I forgot to put this down before but all the transcripts from the show come from arianedevere on livejournal! Bless her.
Sherlock apparently had thought of the circus when he was tossing clothes at me this afternoon because I was suddenly aware that we'd most likely snoop around back stage as we walked up to the building. Well that was if he'd found anything worth snooping about for. I was wearing black jeans and a loose black sweater. He offered me his scarf but I declined having thought ahead and took out my own scarf from my jacket pocket. It'd been too sunny earlier for it but at night it was perfect.
"No. No, I don't think so. We only booked two." John's ugly jacket was facing Sherlock and I as he lead me up the stairs. I'd started to notice he favoured walking along my injured side, pushing past people who were close by without so much as an excuse me. I found it adorable that he hung around that side but seemed uninterested in taking my hand which I was a little grateful for. I wasn't one to hold anyone's hand unless it was a wee child.
"And then I phoned back and got one for myself and Rosalyn as well. " Sherlock spoke up as we got to the top of the stairs, disappearing from my side to stand in front of the ticket booth. I came up behind John and put a hand over his shoulder to lean up to his ear.
"He can't help himself, love." I murmured into his ear. John looked back at me with disbelief as he realised I was in on it the whole time. I felt a small smile crop up on the side of my face at his expression and shrugged my apology.
"I'm Sherlock." Sherlock stuck his hand out roughly for her to shake while his eyes flickered towards me. She looked nervously at John, her eyes lingered on my hand then went back to Sherlocks. I recognised the tightening of her shoulders and narrowing of her eyes and took a step back from John, no way in hell I was getting blamed for John's shit date. That was Sherlock's honour.
"Er, hi. Sarah." She shook his hand uneasily, looking back at John for some sort of assistance. I guess he hadn't explained to her who we were or how he even got the tickets. Couldn't blame him since he'd lost his card to a chip-and-pin machine at the market. John was in a complicated situation to say the least.
"Hello." He gave her a pinched fake smile then turned and leave. John chased after him leaving this Sarah alone with me. Great. Just what I wanted.
"Rosalyn." I offered her a small smile as I checked over her. She was dressed nicely for this, had a bit of make up and it seemed heavier than usual. Her skin didn't have that oddly waxy look to it signaling she didn't often wear make up. She was looking forward to it. She liked John.
"Oh, uh it's nice to meet you." She took a step closer and I was hit with a wave of antiseptic right in the nose, he had to have met her at the clinic. She had to be a doctor or the secretary. Her hands were too smooth looking to be the cleaner.
"I take it you're Sarah from the clinic?" I tilted my head, waiting to see if she'd check over my arm and face like John always did. I was also trying to get on her good side, like John spoke highly of her all the time. She obviously liked him enough to deal with Sherlock.
"Has he talked about me?" She glanced at my arm and cheek a second then asked shyly,y picking up a piece of her hair as she looked back at John and Sherlock on the stairs.
"Oh all the time. He loves working with you." I smiled, taking the chance that she was a doctor or at least in training to become one. She let out a little giggle that made me want to smile more but it hurt to do so.
"Mind if I ask something personal, Rosalyn?" She looked back at me, more serious now. I nodded slowly, trying to gauge what the hell she'd want to ask that was so serious when she was just a giggling school girl a second ago.
"Is...what I mean to say is that...well." She looked frustrated as she tried to formulate the sentence. It was something she wasn't comfortable asking. Personal. But what could she ask me that would be that personal? She leaned closer, looking at me conspiratorially. "Are they a couple or something?" She whispered, waving a hand towards Sherlock and John. OH.
"Well I do know that John's straight. Sherlock's been single nearly all his life, so who knows with him, really? He might be a lady for all I know." I shrugged, starting to move towards them and go up the stairs. She let out a snort and followed behind me looking more easy-going now. I'd gained her confidence somehow but I wasn't sure which bit really did it. It'd easily take further analysis.
" ... while I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" John was frustrated as he yelled. Sherlock just looked like he was having a bit of fun. I cleared my throat loudly, attracting John's attention towards Sarah who was right behind him.
"Heyyy. Ready?" He looked ashamed as he rubbed the back of his neck and motioned for her to go ahead.
I continued past them, looping my good arm with Sherlock's and pulling him along. He'd have to learn some sort of social boundaries somehow. "You can't play with him like that." I scolded as we walked into a larger circular room with the middle being roped off.
"Thats an odd statement coming from you of all people." His voice was low as he cut his eyes towards mine.
"I've got experience. Theres no reason for you to disrupt his date outside of jealousy." I rolled my eyes and continued on with my admonishment.
"You're looking but you're not observing. You've got not reason to tease me outside of curiosity." He retorted quietly as he started looking around the room, I imagined he was looking for any possible traps or tips that this was definitely the smugglers we wanted. It sounded like he was doing it out of curiosity, to see how far he could push John. I felt like he'd regret it in the time to come.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not, Shirley." I smirked as I looked back at the stage, a woman dressed in traditional looking wear came out. Her face was painted white with pink to outline her nose and cheeks and charcoal along her lids.
"Avoiding the questions again, Rose?" I felt his breath drift across my exposed neck and turned ever so slightly to look at him.
"Would it bother you if I were?" I raised a brow. His face was much closer than I thought possible for the human bot that was Sherlock Holmes. I felt a hand slip down to lay flat against my stomach with quite a bit of surprise. Enough to warm my cheeks.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He smirked against my good cheek. So far I'd seen that he enjoyed his space tremendously and he wasn't fond of human contact unless it had a significant purpose. This had no purpose out of possibly exciting me and I was pretty damn sure the man was asexual or just totally shut down in his bits and pieces. It bothered me that I didn't know why he was doing this. He always had a purpose.
"You said circus. This is not a circus. Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock, this is... art. " John whispered heatedly back to Sherlock with a bit of distaste. He didn't enjoy art work obviously but it seemed she did. She was interested in the room and the stage.
"This is not their day job. " Sherlock whispered back plainly.
"No, sorry, I forgot. They're not a circus; they're a gang of international smugglers. " John sounded annoyed as he turned back to glare at Sherlock.
"Enough. Focus on your lay, John." I raised a brow as John's cheeks turned pink and he seemed to want to say something else but stopped himself. He'd had his little rant apparently. It was all the same to me, I'd snap him in half if he tried to argue with me on that.
The performance began with someone tapping out a rhythm on a drum of some kind. John looked over his shoulder at Sherlock with annoyance, like he was trying to show us how stupid this was Sherlock just quirked an eyebrow at him. The ornately costumed Chinese woman walked into the centre of the circle and looked imperiously out at us before raising her hand in the air. The drummer finished off his riff as she started to walk towards a bulky looking thing that had been covered up.
She pulled it back to reveal an antique-looking crossbow on a stand. She picked up a long thick wooden arrow with white feathers at one end and a vicious metal point at the other and showed it to the audience to alleviate foul play before she slid it into place in the crossbow. Straightening up, she pulled a single small white feather from her headdress and again showed it to the audience.
On the rear of the crossbow was a small metal cup that she gently dropped the feather into. Instantly the arrow was released and whizzed across the room, forcing my head to whip around to follow it with my eyes as it lodged into the board across the room. I felt Sherlock's hand tighten, pulling me closer as the arrow sped across which caused a smirk to drift across my face. The robot could be startled. Sarah turned to John and laughed as she put her hand dramatically over her heart.
Instrumental music began, as we applauded and a new character entered the circle. My eyes scattered across his frame, bulky. Too bulky to be able to swing up like I'd seen in the museum. He was wearing chain-mail and an ornate head mask. He bent his arms into his chest as two men come over and started to attach heavy chains and straps to him. There were strapping his folded arms in front of him and backed him up against the board, chaining him too it. My eyes drifted across to the arrow as it dawned on me what they were doing.
"Classic Chinese escapology act." Sherlock spoke softly but I wasn't sure if it was to me or to John. He was still just as close to me as before but I began to move a little to the side. I wasn't all that fond of the formidable looking weapon on the other side of the room.
"Hmm?" John looked distractedly back at us. His eyes widened a tad as he took in Sherlock's proximity to me, his eyes were jumping from Sherlock's hand back to my face again.
"The crossbow's on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires." Sherlock explained smugly. He loved showing off his knowledge to John. I think it made him feel a little better that nearly everyone hated him in his life.
The woman turned and loaded another arrow into the crossbow while the men attached more padlocks and chains, pulling a chain tight. It yanked the warrior's head back against the board with a solid thud making him cry out. My lips started to tighten as I remember the feeling of my own head bouncing of the kitchen floor. The men looped the remaining chains through the solid rings attached to the board, securing the warrior entirely, he cried out again as they took a step away.
I turned my head away from it, looking at Sherlock's clothed shoulder as he stood next to me. The music began to build up in intensity and cymbals crashed unexpectedly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sarah jump and clutch at John's arm. She was definitely trying for him to reach towards her or something but John seemed more content to fum over Sherlock's manipulations.
I looked back to the centre as Sarah apologised, "Oh, Gawd! I'm sorry!" She giggled, wrapping her hands around one of his arms. I don't think I liked this show very much anymore. In fact I was quite done with it. I watched with tight lips as the woman held up a small knife, looking back to a small sandbag that was hanging down.
"She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl." Sherlock was the running commentary man, apparently. Wonderful.
"Hush." I whispered reaching up to quiet him, he caught my hand easily bringing it back down to my side.
The woman did just what Sherlock predicted – she reached up to the small sandbag hanging on a long cable and stabbed the knife into the bottom of the sack. Sand began to pour out, as the warrior repeatedly cried out of effort as he tugs at his chains. I didn't like it at all.
"Show time." I turned my head away again as Sherlock whispered into my ear. He pulled me away easily out into the hallway, I was happy to follow him out of there. Everyone's attention was still on the warrior as he cried out over and over again. We ran down a deserted hallway and up a small set of stairs. I could hear clapping and a bit of light peeking through what appeared to be curtains. We had to be on the stage, it was right behind the show and there were mirrors and costumes everywhere. It was messily thrown across the room like they'd been in a hurry.
"What are we looking for?" I whispered as I took a few hesitant steps into the room, Sherlock was in front of me looking around. I could just see his hair bouncing as he turned his head 'round.
"Michigan; hardcore propellant. Of the Zinc variety." He whispered back, kneeling down to look under a makeup table. I nodded to myself as my brain's wheels began to turn and turn. I walked past him, looking around at the room. Where would I keep cans of yellow spray paint? It'd be bright. Would I want it to attract attention? No. So I would keep it covered...
I knelt down and slid open a drawer, nothing but brushes and lipsticks greeted me. So maybe I'd want to keep it all together. A sack of some kind. It'd be big if this was the same thing used to write the characters that Sherlock and John were trying to get the girl to translate in the museum. They'd need a steady supply. I brushed past a costume standing alone in the corner.
"Well, well." Sherlock muttered behind me. I turned and looked back at him as he peeked through the curtains.
"We have our spider." He looked back at me, still holding up the curtain. I felt a bit of relief that he was out there while we weren't, I didn't fancy running into him while we were sneaking around. A door slammed nearby pushing us both into action as I ducked under a clothing stand, Sherlock was too tall to just duck and ended up having to move the clothes. I could just see through the clothes as he pulled them back into place and crouched. Sometimes it paid off to be this short. Though my heart beat felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. I hadn't been this sneaky since my time in Uni.
The woman stomped in and picked up her mobile, looking at it for a second. Sherlock rustled the clothes hangers, creating noise. I cut him a dirty look as he quickly crouched down, looking back at me with a tinge of annoyance. He should have known better, honestly. He looked back down to the floor as another door closed telling me that she'd most likely left.
He pushed open a black bag on the ground with his foot, revealing the cans of paint."Found you." He grinned back up at me as he sang it. I rolled my eyes, moving to duck back down and out of the clothing rack. These all smelled funny. Like the costume stores around Halloween.
He followed behind me, shaking the can and going closer to the mirror. I sighed and looked back at him, putting a hand on my hip. I wanted to leave before another one of the Chinese circus folk/smugglers came 'round again. He shook it some more and spray a single line across one. I watched his face turn into one of delight but paused, something was moving. I wasn't sure what. He started to frown as well, turning around and looking behind him at the warrior costume.
"Shit." I mumbled as I realised the costume now had someone in it. We just couldn't have one good day, could we? Just one bloody day where there wasn't someone attacking us. Fucking hell, he's got a sword too.
The man charged forwards, lashing out at Sherlock with the large decorated knife. I felt my heart slip up to my throat as Sherlock duck backwards and tried to avoid each blow as the warrior just continued to charge. Sherlock ducked and swayed, spraying him in the eyes with the paint as he stumbled back from the warrior. I needed to do something but first I needed to take a step back. This was the situation I was in. Nothing else to say about it except how to remedy it.
I watched as Sherlock blocked with the spray can and pushed the warrior back. The man seemed to almost ignore me as he hopped up from the ground with a stupidly cool trick and started swinging for Sherlock again. With little else to do, my eyes darted across the room for something to hit him with and choose one of the chairs. I picked it up, ignoring the stings running down my arm as I jostled them and swung for his back. I saw Sherlock go flying out of the curtains right as the chair started to bend, hitting the warrior's back with force I didn't know I had.
He snarled something at me as he stumbled and fell forwards, off the stage. I was breathing deeply as I went to hop off the stage to go pick up Sherlock off the floor while the other guy was still down. Apparently he wasn't down for that long because as soon as I got one step ahead of him, he yanked my feet up, making me land hard on my front with a yelp of pain.
Okay. Now he's just being a pest. I rolled to my front as he raised his foot back to swing it into my face when John pushed him back. I might have been a little pissed off when I stumbled to my feet shakily. I watched him Shove John back onto his arse and swing my leg back like I was about to kick a football across the field and let it fly forwards into his crotch.
"Don't you fucking hit me, you tit." I grunted as he immediately bent at the waist like clockwork as he grasped his knob, groaning out of pain.
I drove my knee up right into his nose, his mask seemed to cover up a bit of the blow but I heard a crunch and hoped to god it was his fucking nose. I felt little stabs of pain travel up my thigh but the overwhelming sense of victory pushed it to the back of my mind. That was a move my da had taught me years and years ago. The other was kick and keep kicking until he fell, felt like this was more appropriate given the circumstance. I was taking in deep breaths, heaving if you will.
"Come on!" Sherlock sounded just as breathless as me but more excited as he got off his lazy arse and hobbled towards the exit.