it and shook his head instead. "We're looking for a woman in her early to late twenties; five foot seven and weighs one hundred twenty one pounds."
Rose blinked. He was more than brilliant.
"You got all that from the scuff marks on the floor?"
"It was obvious."
She might have found that rude, but she knew he wasn't intentionally being rude. To him it was obvious. All that without the help of a sonic screwdriver.
"That was brilliant," she exclaimed and she knew she was smiling like an idiot, but she couldn't help it.
He really was Sherlock Holmes.
He shot her a confused glance.
"Really?"
"Yes really. Really, really. I mean, wow, I don't know if there's a word that means more than brilliant, but if there is that's what you are."
"Genius," he replied.
Again being honest not rude, but it made her laugh. He glanced at her, drawing his brows together.
"Genius. That definitely sums you up," she said, giving him a smile.
He returned her smile seeming to realize she wasn't having fun with him. Yes, he would definitely give the Doctor a run for his money. Her cosmo arrived. She picked it up and took a drink as she gazed around the room looking for someone who fit the genius detective's description.
Standard Disclaimer.
Thank you to all my brilliant readers!
Reviews are always welcome. :)
