I decided to try and link the next few chapters with the series, so this chapter follows on with the episode quite closely. However, this is just to anchor it in and the following chapters should be scenes and times we don't see in the show. Hope that's okay :)
~0~0~0~
"Go to the stream." Sherlock told the man on his computer screen, tightening the sheet he was wearing instead of his clothes. It was simple really, he just couldn't understand why people didn't see the world like he did. A hiker, an accomplished sportsman who'd been on holiday, hit on the back of the head with a blunt instrument? It was practically waving in their faces.
"What's in the stream?" The Detective Inspected asked from the field in the countryside... somewhere unimportant.
"Go and see." Sherlock commanded him as the door behind him swung open.
"Sherlock! You weren't answering your doorbell!" She cried, alarmed as two men in suits followed her in. One turned to his college and pointed to the back of the flat.
"His room's through the back. Get him some clothes."
"Who the hell are you?" Sherlock demanded as the other man headed towards his bedroom.
"Sorry, Mr. Holmes. You're coming with us." The man in charge stepped towards him, closing the lid and the conversation with John. The other man returned with a pile of clothes and a pair of shoes, putting them down on the table in front of Sherlock pointedly. Sherlock raised an eyebrow before looking away, disinterested in the entire affair.
"Please, Mr. Holmes. Where you're going, you'll want to be dressed." The man in charge said with a knowing smirk. Sherlock gazed at him briefly, the fact that he wasn't armed and covered in the hair of three separate dogs telling him everything he needed to know.
"Oh, I know exactly where I'm going." Sherlock replied with the same smirk and he stood up, a glance out of the window at the car below them confirming exactly who he was going to meet there. Well, this might be interesting after all. Perhaps it could be used to gather some more information he'd been trying to get for a while now, "And I'm not going without my girlfriend." He stalked past them and down the stairs to 221C, raising his hand to knock before deciding he needed to be quicker than that. He chucked the door open and Faye spun in alarm, dressed in only two blue towels, one wrapped around her and another balanced on her head. She opened her mouth to yell at him when the two men came in behind him. She took in Sherlock's own state of undress before heading to the door and the three men.
"Where are we off to?" She asked as they all left the building, heading the the car.
"Oh, you'll never believe me sweetheart." Sherlock replied and she grinned.
~0~0~0~
John was lead into a sitting room on the first floor of Buckingham Palace, still completely in the dark about what was going on. He had learnt to not question anything when it came to Sherlock, though, so he felt he'd taken it in good grace. Sherlock was sat on one of two very regal sofas in just the large white sheet he'd been wearing during the video call but he was completely taken aback by the sight of Faye in just a towel, using another in her hand to dry her hair. He looked between the two then at Sherlock for answers, but the man just shrugged at him. He moved over and sat on the other end of the sofa, Faye sandwiched between them.
"Are you wearing any pants?" John asked the pair.
"No." Sherlock replied instantly whilst Faye shook her head, crossing one leg over the other.
"Okay." He turned to Faye and she smiled excitedly at them before the three burst into fits of laughter. "At Buckingham Palace, fine." He conceded before leaning in towards the pair, "Oh, I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray."
"That would be brilliant." Faye agreed, "A genuine royal ashtray. You could sell it for thousands." John looked over at Sherlock, who was pointedly looking at a pile of his clothes on the table in front of them.
"What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?" He asked and Sherlock shrugged, still smiling.
"I don't know." He admitted.
"I don't understand why I had to come along for the ride." Faye pointed out, fluffing her hair with her hand to try and get it under control. She didn't have her normal hair products, and the last thing she wanted was frizzy hair. Sherlock glanced over at her at the motion and saw the very tips of brown roots beginning to show. So she dyed her hair...
"Here to see the Queen?" John suggested as Mycroft strolled in from the next room.
"Oh, apparently yes." Sherlock confirmed and the three began to laugh again, Faye giggling wildly even though Mycroft was eyeing them with a distinct look of exasperation.
"Just once, can you three behave like grown-ups?" He asked them.
"We solve crimes, I blog about it, he forgets his pants and she agrees with my thieving impulses so I wouldn't hold out too much hope." John pointed out. Sherlock glanced up at his brother, who didn't look the least bit surprised at the sight of the woman in between the two. Then again, Mycroft was almost as good at masking his reactions as he was. All he saw was his eyes flicker down to Faye, then move back to himself. Not the reaction he had been hoping for, he had hoped seeing her would have had a more surprised reaction.
"I was startled to hear my brother was bringing his 'girlfriend' along." Mycroft offered offhandedly and Faye shifted, smirking at Sherlock teasingly.
"Girlfriend?" She asked, "That's news to me. Have we been going out long considering I'm mentally unstable enough to carve my own face off?" Sherlock ignored her, staring up at his brother unamused. Maybe he had been expecting her to come along? No, there was no way he would have known if she'd been in his flat or not. He'd never mentioned Faye to him before, so he wanted to keep whatever relationship they had a secret. He wasn't getting any answers, he didn't like that.
"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft." Sherlock told him as an answer.
"What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?" Mycroft retorted and Sherlock nodded.
"Transparent." John turned to look at him, surprised that he already knew what had happened. Although, he still wasn't sure why Sherlock constantly surprised him.
"Time to move on, then." Mycroft leant down, picked up the shoes and clothes and offered them to Sherlock, who eyed them in the same disinterest as before then pointedly looking away. Mycroft sighed in annoyance.
"We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on." He commanded angrily. Sherlock shrugged.
"What for?" He asked.
"Your client." Sherlock stood up, the sheet covering him almost completely.
"And my client is?"
"Illustrious," They all turned to see a man stroll into the room leisurely, as if he was used to the grandeur of the palace, "in the extreme." John stood up but Faye stayed with her hands clasped on her lap, "And remaining – I have to inform you – entirely anonymous." He glanced over at Mycroft and smiled, "Mycroft!"
"Harry." The older Holmes replied, walking over with the same smile plastered on his face and the pair shook hands, "May I just apologise for the state of my little brother?"
"Full-time occupation, I imagine." Faye sucked her bottom lip to mask her amusement as Sherlock scowled, "And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers." Harry declared and John nodded, holding his hand out.
"Hello, yes." He confirmed as the man shook it firmly.
"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog." Harry told him and John blinked in surprise.
"Your employer?" Harry nodded.
"Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch." John beamed, shooting Sherlock a smug look.
"Thank you!" Harry looked down at Faye, his sweeping gaze of her wiping away all of her amusement.
"And who is this charming lady?" He asked, obviously only expecting the two men. She pursed her lips together as she stood up, stepping so close to Sherlock she banged gently into him.
"Sherlock's girlfriend." She introduced herself, completely offended by the man in front of her. Sherlock, sensing her distress and coupled with his immediate dislike of Harry, nodded in agreement.
"I'd appreciate if you would stop leering at her." He told them. Mycroft, eyebrows raised at his little brother coming to her aid, was also very grateful that being called out on his ulcerous look made him glance away from Faye's legs. So he didn't want anyone looking at her? Interesting. Harry cleared his throat and walked closer to Sherlock.
"And Mr. Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs." Harry told him. Sherlock stared directly into his eyes.
"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend." He retorted before walking away and up to Mycroft.
"Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases. Both ends is too much work." He told his brother before throwing a fleeting glance at Harry again, "Good morning." He turned and stalked towards the doorway when Mycroft stood on the edge of he sheet. He didn't notice until the sheet fell around his hips, his quick reaction the only thing stopping him being completely exposed. John looked at Faye, startled by the squeak that broke from her lips and she stared at Sherlock with her hand over her mouth.
"This is a matter of national importance. Grow up." Mycroft snapped, losing patience with him as he refused to turn around.
"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock demanded through gritted teeth.
"Or what?" Mycroft pressed.
"Or I'll just walk away." Sherlock retorted.
"I'll let you." Faye clasped her hands together, looking at the ceiling as if praying.
"Please." She mock-whispered and John shot her a look.
"Not helping." He told her before walking over to the brothers, "Boys, please. Not here."
"Who. Is. My. Client?" Sherlock demanded.
"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake," Mycroft inhaled, remembering whose presence he was in before glaring at his little brother, "put your clothes on!" Sherlock didn't move, taking a deep breath before he stormed over and picked up the pile that had been brought for him.
"Hold on." Faye cried as he headed back towards the doorway, "Why does he get clothes and I don't? That's incredibly sexist."
"Sexy." Sherlock corrected over his shoulder, disappearing from view. Faye beamed, blushing slightly as John stared after him, still none the wiser over what was going on.
~0~0~0~
Faye watched Sherlock and John walked out of the room, pulling the white sheet around her as thye headed off to meet this 'Irene Adler'. Sherlock had come back to the uncomfortably silent room and draped the white sheet over her shoulders before proceeding with the reason they were there. No mention was made of it, and he left without taking it from her but she had used it to cover herself from the gaze of the Harry bloke she had been sat in front of.
"Are you not following your boyfriend?" He had asked and she shook her head.
"I'm not going anywhere without some clothes." She retorted, "Can't have perverts looking me over like a piece of meat, what would Sherlock say?" He'd scowled, he and Mycroft had exchanged pleasantries and he had left the pair alone. Mycroft looked down at her.
"I shall have Anthea fetch you some clothes." He told her.
"She told John that wasn't her name." Faye told him, looking at the envelope on the table. She reached forward, pulling the images of Irene Adler's website out, flicking through them.
"Anthea will do that." Mycroft replied as he watched her stare at the woman.
"She has blue eyes." She remarked as she stared down at the picture, "She's very beautiful. No wonder men hire her. I would too." Mycroft watched her slide them back into the envelope.
"You do realise Sherlock isn't actually your boyfriend?" He asked her and she stood up, pulling the sheet around her as she glared furiously at him.
"Of course I bloody know." She hissed, "But you are supposed to be my friend, and you've sent him to her. Why did it have to be Sherlock?"
"It's in the country's best interest that those photos are obtained." He told her calmly.
"She will eat him alive! He's your brother, Mycroft." She exclaimed in disbelief, "And you sent him to her."
"You seem to have very little faith in him." She sighed.
"He is naïve, she obviously is not considering the position 'the country' appears to be in. He will not get them photos."
"My brother will not fall for the 'womanly wiles' of Miss Adler." Mycroft told her firmly, "He does not see things others do. It's not how he views the world."
"Yes it is." She told him, "Otherwise I wouldn't be in the bloody situation I am now, with dyed blonde hair and fucking fake contact lenses. She'll see that straight away! It's what women like her do!"
"Oh." Mycroft breathed, "You're upset it might be her and not you." Faye's hands clenched at her side and she turned, letting the sheet fall and leaving her in just the towel again.
"I'm going home." She told him as she stalked out of the room.