13: Scandal - Part I
Shmuuyaassyyy - Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive :D Thank you! I will keep writing until the end of the series is upon us!
When I was writing the fanfiction out and I stumbled upon this episode I blinked and thought: Crap…how do I do this? Then I got an idea…
As Parker and Jim Moriarty stared at each other, the introduction to The Bee Gees' song 'Stayin' Alive' began to play tinnily. Parker and John look around, confused. Jim briefly closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "D'you mind if I get that?"
"No, no, please," said Parker. "You've got the rest of your life."
Jim took his phone from his pocket and answered it. "Hello?…Yes, of course it is. What do you want?" He mouthed 'Sorry' at Parker, who sarcastically mouthed 'Oh, it's fine' back at him, waving her gun casually. Jim rolled his eyes as he listened to the phone, turning away from Parker for a moment, then he spun back around, his face full of fury. "SAY THAT AGAIN!" he yelled. Parker frowned a bit. "Say that again," Jim said venomously into the phone, "and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you." Parker looked round at John. Jim spoke into phone again. "Wait." Lowering the phone, he began to walk forward. Parker looked at the bomb jacket fretfully and adjusted the grip on her pistol as Jim approached. Jim stopped at the jacket and gazed down at the ground thoughtfully before lifting his eyes to Parker. "Sorry. Wrong day to die. Plus the others weren't here to witness it, so…" he trailed off.
"Oh," said Parker casually. "Did you get a better offer?"
Jim looked down at the phone, then turned and slowly started to walk away. "You'll be hearing from me, Nightingale. You and the rest of your Trio." He strolled back around the pool towards the door through which he originally came, lifting the phone to his ear again. "So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes." Reaching the door, he raised his free hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly all the lasers focused on Parker and John disappeared. As Jim walked through the door and vanished from sight, Parker looked around the pool but could see no sign of the retreating snipers. John sighed out a relieved breath. "What happened there?" he asked.
"I dunno," Parker said. "But I think someone changed his mind. Who? How?"
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At the flat, Parker was sitting at the table in the living room updating her blog on her laptop. Lily was standing at the other side of the table drinking from a mug while leafing through a newspaper. Elizabeth was texting from her regular armchair. "What are you typing?" Elizabeth asked.
"Blog," Parker simply answered.
"About?" inquired Lily.
"Us three."
The doorbell rang. Elizabeth stood up. "Right then." She walked towards the door as she put her phone in her pocket. "So, what have we got?"
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Over the course of several weeks, people came to the Golden Trio about cases. "My wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office."
Lily sighed. "And you come to us for this?"
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"I think my husband might be having an affair."
"Deal with it yourself."
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A guy was holding a funeral urn. "She's not my real aunt. She's been replaced – I know she has. I know human ash."
Lily pointed to the door. "Creep. Leave."
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"We are prepared to offer any sum of money you care to mention for the recovery of these files," said a businessman.
"Too much like Grant," Elizabeth said distastefully.
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"We have this website," said a young man, flanked by two other boys. "It explains the true meaning of comic books, 'cause people miss a lot of the themes." Lily was already looking disinterested. "But then all the comic books started coming true." Parker looked at Lily with a face that said: 'Please, please pretty please?'
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Later, Parker was sitting in her chair and updating her blog again. She had entitled the entry 'The Geek Interpreter'. Elizabeth leaned over her shoulder. "Geek interpreter. What's that?"
"It's the title."
Elizabeth shrugged. "Hm. You were better at coming up with titles when you were in fifth grade." Parker was silent. Elizabeth straightened up and walked away.
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They were at the morgue at Bart's. Lily was using her magnifier to look at a woman's body lying on the table. Parker and Lily were standing on either side of the table and Detective Inspector Lestrade was nearby with Elizabeth. "Parker, do people actually read your blog?" Lily asked.
"Where d'you think our clients come from?"
"Elizabeth and I have a website."
"You rarely update, and it's all boring. Nobody's reading your guys' website." Lily straightened up and glared at her, then pouted momentarily as Parker continued to look at the body. "Right then: dyed blonde hair; no obvious cause of death except for these speckles, whatever they are." She pointed at the tiny red marks on the woman's body but Lily had already turned and flounced out of the room.
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Back at the flat, Parker was updating her blog again. Lily walked past eating a piece of toast. She stopped and looked at the title for the entry. "The Speckled Blonde?!" she asked with her mouth full. "You were better at coming up with titles as a teenager." Parker pursed her lips as Lily walked away again.
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Two little girls were sitting together on one of the dining chairs in the flat. "They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead. Is that 'cause he'd gone to heaven?"
"The body itself doesn't go to heaven," Lily said. "The spirit goes but the body is either buried or burned."
The two girls looked at each other in distress. "Lily," Elizabeth said reprovingly.
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Lestrade was leading the Golden Trio across some open ground. "There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday," Lestrade said. "Everyone dead."
"Suspected terrorist bomb," said Lily. "We watch the news."
Lestrade looked at a bag of evidence. "Well, according to the flight details, this man was checked in on board. Inside his coat he's got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of those special biscuits. Here's his passport stamped in Berlin Airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday but instead he's in a car boot in Southwark."
"Lucky escape!" Elizabeth said.
"Any ideas?"
Lily began examining the man's hand with her magnifier. "A few." She straightened up and looked at the body again, then frowned momentarily. "Okay, very few." She turned to Lestrade and looked down at the passport and the ticket stub of the passenger, John Coniston, who was meant to be travelling on Flyaway Airways. Standing up, she gazed up into the sky. "Maybe no ideas…"
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Back at the flat, Elizabeth – wearing heavy protective gloves and safety glasses and carrying a blowtorch in one hand and a glass container of green liquid in the other – had come to the living room table to look at Parker's latest blog entry which was entitled: 'Golden Trio Baffled'. Elizabeth huffed. "Baffled," she muttered irritably.
Parker merely smiled at her laptop. "Look at that." She was looking at the hit counter on the front page of her blog. "One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five."
"What?" Elizabeth wondered.
"I reset that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is our living, Elizabeth – not people getting mutant powers from alien hail!"
"…Alien rain," Elizabeth corrected sulkily. Firing up the blowtorch, she put her safety glasses back on and headed back towards the kitchen.
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The Golden Trio was walking across the stage of a theatre while police officers milled around nearby. "So, what's this one?" Lily asked sarcastically. "Belly Button Murders?"
"The Navel Treatment?" Parker suggested.
"Eurgh!" said Lily. Elizabeth snickered.
They walked backstage and met up with Lestrade as they headed for the exit. "There's a lot of press outside, guys."
"Well, they won't be interested in us," Lily said.
"Yeah, that was before you were an internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you three."
Lily was exasperated, glaring round at Parker. "For goodness sake!"
Parker quirked a smile as they walked on. "Well, maybe publicity isn't so good," she admitted. She spotted some costumes on a rack just inside a nearby dressing room. She walked in and grabbed a couple of items off the rack. "Guys." She tossed Lily and Elizabeth a hat each. "Urg! There aren't any hats left. Aha!" Parker walked out and had a large, black trench coat on, billowing out behind her as she strode quickly. "Cover your face and walk fast."
"Still," said Lestrade, "it's good for the public image, a big case like this."
"We have secret identities," Parker muttered, just loud enough for Elizabeth and Lily to hear. "The last thing we need is a public image."
As they stepped outside, photographers start taking as many pictures of the Golden Trio as they could.
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Lily stood outside the airport with Elizabeth and Parker. "Okay, I know it's a long time," Lily said, "but it's a one in a lifetime opportunity!"
Elizabeth continued to pout. "You'll be gone for almost a year!"
Lily sighed. "I'm gonna go to Scotland, and I'm gonna be in this play." She proceeded to hug her friends. "I'll write, I'll Skype, I'll call, I'll everything." She walked into the airport, tugging all of her suitcases behind her. "Don't have too many fun cases without me!" she called back over her shoulder.
"We won't!" Elizabeth assured.
Parker cleared her throat and turned to Elizabeth once their friend was in the airport. "John invited me over to his flat," she said. "I'll probably be back by the end of the day." Elizabeth nodded, letting Parker head off.
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Parker knocked on the door to 221B and waited for a moment. After a bit, the door was answered by John. He smiled. "Hi, Parker, er, come on in." He led Parker up the stairs. "Well, Sherlock and I just got a client, so we just need to, uh, talk to him really quick."
Parker nodded. "Alright, that's okay." The two of them stepped into the flat where
Sherlock was pacing and a man was sitting on one of the dining table chairs in the middle of the lounge. He was staring rather blankly in front of him. Sherlock looked over and spotted Parker. "Leave," he ordered simply. John shot him a looked then sat on the sofa behind the client – Phil – and Sherlock continued pacing. Sherlock sighed then turned back to the client. "Just tell us from the start. Don't be boring," he added sternly.
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A crime scene had been set up at the riverside of the death Phil had reported. A young police officer brought a mobile phone over to Detective Inspector Carter. "Sir. A phone call for you."
Carter accepted the phone. "Carter."
"Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes?" came Lestrade's voice.
"Who?"
"Well, you're about to meet him now. This is your case. It's entirely up to you. This is just friendly advice, but give Sherlock five minutes on your crime scene and listen to everything that he has to say. And as far as possible…try not to punch him."
Carter looked down in bewilderment at the phone as Lestrade ended the call. The young police officer had been leaning into the car speaking to the person in the back seat. "Okay," the officer said. He turned to Carter as he approached. "Sir, this gentleman says he needs to speak to you."
"Yes, I know." He walked closer to the car. "Sherlock Holmes."
John stepped out of the car and shook Carter's hand, Parker getting out of the other side. "John Watson and Marie Kiehof," he corrected. "Are you set up for Wi-Fi?"
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Parker and John walked around the crime scene, John carrying a computer. "Not exactly a normal way to carry out a date," John said.
An annoyed, unamused sigh came from the laptop. "Oh dear," Sherlock muttered.
John rolled his eyes. "You realise this is a tiny bit humiliating?" he said towards the Skype conversation.
"It's okay," said Sherlock, "I'm fine. Now, show me to the stream."
"I didn't really mean for you."
"Look, this is a six. There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We agreed. Now, go back. Show me the grass."
John walked down to the stream and pointed the camera on his laptop towards the grass at the stream's edge and squatted down. "When did we agree that?"
"We agreed it yesterday. Stop! Closer."
Instead of following his instructions, John swung the laptop around so that he could look into the camera. "I wasn't even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin."
"Well, it's hardly my fault you weren't listening."
"D'you just carry on talking when I'm away?"
"I don't know. How often are you away? Now, show me the car that backfired."
Sighing, John stood up and turned the laptop and its camera towards the road to show Phil's car. He mouthed a quick sorry to Parker and Parker smiled reassuringly. "It's there," John said.
"That's the one that made the noise, yes?"
John swung the camera back around to look into it. "Yeah. And if you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one. He wasn't shot; he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That's gotta be an eight at least."
As John and Parker walked back towards the road, Carter was following along behind him. "You've got two more minutes," Carter said, "then I want to know more about the driver."
"Oh, forget him," said Sherlock. "He's an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?"
Carter caught up to John and leaned over to look into the camera. "I think he's a suspect!"
"Pass me over," Sherlock ordered.
"All right," John said, "but there's a Mute button and I will use it." He tilted the laptop at an angle that Sherlock was not happy with.
"Up a bit!" Sherlock said irritatedly. "I'm not talking from down 'ere!"
John had enough and offered the laptop to Carter. "Okay, just take it, take it."
Carter takes the laptop as John walked away with Parker.
"Sorry about all this," John said.
Parker shrugged. "Oh, it's fine. I've had to deal with Lily, so after that I can handle just about anyone."
John smiled. "Not Sherlock."
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Elizabeth answered the door and found two men standing outside. "Excuse us, Ms. Pennies," said one of the men, "but you'll need to come with us."
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As the screen went black, John poked at the keyboard frantically. "I've lost him. I don't know what…"
The young police officer hurried over to him with a phone pressed to his ear. "Doctor Watson and Doctor Kiehof?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Parker.
"It's for you."
"Okay, thanks," said John. Still looking at the screen, he held out his hand for the phone.
"Uh, no. The helicopter." Parker and John both turned and look at the helicopter which was just coming in to land at the edge of the river.
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Parker and John had been shown into an enormous ornate hall with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. They looked around for a moment, then followed their escort who gestured them to a nearby room before walking away. On a small round table in the middle of the room was the pile of clothes and shoes which had been put down in front of none other than Sherlock Holmes. There was a sofa either side of the table and sitting on the left-hand one was Sherlock, still wrapped in his sheet. On the right-hand one was Elizabeth, looking unamused at Sherlock. They both looked across to Parker and John. Parker raised an eyebrow and John held out his hands in a "What the heck?!" gesture. Sherlock shrugged disinterestedly and looked away again. Nodding in a resigned way, John walked slowly into the room, then sat down on the sofa beside his friend. Parker stood awkwardly for a moment before taking a seat across from John and by Elizabeth. John gazed in front of himself for a moment, chewing back a giggle, looked around the room again and then looked at Sherlock, peering closely at his sheet and particularly the section wrapped around his backside. He turned his head away again.
"Are you wearing any pants?"
"No."
"Okay."
He sighed quietly as Elizabeth and Parker exchanged glances. A moment later, Sherlock turned and looked at John just as John also turned to look. Their eyes met and they promptly burst out laughing.
John gestured around the building as he spoke. "At Buckingham Palace, fine." He tried to get himself under control. "Oh, I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray." Sherlock chuckled again and Parker quirked a smile. "What are we all doing here? Seriously, what?"
"I don't know," spoke up Elizabeth.
"Here to see the Queen?" John asked.
At that moment Mycroft Holmes walked in from the next room, followed by Wesley Kiehof. "Oh, apparently yes," said Sherlock.
John cracked up again and Sherlock promptly joined in. The two of them continued to giggle as Mycroft looked at them in exasperation. "Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?"
"We solve crimes, I blog about it and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope," said John. Parker didn't manage hold back a giggle and Wesley looked towards her.
Sherlock looked up at his brother as Mycroft walked into the room, all humour gone from his face. "I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft," Sherlock said.
"What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?"
"Transparent." John looked a bit startled.
"Time to move on, then," Mycoft said. He bent down and picked up the clothes and shoes from the table, turning to offer them to Sherlock. His brother gazed at them uninterestedly. Mycroft sighed. "We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation." His tone became very stern. "Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on."
Sherlock shrugged. "What for?"
"Your client." Mycroft looked around the room at everyone. "For all of you."
Elizabeth and Parker exchanged confused looks. Sherlock stood up. "All of us? Are you saying we…work together?"
"Is that a problem?" Wesley asked.
Sherlock huffed. "It's merely John and I. I do not need help from two girls who still act like teenagers." He turned to Mycroft. "And my client is?"
"Illustrious…" came a voice. Everyone turned to look at the woman who had just walked into the room. "…in the extreme." John stood up respectfully and Elizabeth and Parker hesitantly copied his actions. "And remaining – I have to inform you – entirely anonymous." She looked across to Mycroft and Wesley. "Mycroft! Wesley!"
Wesley nodded. "Faith." Smiling, he walked over and shook the Faith's hand.
Mycroft also went to shake her hand. "May I just apologise for the state of my little brother?"
"Full-time occupation, I imagine," said Faith. Sherlock scowled. "And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."
"Hello, yes."
They shook hands. Faith turned to Elizabeth. "Ms. Elizabeth Pennies, Wonder, a member of the Golden Trio." Elizabeth opened her mouth to deny it but Faith held up a hand. "No worries, everyone in this room knows it, and it shall not leave this room." Elizabeth nodded.
Faith stepped towards Parker. "Ms. Marie Kiehof, Nightingale, another member of the Golden Trio."
Faith walked closer to Sherlock as she spoke. "And Mr. Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs."
"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend." Looking round momentarily at John, he walked abruptly past him, forcing him to step back, and approached his brother. "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 looked round to Faith. "Good morning."
He started to walk out of the room but Mycroft stepped onto the trailing edge of the sheet behind him. Sherlock's impetus carried him forward while pulling the sheet off his body. He stopped and grabbed at it before he was completely naked and tried to tug it back around himself, looking furious. Parker and Elizabeth looked away somewhat embarrassed. "This is a matter of national importance," Mycroft said. "Grow up."
With his back still turned to his brother, Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth. "Get off my sheet!"
"Or what?"
"…Or I'll just walk away."
"I'll let you," said Mycroft calmly.
Luckily, John stepped in to save the day. "Boys, please. Not here." He glanced at Parker apologetically.
Sherlock was almost incandescent with rage. "Who. Is. My. Client?"
"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction," Mycroft said. "You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for Pete's sake…" He broke off and glanced at the Wesley briefly, trying to get his anger under control before he turned back to his brother again. "…put your clothes on!"
Sherlock closed his eyes furiously, then pulled in a sharp breath.
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Some time later, Sherlock had dressed and was sitting on the sofa again beside John. Mycroft, Wesley, and Faith sat in sone chairs that had been pulled up. Mycroft was pouring tea from a teapot. He looked at Faith and smiled. "I'll be mother," he said.
"And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell," Sherlock said pointedly. Mycroft glowered at him, then put the teapot down.
Faith looked at Sherlock. "My employer has a problem."
"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need," said Wesley, looking at Parker, "sister of mine, your name has arisen along with Mr. Holmes's here."
"Why?" Sherlock asked. "You obviously work along side my brother so you have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?"
"We came to all of you," Faith said, looking across the group, "people do come to you for help, don't they, Mr. Holmes? Ms. Pennies?"
"Not, to date, anyone with a Navy," Sherlock said.
"This is a matter of the highest security," said Mycroft, "and therefore of trust."
"You don't trust your own Secret Service?" Parker asked.
"Naturally not," answered Wesley. "They all spy on people for money." John bit back a smile as he exchanged glanced with Parker.
"I do think we have a timetable," said Faith.
"Yes, of course," Mycroft said. "Um…" He opened his briefcase, took out a glossy photograph and handed it to Sherlock who looked at the picture of Irene Adler. "What do you know about this woman?"
"Nothing whatsoever," Sherlock answered truthfully.
"Then you should be paying more attention. She's been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately."
"You know I don't concern myself with trivia. Who is she?"
"Irene Adler," Wesley answered, "professionally known as The Woman."
"Professionally?" Elizabeth asked.
"There are many names for what she does," said Mycroft. "She prefers 'dominatrix'."
"Dominatrix," Sherlock said thoughtfully.
"Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex." Parker coughed awkwardly and went scarlet red. Elizabeth looked around the room as if trying to avoid the subject. Wesley turned to Parker and raised an eyebrow at her reaction.
"Sex doesn't alarm me," Sherlock said.
Mycroft smiled snidely at him. "How would you know?" Sherlock raised his head and stared at his brother. Parker was a deep scarlet at this line and even Elizabeth was going pink. Mycroft ignored it. "She provides – shall we say – recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it." He took more photographs from his briefcase and handed them to Sherlock. "These are all from her website."
Sherlock took the photographs and leafed through them. They were professional-looking publicity shots for her 'services' and showed Irene at her glamorous best. "And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs," Sherlock said.
"You're very quick, Mr. Holmes," said Faith.
"Hardly a difficult deduction," he said. "Photographs of whom?"
"A person of significance to my employer," Faith replied. "We'd prefer not to say any more at this time."
Glaring at her angrily, Sherlock put the photographs down on the table. "You can't tell us anything?" John said.
"I can tell you it's a young person," Wesley replied. John drank from his teacup. "A young…female person." John's eyes widened.
Sherlock smirked. "How many photographs?
"A considerable number, apparently," Wesley said.
"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes, they do."
"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios."
"An imaginative range," Mycroft said, "we are assured."
Without looking round at him, Sherlock realised that John was staring blankly at Mycroft with his teacup still half raised. "John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now." John quickly did as was advised.
"Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?" Faith asked. She turned to Elizabeth and Parker. "Ms. Pennies?"
"How?" Elizabeth asked.
"Will you take the case?" wondered Faith.
"What case?" Sherlock asked. "Pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, 'Know when you are beaten'." He turned and reached for his overcoat which was draped on the back of the sofa.
"She doesn't want anything," Wesley said. Sherlock turned back towards him. "She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour."
Sherlock was finally interested for the first time about this case. "Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?"
"Sherlock…" John warned.
"Hmm." He turned around and reached for his coat again. "Where is she?"
"Uh, in London currently," Mycroft said. "She's staying–"
Not waiting for him to finish, Sherlock picked up his coat, stood, and started to walk away. "Text me the details. I'll be in touch by the end of the day." The other three men and Faith got to their feet. Elizabeth and Parker stood up quickly after.
Faith looked skeptical. "Do you really think you'll have news by then?" she asked.
Sherlock turned back to her. "No, I think I'll have the photographs."
"One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think."
Sherlock looked at her sharply, indignant that she should doubt him. Sherlock glanced down Faith's body, mentally rattling off deductions.
Dog Lover
Raises Goats
Horse Rider
Late Riser
Single
Gamer
Non-Smoker
Mother Half Welsh
Keen Reader
Tea Drinker
Sherlock looked across to Mycroft and Wesley. "I'll need some equipment, of course."
"Anything you require. Make sure you share information with Ms. Pennies and Ms. Kiehof. I'll have everything sent to–"
Sherlock turned to Faith and interrupted. "Can I have a box of matches?
"I'm sorry?" said Faith.
"Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do." He held out his hand expectantly.
"I don't smoke."
"No, I know you don't, but your employer does."
After a pause during which Parker, Elizabeth, and John frowned in puzzlement, Faith reached into her pocket and took out a lighter which she handed to Sherlock. "We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes."
"I'm not the Commonwealth." Taking the lighter and putting it into his trouser pocket, he turned away.
John turned to Faith. "And that's as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you." He glanced at Parker apologetically before following after Sherlock as he strolled out of the room.
"La'erz!" Sherlock called back.
John threw another apologetic glance over his shoulder as they left. Parker and Elizabeth looked at each other. "We should probably follow them," Parker suggested.
Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "Yeah, probably."
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Elizabeth and Parker stood around in their flat, waiting for any sign or indication if where the detective and the blogger were headed. Parker's phone trilled a text alert and she fished it out quickly. "It's John," she announced. Elizabeth looked up. "It says: Heading towards Ms. Adler's house. Care to join?" She looked up at Elizabeth, who grinned, and they rushed out of the flat, hailing a taxi.
After about ten minutes, Elizabeth glanced out of the cab window and saw what she thought looked a lot like Sherlock and John. Wait…it was them. "Just here please," she told the cabbie, and the car pulled over.
Parker looked towards her friend in confusion. "We're still two streets away," she said.
Elizabeth jerked her head towards where she spotted the two flatmates not far up the road. "I know; I just spotted your boyfriend," she said, smirking and emphasising the previous word, getting an eye roll and a sigh from Parker, "and his flatmate talking not too far up the street." She shrugged. "I supposed we should check it out." She started down the pavement with Parker right behind.
When they came near to where Sherlock and John were, they heard lots of scuffling, and this:
"Okay!" came a voice that clearly belonged to Sherlock. It was a bit hard to tell considering it sounded like he was being half-strangled. "I think we're done now, John."
"You wanna remember, Sherlock: I was a soldier. I killed people," came angry, slightly savage, unmistakably John's voice.
"You were a doctor!"
"I had bad days!"
Elizabeth and Parker rounded a corner to see that in the street, Sherlock was doubled over with John on his back half-strangling him. John's face was contorted with pent-up anger and frustration, and Sherlock was struggling to pull his hands off him. They both toppled over. Elizabeth couldn't help but snigger.
And with a slight smirk on her face and an amused look in her eyes, Parker's jaw slackened a bit. "Having fun, boys?" she eventually said.
The two men looked up at the two women and John immediately scrambled to his feet and tried to hopelessly cover up the situation. Sherlock stood up and brushed dirt off of his clothes. John cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly. "Oh! Heh…Parker, Elizabeth, hi. Erm…we, uh…we were just…well…um–"
Elizabeth laughed. "Okay, okay, no need to defend yourself," she said. "We should head off to Ms. Adler's house, shall we not?"
Sherlock scoffed. "You aren't going to come, how will we all get into her house? There are too many of us."
Parker thought about it for a moment. You could almost see the lightbulb go off above her head. "We were all going to the cinemas when we were confronted by a gang and we – mainly Sherlock here – were mugged."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "And why would we all be going to the cinemas? Such a feeble cover story won't work," he said irritably.
Parker pretended to think about it with exaggerated hand movements. "Hm…I dunno! Let's see…Well, there four of us: two guys, two girls. What do they call those things where guys and girls go the a movie together…hm. Oh! Yes! A date! Ah, yes, that'll be our cover story! We were going on a double date."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at her friend. "But…you would be paired up with John, obviously…" Her eyes slowly crossed over to look at Sherlock.
Parker sighed. "For goodness sake, Elizabeth, it isn't real! Don't worry!" As they began to walk off, she muttered, "I just hope I still have acting skills left over from when I was a teen."
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An intercom buzzed. A woman – Kate – went downstairs and activated it, looking at the camera footage from the front door. "Hello?"
Sherlock stared into the camera wide-eyed and flustered. He spoke in an anxious, tearful voice and kept looking around behind him as he was talking. "Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I was heading to the cinemas with, uh, my…er…friends here and we've just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they…they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?"
Kate was trying to hold back her laughter as she had been listening to him. "I can phone the police if you want," Kate said.
"Thank you," Sherlock said tearfully, "thank you! Could you, please?" He took a step back. "Oh, would you…would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much." Holding a handkerchief to his cheek, he started to grizzle pathetically. Grinning, Kate buzzed him in. Sherlock came in, followed by the others. Elizabeth was being supported by Parker because of her scraped knee. Sherlock remained in character. "Thank you," he said. "He briefly looked around the large entrance hall. "Er, ooh!"
John closed the door once they were all inside. "I – I was there when it happened," he said. "It's okay, we're doctors," he said, gesturing towards Parker. Kate nodded. "Now, have you got a first aid kit?" John asked.
"In the kitchen," answered Kate. She gestured for Sherlock and Elizabeth to go into the front room. "Please," she insisted.
"Oh!" Sherlock said. "Thank you!"
"Thank you," said Parker. She and John followed Kate as she headed for the kitchen.
Tada! Tell me what you think! :D