AN: a little bit more, as I have been horrible with updates…(plus, I have most of this one written)… enjoy. Please, review and let me know if this dynamic has become completely OFF. As always, anything resembling ACD's stuff is ACD's stuff.

Chapter 2

            It was already 6:15 and I still wasn't ready. I groaned inwardly as I wrestled with nude colored pantyhose. It had taken me some time to find something halfway decent to wear that didn't smell like mothballs. I finally decided on a form fitting burgundy dress that had a lacey black overlay. It had been awhile since I got dressed up for a night out- especially on an opening night. The last time I remember going to something like this was with James.

            The rapid knock on my door jolted me out of my thoughts. I quickly adjusted my hose and smoothed out the creases in my dress. Walking over to the door, I opened it. It was Holmes, trimly dressed in a sharply creased suit. Even his usually messy hair was neat.

            I was impressed. "You clean up pretty good." It was definitely an understatement. He was hot.

            He smiled wanly. "I know. So are you ready?"

            A fancy suit still couldn't hide the ego. I shook my head. "Hold on, I need to get some shoes." I picked out a pair of chunky black heels to match and grabbed my purse.

            "So, what do you think?" I nervously asked Holmes, gesturing to my outfit.

            "Stop fishing for compliments, Watson. You look fine." He seemed a bit impatient.

            I took the hint and said nothing further as I locked the door behind us, following Holmes down the long hallway towards the elevator.

            We arrived at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion a good twenty minutes before the opera was scheduled to start. Holmes pulled his car into a parking space and turned off the engine. He then got out of the car and strolled over to the passenger door, opening it. Like the perfect gentlemen, Holmes then offered me his arm.

I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer as I took it. "Holmes, is there anything you want me to do?"

             "Just be yourself, Watson. Enjoy yourself tonight. I'll tell you about this case later," he assured.

            I sighed in defeat, knowing how stubborn he could be. Turning my attention to my surroundings, I realized just how incredible this whole night was. All of Los Angeles' elite had turned up for opening night; photographers for the society pages were busy taking pictures of everyone making small talk in the courtyard, decked out in their finest evening wear, scattered in groups around the beautiful fountain. I was beginning to feel incredibly underdressed and out of place.

            Holmes sensed my nervousness. "Relax. Just blend in," he tried to reassure me as we entered the building.

            I managed a small smile. It was easy for him; he was used to this undercover stuff. "Find who you were looking for?" I couldn't resist prying as his piercing gaze seemed to focus on two men talking animatedly under the main chandelier. One of them looked vaguely familiar.

            After a few moments, he turned to smile at me, seemingly satisfied. "Let's go find our seats."

            Then it dawned on me just how lucky I was. I was here to see Carmen! And third row orchestra! Hearing Placido Domingo live! My curiosity about Holmes' investigation could take a backseat to that for a while.