"Hello..?" You say picking up your phone, which had rung thirty minutes before it usually did. So it must have been a call.
"(l/n). Our house. Now." The voice seemed surprising familiar at first, but your brain couldn't figure it out before the other had hung up.
"Pft." You said hold your phone in front of your face, realizing who it was. "Impatient, Aren't we, Sherlock?" A twinge of excitement electrified you as you threw your phone into your purse and hurried to get ready.
You were out the door in ten minutes. Even though you came home exhausted yesterday, you couldn't help but crave the excitement that the two detectives seemed to live in. You turn to lock the door, not expecting Sherlocks voice to turn up behind you.
"You're slow. Let's go." He says making you jump, almost dropping your keys.
"Jesus Christ." You breath, exasperated. You knew you were going to get into some surprises today, but.. "What are you doing here?"
"Like I said. You're slow. Follow me." He said turning around, and waving you on.
"Oh, My apologies." You say, with the most obvious sarcasm your vocabulary will allow. "Did I keep the prime minister waiting?"
"Not exactly."
"Not exactly?"
"Precisely" Sherlock finished, clearly having no attention to elaborate.
We sat in silence during most of the cab ride. We didn't have a grown up John to stop us from acting like bickering toddlers.
"So?" You probe.
"So." He responded blandly.
"Are you going to tell me why I'm here?" You roll your eyes at the scheming detectives smile.
He stayed silent, and looked towards the window, obviously ignoring you. Fine. If you want to play that game.
"Stop the cab." You say up to the driver, as Sherlock quickly turns his head in your direction. The driver makes a move to do what you ask but Sherlock buts in.
"Don't you dare." He says, in a voice more stern than I could ever produce. The feeling from when he had grabbed your collar, that fear, hinted once again, but you pushed it down, not giving up.
"Fine." You said, as you opened your side door, while the cab was moving. Even though you notice is a clearly bad idea, your stubbornness prevails. "I'm leaving."
"What do you think your doing?!" Sherlock yells, as he reached over you, shutting the door quickly. "Are you insane?!"
You begin to think you are. What made you think that was a good idea?! God. How will I even begin to explain myself.
"Hey!" You command, louder than you meant. "It's your fault!" No no no no. That's not what you meant.
"My fault? You were the one who practically jumped." He exclaimed, his face still almost pressed against mine.
"I'd rather jump than sit in a car with you." You say turning your head, not really meaning it, but it came out somehow.
"Fine. I'll tell you what you do. Just, Don't. Run."
"Fine."
Sherlock leans back, and takes a moment to assess you, you can feel his eyes. "Do you know what a Miai is?"
"..No.." God. Why does he always have to make you feel stupid?
"It's an arranged marriage meeting. One of our cases led us to the man on the other side of this meeting." Sherlock was serious with his words, some how making you feel even more comfortable with it.
"So... You need me to sit in." You say, hopefully not embarrassing yourself again.
Sherlock smiled a little. "You catch on quick and that's exactly why we need you for this job."
"Fine. But I expect pay." You say, somewhat coldly, trying to hide your excitement for the mission and embarrassment from the compliment.
You exit the cab on front of a beautiful skyscraper, and see John. He looks very done up, and you wave over to him trying to mentally tell him how handsome you think he looks, but Sherlock swiftly step in between your line of sight.
"Let's go. No time to waste." He said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along.
"Wai-" You said, about to protest, but something about Sherlocks silhouette quiets you. Making you almost happy that he decided to drag you.
"Hey!" John yelled from the other side. "You can treat women like that!"
John followed us all the way into a hotel room, where boxes of make up, dresses, and hair stuff made it almost impossible to make your way around. Sherlock moved about the room, picking out a specific dress, make up bag, and hair curler.
"Use these." He said shoving them in my hand.
"Fine." You said unsure why you were so willing to help him when he is a clear psychopath.
"So. Are you going to change?" Sherlock prods.
"What..? I mean." You start, tripping over your words. "I mean, Yeah. But, get out!"
You push the two detectives out of the room, but right before you close the door you hear a small whisper.
"High functioning sociopath. Remember that."
You close the door quickly. Did he read your mind? No... He couldn't have. God! You must be see through if can even see your thoughts on your face.
It takes you awhile to get changed, seeing that these are probably the nicest clothes you've worn. Ever.
You take a deep breath before stepping out.
"Wow." John says, looking at you. You blush a little.
Sherlock stays silent for a moment, bringing his hands up to his mouth surveying you. "Perfect."