Chapter eleven: Dressed to please


Four days later,


Sherlock glanced at me. "You and mother need to go shopping. You need to buy a new dress."

I glower at him. "What's wrong with my dresses?"

"Nothing. They're all light colored, virtually innocent looking and boring."

I cross my legs as I lean back in the carriage. "Why don't you tell my why you really want me to buy a new dress? You're still storing eyeballs and thumbs in your nightstand dresser. They're starting to smell, but you don't care. My dresses are innocent looking," I paused for a moment and asked. "are you trying to say you don't like my clothes?"

"When we first met, you were wearing this outrageous, bright shade of blue. That was the only thing you've worn that made you look somewhat attractive." I rolled my eyes as he continued questioning me. "What happened to it?"

I exhaled. "My stepmother burned all of the clothing in my closet except for the pastel colors after we met."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

I looked up at him. "My goal in this temporary life is to try to be helpful and not cause trouble."

"The fact that half of your wardrobe was burned," he explained calmly. "it wouldn't be trouble if you admitted that you needed more clothing. I told you, while you were here under my protection, that I would take care of you as husbands are expected to do. Is it too much to ask that you confide in me like a wife should?"

Sherlock Holmes was a very difficult man for me to comprehend at times. Last night was actually the first night we actually shared a bed together. Sherlock would go out during all odd hours of the night and he'd sleep for an hour or two before getting up and continuing whatever he'd been working on. when we actually woke up in bed together, at the same time, we just stared at each other for about thirty seconds before deciding to get out of bed and get dressed.

I'd go out with him and we'd be seen in the proper places for society's sake. We'd got to the park and remain absolutely silent the entire time. We'd have dinner and Sherlock would try to gross me out by giving me gory details about some of the cases he'd already solved. However, it never worked, which irritated him beyond all belief. We were always irritating each other, it seemed unavoidable.

We were somehow able to work together in his lab. I'd log all specific scientific data for him, making it easier for him to look up, even if it aggravated him. I did use my money to purchase several filing drawers, sorting them by the contents. Poison, guns, chemicals, and a short write ups of the cases that he'd solved. I'd also filed the names of all the people he'd come across, those who were dead or in prison. He liked those, allowing his 'memory palace' some extra space.

"Tammy," Sherlock's voice brought me out of m distant thoughts. "are you listening to me?"

"No. I drifted, sorry," I now gave him my full attention. "what were you saying?"

"Nothing important." He leaned back in his seat. "We're merely expecting Moriarty and your mother for dinner tonight." I choked and sat up, he remained impassive. "I need you to try to find something attractive in your wardrobe to catch his attention."

"Are you implying I couldn't catch his attention in my dresses?" My dresses were pretty colors, even though I didn't favor pastels.

Sherlock shook his head. "No."

I stuck my head out the window. "Stop the carriage!" the carriage jerked to a stop and I reached for the door. Sherlock grabbed a hold of my wrist and I pulled free and opened the door. I spun around and held out my hand. "I'll shop now and get it done."

Sherlock frowned. "I really don't approve of you going about without a chaperone, especially with what's going to unfold tonight."

I groan. "Just give me some money and I'll buy a dress for tonight. Something special. I'll pay you back."

"Don't bother. Be sure you buy yourself all the appropriate accessories needed as well."

I frown. "You're being nice to me, that usually means you want something. What is it?"

He exhales. "Fine, I want you to wear that bracelet tonight."

"That's all?" he nods. "Are you telling me the truth?"

He groaned and reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed me a large sum of money without even counting it. "Buy yourself whatever you want. If there isn't enough, open an account and have them send the bill to me."

I hesitated and asked again. "Whatever I want?"

He snorted. "Of course, I said so didn't I?" he then realized that I wasn't used to being able to do such things. He softened his tone. "As per our agreement, I will take care of you; I can afford whatever it is you need. In fact, by yourself a complete wardrobe." I began shaking my head in protest. "I insist. If you don't pick out an entire wardrobe, I'll send a message back the store and ask the manager to complete your wardrobe."

I bite my lip and say. "If you want to examine the bracelet afterwards, you can do that." At his curious look, I stated my reason. Sherlock had granted me a few days to earn his trust before allowing him to look at my mother's bracelet. "One good turn deserves another. I'll let you see it after the party."


I was going to kill him.

Sherlock banged on the door again. "Are you ready yet?"

"You asked me that exactly two minutes ago." I stated as I glanced at the clock. I reached for my lipstick. "Go downstairs and greet my mother. Keep her talking and I'll walk on down."

"Why?"

"I'm going to make an entrance. And don't ask me why, you'll see why. Now go!"

"Stop ordering me around."

"Turn about is fair play. Besides, you're going to what I say anyway." I can tell by the step of his footsteps that he's already halfway down the hall. I smirk. "That's a good little boy."

This man was determined to drive me crazy before we got our marriage annulled. I'd come home and found all but two of my dresses gone. There was no doubt in my mind that Sherlock had taken them out and burned them or something. I was glad I'd been able to find some gowns that were very stylish and new.

I stood up and teased several curls free from my upswept hairdo. Satisfied with my appearance, I removed my protective robe to reveal my crimson dress with black beads. I loved this dress the moment I'd seen it. there were tons of black beads on the skirt, lacy black sleeves and black fringes. The bracelet was a little unusual, but I added a silver necklace, so my bracelet didn't stand out as much.

I opened the door and walked down the hall. I could hear my stepmother's voice downstairs and a man's voice. My heart stopped as I recognized the voice. It was Moriarty. I inhaled deeply several times. Sherlock was expecting a lot from me tonight, he was going to allow Moriarty, the man who killed my parents to make a pass at me. however, the goal was to get him to incriminate himself.

I smoothed my dress down and carefully moved towards the staircase. I placed my hand on the banister and began to walk down the stairs. All three heads, Sherlock, Moriarty and my stepmother, all looked towards me and their faces froze. True, I was wearing red and it was a scandalous color, but I produced such interesting reactions from all three of them.

My stepmother's expression was one of horrified hatred, if that was even possible. Moriarty, it was obvious lust and desire. He looked at me as if he were a child eying the last ice cream cone within a ten-mile radius of his house. But it was Sherlock's expression that caused me to falter slightly on the steps and my cheeks to heat. If he was acting, he was doing a good job. He was looking at me as if…he were seeing me for the first time in his life. no, he was actually looking at me as if he was in love with me, but I knew that was impossible.

I stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked at Sherlock. He studied me for a long silent moment, making me grow more and more uncomfortable. "Do….I look alright?"

"You're," he said slowly. "proof of heaven."

I flushed harder. "Thank you." he leaned forward and kissed me on my cheek. It wasn't difficult for me to gently push him aside. "Sherlock, please….we have company."

"Sorry." He murmured right by my ear, causing me to jump. I glanced up at him curiously, vexed to find his eyes dancing in amusement at my discomfort. "I keep forgetting you're still so shy." I looked away from him, turned toward my mother and Moriarty. Sherlock smiled took a hold of my elbow. "Ahh, Tammy, allow me to introduce you to James Moriarty." I managed a smile, somehow. "Moriarty, my wife."

"Charmed," he drolled lazily as he took my hand, the one ironically with the bracelet on it and kissed my hand. I felt Sherlock's grip on my elbow tighten just slightly on my arm and I glanced at him curiously for a second. His expression was emotionless, but his other hand, the fingers are tightly flexed and taut. Moriarty looked up at me, his dark eyes betraying mischief. "and honored."

I smiled as I daringly curled my fingers over his hand and spoke a lie to the man who'd killed my parents. "I'm glad to meet you." But then, the moment the words left my mouth, I realized an awful truth. I was glad to see him, for it wouldn't be long before this man was in jail for the crimes he'd committed.


Lady Gisbourne 15: Yes, the play acting plays a huge role for the two of them in this one. Because up to a point, they're going to get lost in the playing.

And to those wondering about Tammy's red dress, envision Rose's red jump dress from Titanic.