Chapter two: Mr. Sherlock Holmes

"Tammy?" My father roared from the foot of the stairs. "You get down here now! We're going to be late!"

I smirked as I had purposefully waited for him to shout before coming down the stairs. I'd picked a bright, sapphire, almost a neon blue dress with black beads and lace trim. By delaying until the last possible minute, I'd meet Sherlock Holmes in this dress. It was one of my favorites, but both of her parents hated it with a passion. Not that I really blamed them, such bright colors like these were only worn for the women of the night.

I grabbed a large blue hat and carefully secured it with a large pin upon my head before exiting my room. I smiled to myself as I descended the staircase. Both of my parent's heads went towards me and it was my stepmother who shrieked first. "You cannot wear that!"

"We're going to be late."I reminded her as I pulled on the uncomfortable elbow length gloves. "There's not time for me to change."

"She did this on purpose!" She shrieked. "Do something!"

"Like what?" He shouted. "I can't! Either we arrive an hour late or we take her with us like this now!"

"Fine!" She huffed as she pulled at her gloves. "I can't believe this!"

My stepmother criticized everything about me the entire carriage ride there. I was sorely tempted to stop the carriage and ride up top with the driver. However, I was able to tune her out and focus solely on the clacking of the horse's hooves on the cobblestones. I would vaguely nod my head, but she was soon silent as she realized that I was not listening. I could not and would not look at my father. I was still upset and disappointed with him about this decision for me to wed a man I didn't know.

All too soon, the carriage stopped in front of a breathtaking mansion. I hated to admit it, it was a lovely home and I'd love to have it, but I wasn't willing to sell myself to get it. A footman hurried to open the carriage door and help me out. I was tempted to run down the street as soon as my feet were once again on the ground, but I decided against it. I could get rid of this man, Sherlock Holmes in five minutes.

After father and stepmother had descended, we went to the door. After ringing the bell, we were admitted into the main entrance. It was beautiful, polished marble pillars, deep cherry stained wood floors with red carpet. I loved the multiple gold accents, such as a miniature palm planted in a gold pot. Gold picture frames, gold light switches and dozens of other little things. I was momentarily stunned as I viewed the house.

"Just think," my stepmother's voice cause my mind to stray from the beautiful thoughts I was having. "all this will be yours."

I glower at her. "Don't even attempt to marry me off without my permission. If I have to run away at the altar, so be it."

My father inhaled to speak, but an approaching man cut me. "Very nicely put." This man was several years older than I was, he was somewhat heavy set and his hair was thinning. I began shaking my head, if this was Sherlock Holmes; I was jumping out of a window! The man smirked at me. "And you must be my brother's intended bride." I glowered at him, as he looked me up and down. "Not bad. He might prefer you."

"You make me sound like the last rotten egg on the tray that absolutely must be eaten."

His brow arched. "Indeed. Follow me please; mother is waiting in the parlor."

My father spoke up. "And what about Sherlock Holmes? Are we to make his acquaintance this afternoon?"

"Possibly." He said with a slightly snidest toned in his voice. "However, you may regret your anticipation about meeting him. My brother is rather…unusual at times."

I clear my throat. "Without meaning to sound rude, you rather forgot to introduce yourself."

"Does it matter?" he questioned without sparing me a backward glance.

"I guess not, since your parents didn't bother to bless you with a name, why should it matter?"

My father elbowed me. "Tammy, behave." He then apologized for me. "Sorry, my daughter hasn't quite learned to speak properly with gentlemen of your class."

"That's fine."

"Mikey," he groaned at the sound of an older woman's voice. "where is Sherlock?"

"I don't know." He said tightly. "I'm not my brother's keeper and you named me Mycroft." He stepped aside, holding one hand out, as if he were displaying me proudly. "And this is Miss Tammy Holmes."

I stepped towards her and curtsied. "And honor to meet you Mrs. Holmes."

"And you too Miss Hake."

"Please," I insisted. "call me Tammy. I much rather prefer it."

"Alright," she smiled as she brushed a silver strand of hair from her face. She was a beautiful, elegant looking woman. "I shall then, Tammy."

"Mycroft?" A loud, gruff voice caused me to look up towards the door that we'd just come through moments ago. My eyes widened slightly as I took in the sight of the man standing there wrapped in only a bed sheet! Surprisingly, I was only taken aback for the moment, even at the sight of the skull in his hand. "Did you take my eyeballs again? I need them."

I look towards Mycroft, questioningly, as he gazed at the man with a sour, warning expression. "Eyeballs, Sherlock? I didn't take those items from that…room you dare to call a lab."

Sherlock glowered at him. "You hid them last time we had company. Don't even bother to lie."

"That was because you had previously put one in the lady's tea cup." My brows rose in curiosity. "I figured I'd spare Miss Hake the discomfort of finding one in hers. Also to spare mother of the embarrassment for explaining your need to divulge in childish pranks."

"So you did take the eyeballs then?" I ask.

Mycroft glances at me with a look, suggesting that I be grateful to him. "Of course, I did. Unless, you prefer eyeballs in your tea."

"I wouldn't know, I've never tried it before." I stand up and face Mr. Sherlock Holmes, taking in some of his features. He's moderately pleasant to look at, not handsome at all. As near as I can make out, underneath that sheet, he has virtually no muscular tone to his body at all. His face is extremely angular with prominently sharp cheekbones. His eyes, I like, they're sharp and appear to be three colors. Green, blue and gold, unusual, but nice. His hair is an unruly mop of dark curls and his lips were shaped in a tight line.

He held my gaze for a moment before stating. "You're staring at me."

And, he's got a mouth on him. Good. I love to argue with people. "So are you."

He glowered at me, as if surprised that I'd dared to talk back to him. "I'm making a deduction."

"So am I, if I allow you the liberty of making a deduction, then you should extend the courtesy by allowing me the same service."

He arched a brow. "Clearly."

"Indeed." I boldly held my hand to him. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I presume?"

He blinked for a moment then he handed me the skull so he could shift the sheets carefully into his hand so he could shake mine. The skull, for some stupid reason, didn't faze me at all. However, his touch did, for some ridiculous reason a peculiar warmth spread throughout me at his touch. "You must be Miss Tammy Hake." I nodded. "By the way, I hate your last name."

I didn't even flinch. "I hate it too. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that I'm going to change my last name to your last name just to have my name changed. It can be done legally enough."

He arched a brow. "Why are you here then if that wasn't your goal?"

I glowered at him. "I was threatened that if I didn't come here I'd never live to see the light of day again. What are you doing here? No one held a shotgun to your head!"

"No, not a shotgun, my mother's tongue and I frankly I wished for it to simply lie silent instead of going off."

"Which is just as lethal." I add. "But I warn you, stepmother's tongues are even more dangerous."

"That's enough!" My father snapped sharply at me, causing me to jump slightly. I had forgotten that we weren't alone. "Tammy, sit down at once. And give Mr. Holmes back his skull."

I frowned and looked down at the skull in my hand and handed it back to Sherlock. "Right, sorry." I cast the skull of his a curious look. "Friend of yours?"

He looked at me as if he was hearing the word 'friend' for the first time in his life. "I don't have…friends."

I shrug my shoulders. "Oh….wonder why." At my father's glower, I turned and sat on the sofa. Mrs. Holmes arched a silent brow at me as I removed my gloves. Sherlock gazed around the room and then sat down beside me, allowing the sheet to go slack in his hands, revealing everything from his waist up. I could feel those eyes of his boring into my face, he was determined to intimidate me, but I wasn't going to fall for it.

Mycroft spoke up with disdain in his voice. "For God's sake Sherlock," he snapped. "we're having company! Couldn't you have at least put your clothes on?"

"Well, since we're going to be forced into marriage," Sherlock stated as he reached for the teacup that his mother had filled and began to blow on it. "I figure it's best that she see what she's getting." I almost sloshed the tea in my cup as I accepted it from Mrs. Holmes at his words. "After all, you are virtually selling us, and every seller deserves a look at what they're buying."

I nod. "Agreed." I turned towards him and held his gaze. "I didn't wear my corset today. Would you wish to examine me as well Mr. Holmes, or would you prefer to do that in private?"

All mouths dropped open in shock at that statement. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before commenting. "I don't need to see you naked Miss Hake to realize the full extent on your feminine features. I can imagine them quite well and could even guess your measurements accurately."

"Fascinating." I was feeling slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable, but I wasn't going to back down from this man's scandalous statements. "Since you're talking about my body and how you can imagine it's appearance when I'm unclothed," my stepmother moaned and began fanning herself rapidly. My father looked like he was about to explode. "might I suggest we turn to a first name basis at this time?"

Sherlock looked at me for a moment before nodding. "Yes. I believe it might be appropriate…Tammy."

"Thank you….Sherlock."

"Well," Mrs. Holmes said brightly. "I believe that….this marriage might take place after all."

"WHAT!?" Sherlock and I shouted in unison. "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" We turned and glowered at each other.

Mycroft smirked. "Oh, I believe you're right mother dear, they're perfect."

Sherlock spoke first. "You can't really mean that. It's obvious that we can't stand each other!"

"Agreed." I chimed in. "I wouldn't marry him if he were the last man on this earth.

"If you don't marry him," my father threatened. "he will be the last man on earth that you ever see again."

I glowered at him. "Fine with me. I don't love him!"

Mrs. Holmes spoke up. "Look, this whole thing is a bit rushed. Don't know why it must be so, however, even if these cannot see it they are…compatible."

"What?" I shrieked before lowering my voice. "Sorry. I fail to see how."

"I saw it the instance you stalked up to him and held out your hand." I squirmed, my own boldness had put me in this situation. "You're not the first woman he's walked out to meet dressed only in a bed sheet."

"The sixth." Sherlock supplied helpfully.

She glowered at him. "The count doesn't matter Sherlock. The fact is, out of all the challenges you've issued to her, she's the only one who's stood up to each challenge and pushed it back in your face."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked away. "Annoyed, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked. "It is annoying, to realize that your mother is correct."

Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest and remained silent. Frankly, I couldn't think of anything else to say. This whole situation was extremely bizarre. It was if we were sitting in the eye of the hurricane and the whole family was just whirling around us.

Mrs. Holmes stood up. "As unethical as it is, might I offer you a tour of the house Mr. and Mrs. Hake? Mycroft will accompany us."

Mycroft looked skeptically at us. "Are you sure that's safe mother? Tammy may have jumped out of the window."

Sherlock made a face at him as his mother rolled her eyes. "I'm fairly certain, this girl can handle herself. Now, do come and let them talk."

Sherlock groaned. "What are we supposed to be talking about?"

She smiled as she patted his shoulder. "Whatever you like."

"God mother," Mycroft moans. "you do realize that you left a variety of options open."

"Stop it Mike and do come on." she took a hold of Mycroft and tugged him out of the room with my parents following behind them. "Now, I believe we'll start with the upstairs, then work our way down to the garden and stables."

Her words faded as the parlor door was closed and I was left alone in the room with a half naked Sherlock Holmes right at my elbow.