The Silent Banker
A Hypothetical Silence
A few minutes after she had …well…rejected him, Rose looked up, smiling at what she saw. Sherlock was still sat at the computer, frowning deeply, and looking a little lost.
"Sherlock," She called, and his head snapped up, eyes meeting. "If you want something from somebody, ask for it." She spoke as though she were teaching him. The thought boggled her mind.
He frowned a little more. Ask? He was once again reminded that he didn't understand her, but from the tone of her voice it was as though she was trying to teach him something. A lesson in societal norms? Oh, how he hated those, he never got them right. "Will you go on a date with me?" He asked, the question more of whether he got the phrase right, rather than the meaning behind the words.
"You may want to revise you definition of date." She suggested.
But…"John said-"
"John made an implication which I think you may have missed." She was right there, though he'd never say so. He hadn't caught any implication in John's words at all. "A date is where two people who like each other romantically go out and have fun." She rephrased.
He frowned, he didn't like her like that. She was just a flatmate, someone who kept him company on cases. She was just his little puzzle. He quickly rephrased his question.
"Will you go on a hypothetical date with me?" That way they were still undercover, but they both knew where they stood.
At his latest question she laughed a little, mainly at him looking so lost and confused. Like a small child trying to get the right answer, she mused.
"It would be my pleasure, Mr Holmes." She said getting up off the sofa.
Happy that the strange lesson was over, he also got up, grabbed his coat and ran out the door to hail a cab. He vaguely noticed a new coat in the hall as he passed it, but paid it no mind. In the cab however, he noticed that Rose was now wearing the coat, a different one from her usual shorter coat.
"You knew." He accused, though she knew it wasn't in much of a serious way.
"Of course I knew! Why else would I recommend John take his girl to the circus. It wasn't because it was a good idea." She gave him a stern look, but he didn't know why.
"How long did you know?" He was curious now, as he usually was around her. He didn't understand her, and therefore couldn't predict what she would do most of the time, but he was getting there - slowly but surely, he thought irritably.
"Since you ripped off the corner of that poster."
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Well, I didn't know exactly what you were planning, but I knew you were up to something." She said, but his brow only went a little higher. He wanted her to elaborate. Another test, she thought dryly. "You don't seem the type to go to a Chinese circus, and we are investigating Chinese smugglers."
He only huffed in reply as they pulled up along side the building. Paying the driver, he got out and actually waited for her, thinking it would only be proper if they were on a "date." He wasn't completely new at all this after all, though apparently new enough to go stock still when she looped her arm through his. Though knowing he would do something like that, she pulled him along, getting him to start moving.
"What are you doing?" He asked, and she held back a chuckle at the slightly panicky undertone to his voice.
"A hypothetical date is only hypothetical to those in on the plan. Anyone else would expect us to actually act like we are on a date." She explained.
He thought for a moment, then realised what she had said. "And how would you know?" He asked, curious again.
"Well I have been on dates before, Sherlock, both real and hypothetical. I know how they go." She replied.
This puzzled him more though. "Why would you go on a hypothetical date?" He knew they were on one at the moment, but this was police - ish - work. As they came to the door, he unhooked their arms and opened it for her, getting a small smile for his efforts. It seemed his was learning quick enough. He also had an idea, and instead of letting her hook their arms again, he just guided her, a hand on the small of her back, noting with small, childish vengeance how she tensed up at the contact; he knew she was just as uncomfortable with human contact.
"It's a woman thing." She said, smiling a little.
A woman thing? If he had trouble understanding society and how it worked, then woman things were completely out of his realm of understanding. He took a little comfort in the fact that most men seemed at a loss at woman things though.
Just as they got to the ticket stand they heard John's confused voice.
"… we only booked two."
"Then I phoned up and got a couple for us as well." Sherlock said. "I'm Sherlock." He said, offering his hand to John's date.
"Rose." She offered with a small smile.
"Umm, this is Sarah." said John looking at them closely. Sherlock shook Sarah's hand, but as he stepped back, Rose looped her arm through his. They're acting like a couple, he thought dumbly. Why? "I thought you two were staying in tonight?"
"Oh, that's my fault, actually." Rose said. "I saw the poster Sherlock got to show you and thought it would be a good evening… and well, I haven't been to a circus since I was little, and well… it was only here for one night…" She looked so sad, John nearly said it was no problem and they could stay. Then he shook himself, that's exactly what she wants! They aren't even a couple! "But its ok, come on, Sherlock… sorry for intruding. Um, enjoy your evening…" She muttered, looking even more sad and dejected.
Sherlock knew what she was doing, and went with it, letting her pull him away from the doctor and his date. But just as they turned around they heard a female voice speak up, making them stop.
"No, wait. I'm sure John doesn't mind, do you John?" She looked at him, a slightly pleading look in her eyes.
John sighed. He was stuck. If he turned them away, Sarah wouldn't forget it and not go out with him again. If he let them stay, bad things were going to happen, he was sure of it. He looked away from Sarah and smiled at his troublesome flatmates.
"Of course. Stay." He plastered a smile on his face, but his eyes were hard as he looked at Rose and Sherlock one by one. "The more the merrier."
Rose immediately brightened up. "Thanks John, you really are a good friend. You wont even know we're here."
John just smiled and guided Sarah into the show room.
As they turned away, Rose looked up to Sherlock grinning.
"Oh, your good." He said in a low voice so only she would hear.
"Oh, I know." She replied cheekily.
He just smirked and followed Johns lead, guiding his "date" into the main room.
They gathered around a marked out circle, John and Sherlock talking quietly about art and day jobs, the women studiously ignoring them. A drum beat started, the crowd quietened down and they all turned to see what was happening.
A woman dressed in mostly red and white slowly made her way to the circle in time to the drum beat, then crossed it to take off a satin sheet, revealing what looked to be an large, oriental cross bow. She loaded the contraption with a large, feathery bolt. Taking a feather from her hair, she let it fall onto a dish, releasing the bolt, sending it sailing towards a man sized board of thick wood.
The crowd jumped at the sudden noise from the impact, and as they clapped, one man took the arrow out of the board. A few seconds later, another performer stepped forward, dressed in what looked like oriental war armour. He was then attached to the board by two other men.
"Classic Chinese escapology act." Sherlock whispered in Roses ear, a little too close for her liking. "The cross bow's on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires."
A loud gong was hit, making Sarah jump, and she discreetly latched herself to John, making him clear his throat, and making Rose smirk as she watched the two.
"She split's the sand bag, the sand pours out, gradually the weight lowers into the bowl." Sherlock narrated, still too close. She became aware of where he was without even looking at him, and she didn't like her personal space being invaded, though she tried not to show it.
The crowd watched as the weight lowered, inch by inch, and the man chained to the board struggled and grunted with the effort of trying to escape. As the weight got dangerously close to the bowl, Rose's eyes widened a little and she chewed her lip in anticipation. Just as the bolt was released, the warrior fell to the floor and both women let out a relived breath. John just shook his head and commented on how it was a close one.
However, as she went to clap her hands with the rest of the crowd, Rose felt a small tug of her sleeve, and looked up to see Sherlock pulling her into the shadows. They slipped away unnoticed, using the bustle in the small, relived crowd as cover for their get away.
Finding their way back stage, they looked around for anything they could use as evidence. Sherlock pulled back a curtain so he could see the performance and saw a man using two long strips of material to hang in mid air, doing tricks and such for the audience.
"Well, well." He heard a door close however, and grabbed Rose by the arm, pulling them behind a rack of costumes.
Peeking through the coloured clothes, they saw the hostess enter the area and pick up her phone, but they had accidentally moved a hanger on the rack, and she looked up, moments after they ducked down, hiding from sight.
Hearing her move away to another room, Sherlock got out of the cramped hiding place, uncomfortable from being so tall and being in such a small space. Looking around he tried to find out something useful. Rose however had not moved, having found a bag of half a dozen yellow spray paints. Picking one up, she stood and went over to the light, seeing it was the same yellow as the graffiti.
"Sherlock." She called in a whisper and as he turned to her, she threw the can to him. He caught it, looked at it for a minute, then turned to the mirror, spraying a line onto its reflective surface. She saw a half smile tug at his lips in the mirror, but then caught movement in her peripheral vision. Turning, she saw the warrior from earlier move towards Sherlock with a machete, just as he muttered "found you."
"Sherlock!" She exclaimed quietly, warning him of the man behind him, and just in time it seemed, as Sherlock spun out of the way of a slash of the blade. Turning back, Sherlock hit the back of the mans hand, knocking the blade to the floor. He kicked it into a dark corner, but the time taken to do that had left him vulnerable to attack, and the man kicked his feet from under him, dropping the detective to the floor.
The warrior leant over Sherlock to punch him in the face, but as he drew back his fist, something large and heavy hit him across the back, sending him flying to the floor. Sherlock looked up to see Rose - looking both scared and angry - with the remains of a broken chair she had picked up from the dresser unit. Throwing the splintered wood to the floor, she helped Sherlock up, only for them both to be tackled, causing all three of them to fly threw the curtains and land on the floor of the main hall.
The warrior, being the first to recover, pulled a large knife from his belt and started towards Sherlock's crumpled form on the floor - he had taken most of the impact. But Rose, seeing her friends situation again, leapt forward, only to get pushed back, earning a slice across her cheek along the way.
John snapped out of his shock then, realising that both his friends were in danger - one having been pushed away, the other being winded - rushed forward to take on the warrior, only to get kicked in the ribs, sending him flying into the stage with a groan of pain.
The warrior had finally made his way over to Sherlock and leant over to stab him in the torso, when Sarah, who had got hold of a large metal rod - from where she got it, no one knew - ran up to the warriors back and beat him repeatedly with it. He fell to the floor with a cry of pain, muffled by his mask.
Sherlock, seeing the man on the floor, pulled off his slipper, revealing the black flower sitting in a black circle, tattooed on the mans heel. The detective let out a cough through his smile and got up off the hard floor. Looking around her saw Rose help John up, asking him if he was alright, to which he nodded clutching his ribs. The women helped John move quicker out of the building as they made their escape.