Author's Note: I can't believe how much you all are enjoying the story as much as I am writing it. It's been incredible to work on such an incredible project, for an incredible franchise. Now all that's left for me to do is wait for the third film to be released, which might not be for a while because of COVID-19, and we can't have our favourite detective and doctor catching a virus now, can we?
I know you have all been wondering why I have been updating less frequently lately, well, it's because me and MissPoisonousLove on Tumblr, are working on the Adlock story I've been promising to write -Surprise! That will be uploaded once we have a decent amount of chapters.
Once more thing before we proceed; I want to give a little credit to MistroStrings, whose fanfiction, Buried With Shadows, inspired me to write this chapter. :)
"I still do not understand why you simply won't cancel the summit," Watson said to Mycroft as we sat around the dining room table, enjoying a meal, the first decent meal we've had in a long time -No offense to the hedgehog goulash! The potatoes were warm and the steak was cooked to perfection, so I was proud to call this my last meal. Or maybe, by some miracle, we would all survive this; yes, that was the one thing on my mind at this exact moment, well, I should say it had been on my mind ever since we had embarked on this unexpected journey, one that took me all across Europe; Jane was right, it was much more thrilling than going to Aunt Daisy's house and sitting all day in the big mansion.
Mycroft set down his silverware. "The fact is it's gonna happen whether we like it or not. Everyone has already arrived, while gentlemen may be talking peace, believe me they're readying their armies at home. To cancel the summit now, would be tentamental war." I didn't want to believe that there would be another war; Jane and I exchanged a look and she had to turn her face away so I couldn't see how pale she was getting. The chances of Grandfather being recruited back into the army were far too great, and chances would be that my father and Uncle Charlie would have to go, too. And Watson as well.
"The telegram, wasn't it clear?" Watson asked the elder Holmes, leaning across the table.
"We have double the security, sir," Carruthers informed us while he set a fresh pot of tea down on the table. I raised my cup to my lips and took an eager sip, it was still hot, I could see the clouds of steam coming off of it, but it soothed the cold feeling in my chest and I relaxed just a little.
"Oh, doubled security? That's comforting," Simza said, sarcastically.
"You don't understand the delicacy in this situation. I passed the telegram on to my superiors, But they were the ones who have brought Moriarty to advice on the peace process in the first place. He has positioned himself brilliantly as one of our foremost intellectuals, he's a personal friend of-"
"The Prime Minister; Yes, we all know that," I said annoyed.
"I believe you and Doctor Watson, Miss Berkeley, but where's your evidence?" Mycroft asked. I looked to the others and shrugged, that was a good point. No one, not even the police were going to believe us without proof.
Watson leaned closer to Mycroft and whispered, "He's too good to leave evidence. He doesn't leave loose ends."
"Sherly, put that down!" Mycroft ordered as Holmes took some sort of breathing machine out of his mouth.
"What is this contraption? May I have it? The effect is most invigorating."
"It is my private and personal supply of oxygen and you're not to touch it," said Mycroft, firmly, as his brother set the contraption down on the nearby table and waved his hand to show us that he didn't have the device anymore as Mycroft continued. "This argument is getting us nowhere. I've arranged documents to be prepared which will allow you into the ball."
"Stanley? Stanely!" Holmes shouted at the elder butler, but the man didn't reply nor made an attempt to acknowledge him at all. "You haven't aged a day." We glanced at each other, smiling and I could slowly feel the tightening in my chest going away.
Well, at least I can count on you to make me smile, even if the world is coming to an end.
"The fact is we don't really know what he's planning," Mycroft said, ignoring his brother momentarily and I turned my attention back to the conversation.
"It wouldn't be another bomb," I replied, hopefully.
"It won't be another bomb," Simza agreed, as if reassuring me.
"That doesn't make sense. Why would he attack all nations, only to unite them?" Watson asked.
"It will be an assassination. By a lone gunman at close range," Holmes replied as he stared at Simza.
"Rene," She and Jane said at the same time.
"Unfortunately, yes," replied Holmes.
Simza stared at him accusingly. "You knew."
"Well at least we know who to look out for," said Mycroft.
"Rene will be the evidence," I stated.
"If we can find him and stop him we'll not only save his life but prevent the collapse of western civilization. No pressure," Holmes said, nonchalantly, coming to sit beside me and I involuntarily straightened up. "I haven't eaten anything all day," he added digging into the dish and at least once, our hands brushed against each other under the table.
I can't do this. I just can't.
I paced back and forth in a guest bedroom, trying to calm my nerves. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't calm down. Not only was I supposed to dance, even if I had a little bit of experience now, but we had to save the world from impending doom. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Startled, I jumped back and stood there frozen for a while, before I heard someone's footsteps shuffling on the other side of the door.
"Charlotte?" a voice said, a little bit muffled. I thought I recognized her voice, so I went to open it, seeing Simza standing there, wearing her red dress and her hair was pinned up in loose curls. She looked absolutely stunning, but in her eyes, I could still see the soul of a courageous gypsy woman who would stop at nothing to be reunited with her beloved brother. "No offense, but I don't think that nightgown will be suitable for an evening out."
"Haha!" I laughed humorlessly.
"I know you've had more important things on your mind, but not to worry, I will have you cleaned up in seconds. First, where is your dress?" Her eyes shifted to the coat hook where my dress was hanging; once we made the switch from my nightgown to a corset, then put the dress over it, things were looking a lot better. "Second, we need to tame that wild hair of yours."
I did so and then surrendered to let myself be poked and pinched and my tangled hair brushed. I usually didn't like being handled this way, but I knew better than to complain, so I sat there, wincing if there was a difficult knot and there were plenty of them, Mother would certainly have been shocked to see my appearance, she probably would have fainted, (She did that a lot. You should have seen her when our old cat, Peridot, brought home a mouse from who knows where and dropped it at her feet. The cat was so concerned, that she started trying to wake her up by licking her and meowing loudly, and it seemed to work! )
After a little while, the knots were all out of my hair and my scalp hurt, like someone had grabbed my hair by the roots and yanked it in an endless game of tug of war where the loser was clearly me. I was thankful when they finally moved on to my face. I couldn't see what I looked like since they covered the mirror with a sheet, they told me it was part of the process. What felt like forever later, Jane told me they were finished and Mary pulled the sheet back so that I could see myself in the mirror. I looked into it and I couldn't believe it. Who was this strange person looking back at me? My eyes were lined and shadowed; my lashes looked longer and my lips were redder, so were my cheeks. I could hardly recognize the woman in the mirror.
"You look radiant," Simza said as soon as the transformation had finally been complete, taking my hands and helped me to my feet; I was wearing these heeled shoes that took a little while to get the hang of walking in, but once I was able to stabilize myself, I was happy with the results.
Just then, I heard giggling behind her. Half of Jane's hair was done up in a bun and the rest hung down in ringlets. She also had some bangs. She wore dusty rose lipstick and some blush tinted her cheeks and she was beaming with pride. "Well, look who finally decided to clean up, and let me just say it, you smell better than you did this morning. Now he won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."
"Who?" I asked, smiling coyly.
"You know who; Simza has told me how much you adore his warm, melting eyes, his smooth, deep voice, and his outrageously attractive bod-"
"I did not say anything about that, because as far as I know she hasn't seen anything," Simza said putting her palms up in surrender, "Are you sure you are not attracted to him, and your sister isn't?"
"Of course not!" Jane put a hand to her heart, offended that someone would presume her to be harbouring feelings for another man while in a courtship. "William is my one and only."
"I'm just saying, he's physically pleasing and I don't blame you for thinking that."
Jane ignored her last statement. "Lottie, there's no point in denying it, you are in love and all of us know it. And your children? They'll be beautiful and smart."
"Wait, who said anything about children?!" Simza laughed, but then looked to me. "Now that you think about it, dark hair and blue eyes is a lovely combination. The child will be breaking hearts before they even know it."
"One, we are not having children," I stated. "at least not for a long time; and two, don't call me 'Lottie'."
"Would you rather us call you Mrs Holmes?" If there was ever a time when I wanted to slap my sister, it was now; I was already on edge and didn't need my sister's constant teasing. Then again, maybe she was scared, too and was just trying to take my mind off of all the stress. I huffed to control my rising temper. I just wanted to get this whole thing over with so that we could all come back safe and sound and there would be no need for Mother and Father to worry about us anymore.
"Speaking of, we should go downstairs, the boys will be waiting for us."
We were gathered in the lobby of Mycroft's house at nearly twenty minutes until nine. The men were waiting just downstairs in very nice and elegant suits, even Holmes cleaned up a bit and combed his hair; when I shifted my gaze to him, and his eyes met with mine, they widened and his mouth was slightly hanging. ''Good lord, you're beautiful,'' he mumbled under his breath.
Flattery was well received and reciprocated. My eyes glanced over his suit. Black and snugly pressed to his body, one could tell the well-made figure that lay beneath the tuxedo. A smooth, white bowtie hugged his neck, but the main eye-catcher was the red sash draped smoothly across his torso. He looked like a proper English gentleman; something I had never seen him appear as through all of our days. "I can say the same to you, Mister Holmes."
"Shall we?" Holmes asked and extended his arm towards me, smiling.
''Yes, we shall,'' I smiled back and took his arm and two of us locked eyes; my dress, while visually appealing, it was a bit more revealing than I would have liked it to be and my mother would have probably said the same, but for some reason, I felt confident in it; it was a tad too long on the bottom and the sleeves were a bit too short for the cold wind, so I used one of Mycroft's scarves as a shawl and we were out the door and in the carriage.
"Don't worry, everything will be fine," Holmes whispered. I nodded and then looked out the window again. I couldn't keep still, the muscles in my legs were crawling. I needed to stand, I needed to move. I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand being in this carriage. The only thing that comforted me was the fact that this would all be over shortly and we could go back home. I would see my mother and father again. Did I regret signing up for this suicide mission? I wouldn't be certain until the end of the night.
Once we arrived at the ball, the butterflies didn't leave, in fact, they only fluttered more fiercely in my chest and it wasn't due to the fact that we were playing a dangerous game and could probably die. I was more nervous now than when we were shot at while trying to get on the train here. The nagging voice was loudly reminding me of the impending doom, and telling me that there was a possibility I would never see my family again after this; I could picture my mother and father kneeling helplessly over the graves of me and my sister, and my mind trucked me into hearing their broken cries in the wind, and it made my heart ache, but as hard as it was, I wanted to remain optimistic, so I gritted my teeth and shook my head, taking a deep breath as I stepped out of the carriage into the open winter air.
I would never forget how the snow fell, floating through the breeze and in the moonlight like tiny dancers, as if a child had turned this street into their own personal snow globe and decided to shake it. I had to blink a couple of times because they would land on my eyelashes. I looked up at the light coming from inside the palace and looked down at my dress. If there was ever a Cinderella moment, this was it, especially when Holmes, my Prince Charming, crooked his arm to me. I took it and the two of us entered the building among a flurry of people.
While we walked up the snow-covered steps, I felt his gaze and looked up at him. "Is something wrong?" I asked, leaning in just a little as a little shiver ran down my spine.
"Just admiring the view," he replied, a small smile played at his lips. His voice was warm and rich; my heart beat faster and once again, I found myself blushing and smiling as he leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. I could feel my heart beating in my throat, was that normal? I turned my head to say something, but then his lips brushed mine. At first innocently, like a tease, and in response I smiled and refused to give in, but then it escalated but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding and I was no longer in control of my own body. Both of us wanted to pull away before we could lose ourselves but we just couldn't, my senses had been seduced and I could no longer think straight.
"Charlotte," he whispered slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor them. I smiled weakly, my heart fluttering at his voice as I clasped my gloved hands on either side of his face. Never before had my name ever felt so wonderful a one. People were passing us, but I had my eyes closed so that I couldn't see their reactions, nor did I care. I was aware of the twisting of my insides, the warming of my skin, and soft whispers escaping my lips as the kiss deepened.
"We don't have much time," I whispered, gasping for breath and placing my hands on his shoulders, being mindful of the injury caused by the fish hook. "It won't be long now before-"
"Charlotte, we have six minutes and ten seconds before everyone arrives, that gives us plenty of time and if this is, as you so eloquently put it, oblivion, I want to spend it with the one other person besides Watson who matters to me most." He spun me around with a force that I did not recognize, his lips meeting mine with unexpected urgency. There wasn't a second where I did not know it was what I wanted, and without any hesitation, I kissed him back. His hands trailed over my neck seductively, and I could feel my cold body shivering beneath my dress. This kiss was not like the other, more chaste ones we had shared. It was urgent, as if he truly did need it, as if it were the last. The kisses continued on and on, our bodies pressed firmly against one another. My fingers moved into his hair, playing with the soft curls that he knew I loved so dearly as his head dipped and I could feel his hot breath against my neck as he trailed light kisses up and down.
Is this what love was supposed to do?
Is it supposed to make you feel this weak?
We broke apart momentarily and people were giving us strange looks.
No, let's make this moment last as long as we can.
Don't let me go, not just yet.
"People are staring at us," I whispered.
"Let them stare!" He replied with equal breathlessness and the grin that made itself present and the way his eyes seemed to analyze me made it perfectly clear that if we were in a less public setting, I was sure that we would have taken things a whole lot further, now it was a competition, a contest to see who would come out on top, it was like a feverish dance, but none of us would let the other take the lead. Once in a while, we felt each other smiling against the kisses.
I would never forget this moment as long as I lived, and I knew I was forever undone; Seconds ago I had been aiming for the survival of humanity. Now all I wanted was Sherlock Holmes.
And that's Chapter 13, it may be a little bit shorter and bouncier than the rest of the chapters, but I think we will need a short one for what's coming up and I am not looking forward to that one bit, it's my least favourite part of the entire movie and I have a feeling you know quite well what that is.
Toodles.