Well folks, I'm afraid I have some bad news. My parents have recently decided to get rid of our wifi and go back to dial-up (*sigh*). So I don't know when I'll be able to get the next chapter up, and I don't know when exactly they plan on having it turned off. Just know that I will keep writing and hopefully it won't be long before I post again. I want to thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews, they really mean the world to me! *Hugs for you all!*

~J.


Jayne was bundled up in a large down-filled coat of an almost apoplectic purple color and a pair of jeans under which she had pulled on a pair of leggings just for an extra layer of warmth. Her sweater under the coat was a deep forest green and there was a plain white turtleneck under it. And she was still frozen. "Dammit, where are we going now, Molly?" she whined, wincing at herself.

Molly just laughed, dragging Jayne by the wrist to another shop in the street that seemed to be lined with them. "Only a few more shops, Jayne. Besides, you still have yet to find gifts for everyone. Do you know what you're going to get for Sherlock yet?" Molly asked, as they stepped out of the cold, windy winter day into the bright warmth of one of Jayne's favorite stores, it was filled with deliciously scented soaps, oils, shampoos, conditioners, candles and other bath and body goodies. She so badly wanted to whip out that card of Mycroft's and take one of everything home.

She smiled and did manage to find a way to motion the shopkeeper over, keeping an eye on Molly. When she saw that Molly had made her way back to a beautifully carved gift basket filled with rosemary and mint scented bath items, Jayne surreptitiously slipped her credit card to the saleswoman to wrap it up and have it delivered to the apartment the next day. Finally, still looking back at the divine gift set, Molly and Jayne left the shop.

The next shop was a beautiful book shop and Jayne smiled, she knew she'd find something for Mycroft here. And she was right, in a corner under a large volume of Shakespeare, Jayne found a beautiful silver and crystal pen and inkwell. It had holders for two pens and two beautiful crystal ink bottles that shone brightly. She knew Mycroft would love it for his desk. She picked it up and carried it to the counter. Something she saw made her stop and smile, and she picked it up as well, it would be perfect for Sherlock.

She made polite conversation with the clerk while he rung up her purchase. As she and Molly were leaving the shop, her phone rang. Jayne smiled as it showed who was calling. "Hello, Mycroft! Was just thinking about you!"

"Hello Jayne, dear. How's the Christmas shopping going?" Mycroft's voice said from the phone.

Jayne grinned. "It's going quite well. And I know you have people following me. If they tell you what I got you for Christmas, I'll never forgive you. It's a surprise!"

She heard him sigh and it made her smile. "Very well, then. I do have a small favor to ask, Jayne. Though I'm not a particular fan of the holidays, I'm afraid I have to host a small Christmas party here at home. I was wondering if you would be willing to serve as my hostess for the evening? It's a rather fancy affair, I know you're not fond of those, (And she hadn't been since he'd dragged her to one a month ago and she'd nearly tripped one of the masses of waiters in the room, thoroughly embarrassing both of them) but I only ask because there's no one else I can ask. Mother's away for the holiday."

Jayne frowned. She shifted from foot to foot. She sighed. And finally, she agreed. "Okayyy. But if I trip another waiter, that's it, I'm never doing anything like this again, understand?"

"Perfectly. Thank you, dear." And then he was gone.

Jayne glared at the phone before flipping it shut and shoving it in her pocket. "Damn." she grumbled. "Molly! We have to go find a dress!" she told her friend, and began to explain why she needed a fancy dress.

Three days later, it was time for the party and Jayne was in one of the upstairs guest bedrooms getting ready. She looked at herself in the mirror, and nodded. The dress was a stunning midnight blue that fell in a waterfall of gauzy layered fabric to her knees. It was held up by silver-beaded spaghetti straps and the back was corseted with silver ribbon. Her jewelry was simple: the ring Sherlock had given her to replace the one she'd lost, small sapphire studs in her ears, and a beautiful silver hair comb that Mycroft had given her as an early Christmas present and thanks for acting as hostess for this shindig. Jayne had to admit, it was beautiful, done in a flower motif and studded with sapphires. Though how he'd known the color of her dress is something she really didn't want to know. Her hair was partially pulled up in a bun and secured with the hair comb, the rest fell down her back in a cascade of soft ringlets and curls.

She stepped carefully into the shoes she had bought, a pair of lovely sapphire-colored strappy heels. She was glad the heels weren't too high, she didn't feel like tottering around on stilettos all night long. She buckled them into place, and just to be devilish, put a lovely silver anklet around one ankle. She checked herself one last time in the mirror and nodded to herself. She looked okay.

She walked out of the room, closing it and locking it behind her with the key that Mycroft had given her. She walked towards the stairs and felt nervous as she began to come down them. She was surprised to see Mycroft, John (looking rather dashing in his uniform) and Sherlock waiting for her. What she truly didn't expect were their expressions. John was slack-jawed and Mycroft was smiling a real smile. But Sherlock. Sherlock was what took her breath away. He looked proud! He stepped up to taker her arm and placed it on his own, leading her down the stairs careful of her heels.

He leaned over and whispered into her ear, "You are stunning, Jayne." There was a tinge of awe in his voice. "Thank you. You clean up nicely yourself," she whispered back. And it was true. He was wearing a very nice suit in navy blue, not quite the same shade as Jayne's dress. The shirt under the jacket was a lovely shade of dark plum. He didn't wear a tie, which Jayne had to admit she liked being able to see that small triangle of skin at his throat (that she couldn't stop imagining nibbling on).

Mycroft cleared his throat, causing Jayne and Sherlock to stare at him blankly. "Forgive me, brother dear, but Jayne is my hostess tonight. And since the party is about to begin, I'm afraid I'm going to have to borrow her."

Sherlock grumbled under his breath but gently placed Jayne's hand in Mycroft's...for the time being. He fully intended to reclaim her once the greetings and introductions were finished, and he was terribly glad that Mycroft had placed him next to Jayne, it would make the evening slightly bearable. The only reason he was even here was because Jayne had insisted that he, John, Molly and Greg Lestrade had been invited as well.

Sherlock had to admit that even though he knew Jayne was rather pretty, he hadn't expected the vision she was tonight. The dark blue dress made her skin luminous, the silver drew the eye to the slim lines of her neck and the curve of her breasts. Her hair was a mass of oak-brown curls that shone in the light of the chandeliers. He had to smile when he saw that even with the rest of the fancy jewelry she had on, she still had on the ring that he'd given her.

He and John followed Jayne and Mycroft to the foyer where a butler was waiting for the guests to arrive. A number of waiters were waiting in the wings to pass out hors d'oerves and glasses of champagne. He saw Jayne eyeing a glass of champagne, probably wanting something to calm her nerves, he reasoned. She really did hate events like these. They mostly bored Sherlock. Though he had deduced some rather interesting information over the years from some of these people who lived the high life.

The door was knocked upon, the first guest had arrived. Sherlock saw Jayne take a sharp breath and let it out and plaster a smile on her face. He was proud of her, he admitted to himself. As terrified as she was of crowds and of embarrassing herself or Mycroft, she still stood there waiting to greet guests as though she had done it her entire life.

A half-hour later, the party was well under way, and Jayne felt herself finally begin to relax. She was sipping on the single glass of champagne she'd allowed herself. She'd been so glad when Molly had show up with Greg. Molly had looked rather lovely in a black dress with silver piping, though Jayne wished Molly had let her do her hair, it was pulled back into an odd updo and pinned with a red flower. It clashed a little with the dress. And her makeup was a bit too heavy. Molly needed to stick with softer colors.

Sighing, Jayne leaned against a wall and watched the gathering. A small 6-piece band was squished into one corner of a ballroom and couples were dancing, gliding across the floor. People stood in small groups discussing investments and politics. Like a prom, there was a backdrop against a wall where you could have your picture taken. Mycroft had already subjected her to that horror.

She noticed a commotion by the doorway to the kitchen and decided to investigate. One of the guests, who obviously hadn't limited himself to just one glass of champagne, had one of the waitresses backed up against a counter, brandishing a knife. He was pressing himself against the young woman, bending her back against the counter. The girl was begging him to leave her alone and let her do her job, but he just grasped her breasts in one meaty hand, tapping the blade of the knife against the button of her trousers.

Jayne cleared her throat loudly to get his attention. He turned his attention to her and she remembered his name. "There you are, Thomas. I believe you promised me a dance, didn't you?" she said, trying to end this politely without violence.

He scoffed. "Go 'way. Busy here." He gripped his crotch, rubbing it. "Will get to you later. Now go 'way." He turned back to the terrified girl.

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that, Thomas. You see, you're scaring my help. I can't have that. Now I'm going to have to ask you nicely to come back out and join the party." Jayne said, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling the anger starting to flood her system. Why did some people have to be idiots and get drunk and ruin a perfectly good party?

He grunted and turned towards her, raising the knife menacingly. She simply raised an eyebrow at him. He shouted when the young waitress ran out of the room, probably to find her supervisor and tell him what was going on in the kitchen. Jayne simply stared at Thomas and held her hand out for the knife.

"Hand it over, Thomas. You're embarrassing yourself and you'll be lucky if charges aren't pressed." she said evenly.

"She won't do n'thing. I didn't do n'thing. Ish my word agains' hers. Who d'you thing police 're gon b'lieve? Some two-bit piece of arse, or a fine gentleman like *hiccup* me?" He grinned at her and she felt her pissed-off level reach a boiling point. He still brandished the knife at her but she simply grabbed the nearest object-a stainless steel skillet- and whacked him with it as hard as she could in the arm.

Thomas screamed in pain, dropping the knife. "You bitch!" he screamed, lunging for her. He was pretty inebriated and by simply moving out of the way, he managed to launch himself into the front of the wall-ovens and was thrown backwards. He stood up, weaving on his unsteady feet, and raised his fist to hit her. Jayne was madder than she could ever remember being and without a thought, sent her fist cracking into the man's jaw, knocking him out cold. She stood over his prone body and winced at the pain that was coursing through her poor hand.

Suddenly Sherlock was there, as was Lestrade and John. They'd seen the entire thing and Jayne blushed, knowing they'd watched her hit a man with a skillet. John grinned at her. "Remind me never to make you mad when there are cooking implements nearby."

Sherlock simply took her hand and began to pull her out of the kitchen, leaving Lestrade and John to deal with Thomas. Jayne was nervous for some reason and was quite shocked when Sherlock pulled them out onto the dance floor. She was amazed when he began to lead in a rather passionate tango. "Sherlock, you dance?" she said, a smile gracing her face.

He smirked, "Lessons as a child." he nodded and began to move them around the room, under the watchful eyes of Mycroft. When the dance ended, everyone clapped for Sherlock and Jayne, he was truly a marvelous dancer. Jayne looked at Sherlock. "Can we go home now? I'm ready for some sleep after all this excitement." Sherlock nodded and led the way out. Mycroft nodded goodnight to them. As they walked out, they saw Thomas being loaded into a waiting police car, Lestrade himself talking to the officer in charge. Thomas glared at her murderously and she merely waved at him and smiled.

Jayne was never so happy to be home. To her surprise, Sherlock insisted on helping her out of the dress, unzipping the back for her and making her blush as he pressed soft kisses along the back of her neck and spine. But that was as far as Jayne was comfortable with, for tonight. So they climbed into bed, Jayne cuddle against Sherlock, and both of them dreamed sweet dreams of the other.