Chapter 9

We were remarkably bonding even more after that night. I wouldn't say we were a couple yet because he didn't ask me. But we clearly act like it. We were holding hands, sneaking kisses, and it drives Sherrinford crazy! He was always telling us to get a room. Clearly he was uncomfortable with our PDA. Everyone is, really. He totally gave up on us when we kissed, just to annoy him. We get a good kick out of it, seeing him squirm.

"Sherry!" Sherrinford yelled at me. I was in my room, reading. Jim was out on a meeting. Obviously some criminal needed consulting.

"What?!" I yelled back.

"You've got a phone call!" Who in the world would know where I am? "Who is it?!"

"You'll see for yourself!" I hurried down the stairs and grabbed the phone from Sherrinford, who was eating.

"Hello?"

"Sherrelyn, are you alright?" Of course.

"Sherlock!" I let out a gasp. "How did you-"

"Don't play the fool, I know what you've done." Sherlock's baritone voice snarled. Uh oh.

"What?"

"You were working for Moriarty all this while."

I smirked. "No shit, Sherlock."

"Playing the victim, and you think you could fool me?"

"Congratulations, it took you 7 months!" I retorted. Since we last saw each other, of course. How did he find out?

"To be honest, your little acting was quite good. You should be an actress one day."

I laughed. "Oh, Sherlock. You have no idea."

"What happened to you? One second you're a music lover, and next you're plotting your brother's death?" I laughed again. Really, Sherlock is so funny.

"Two years can change a person." I said before hanging up. I rolled my eyes, thinking of Sherlock. I wonder how he found out...

I was sitting in the library with City of Heavenly Fire on my lap. I got hooked on to YA fiction. Well duh, I'm only 16. Wait. 17 tomorrow. Wow. Has it really been two years? Time flies so fast. I couldn't believe it. Jim burst into the room, full of pride. But his confidence decreased when he saw me. He turned from Confident Jim to Shy Jim in less than two seconds. He sat next to me on the couch. He was wearing a suit, Westwood obviously. I assumed he was going for a meeting.

"How's life in Jim's world?" I teased him, poking his shoulder. He grinned. He seemed to warm up again.

"Oh you know...a little boredom, a few deaths, loads of consulting to do..." He answered non-chalantly. I grinned at his sense of humour. He suddenly went nervous. "Sherry, I was wondering if..."

"If...?" I teased him.

"If you'd go out with me to dinner."

"Sure! When?" I asked.

"Tonight."

"Tonight?! But..." I looked at the clock on the wall of the library. It was already 6. "I need to get ready! And when were you going to tell me?" I asked.

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I better get ready then!" I said. I got up and started to run to my room, flying up the stairs. When I entered the room however, there were a group of women standing in the room. "Um..."

"Oh, you must be Sherry! Come, we'll get you ready!" The woman in the front said. She pulled me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. Two other women entered and they said that they were the ones to bathe me. I stared at them, flabbergasted. There's no way in hell would I undress in front of them, let alone give them permission to bathe me like a 2 year old! I've always been insecure about my body. I just felt a little bashful of going naked. Weird, I know.

"Sherry, you gotta cooperate, or I will turn you into shoes!" Jim called out from outside. Is he serious? Shoes? "I'm serious, Sherry!" Did he read my mind? Reluctantly, I let them, hoping to not be turned into shoes. I undressed and went to the bathtub. The two women helped me in and they got to work. Shampooing me, scrubbing me, all while chatting among themselves. I couldn't follow them because they were talking about some rumors going on between Alexis and Simon. I have no idea who they are. I just sat in the bathtub, lost in my own train of thoughts.

After toweling me, they shooed me out to my bedroom. They made me sit in front of the vanity and they started their respective jobs. The woman from just now was doing my hair. One was doing my makeup, and two were doing my nails. This is so weird. I've never been pampered like this. It felt so awkward. Did Jim go to all this trouble just to take me out for dinner? I think that's sweet. He probably thinks you need this treatment because you're so ugly. I pushed that negative thought from my head.

I looked at myself in the mirror when they were done. Wow. I look...different. My hair was curled, curlier than usual. Actually, they were more of waves than curls. My face was different. I never put on this makeup and looked nicer. I never really wore makeup. I always thought that it outshines the natural beauty. But here I am, prettier than usual. My nails were done blue, a little weird because my nail polish was usually red or pink. Nevertheless, I liked what they did on me. I felt like a blank canvas which was painted on. I was a work in progress.

Next, they took me to the closet, dying to see the dress. I was a little excited too, knowing Jim's impeccable taste in fashion. It was in a box. The box was white, wrapped carefully. I opened it and saw the most beautiful dress I've ever seen! It was a Grecian-like blue dress, with a little belt on the waist. I was speechless. Jim has a fashion sense better than me, Anna, Harriet and Ally. Jeanine was always teasing us as she's like the goddess of fashion. I wonder how they are. I mean, it's been two years since I last saw them. How were they? I don't think they'd miss me much.

The women started to dress me with gentleness, careful. When they were done, they pulled me to the mirror which I didn't realize was installed in the closet. They were clapping happily, pleased with their work. I looked and felt beautiful. I mean, the dress works well on me, hugging my body and the hue was perfect. My hair was spilling down over my shoulders in waves. I looked different, yet I feel the same. Maybe it's the dress. Or maybe it was me. Butterflies in my stomach. A date. With Jim Moriarty. That is the strangest thing I've ever said. I mean, why would Jim go out with a girl like me?

Waves of insecurity were hitting me again and again. I'm not beautiful. So why would he want to go out with me, let alone marry me? Was he lying, just to use me to get to Sherlock? Or was he just bored and wanted a pet? I felt bashful when one of the women said I was like a goddess. Right. That was Irene Adler, not me. I'm no goddess.

I walked down the stairs slowly, careful not to trip and fall down the stairs. Now that's embarassing. Jim was at the bottom of the stairs, with Sherrinford. He was so handsome. He was wearing one of his finest Westwood suits, which I knew was in the collection that was supposed to be released next year. He was staring at me. Or was there someone behind me? But no, there was no one behind me, so it was me he was staring at. I felt a blush creep up to my cheeks. I reached the bottom of the stairs. Jim took my hand and kissed it softly, his eyes never leaving me. Sherrinford rolled his eyes. "You look beautiful, Sherry." He said.

"Aren't I always?" I smirked. Jim and I walked to the limousine waiting for us. He opened the door for me, like a gentleman he was. Before I could enter, he grabbed my arm.

"You don't look beautiful." I frowned. Seriously, Jim. I felt a little hurt.

"Thanks." I said flatly.

"You look like the queen." What? Queen Elizabeth? "Well, you are the queen to my heart anyway." He said.

"I..." I was blushing! This man is such a charmer!

"The man with the key is King. But the woman with the key to my heart is the Queen." Okay now I'm really blushing. He really knew how to make me blush.

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked Jim.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out!" Jim said, smirking.

"James!" I said, hitting his arm. "I want to know you won't kidnap me and kill me."

"You know I'd never do that!"

"Oh, but that's what got us here." I said, smirking. He had no good comebacks to shoot me with, so he kissed me. I kissed him back, his lips soft against mine. We were like that for a while, kissing in the backseat.

We arrived at a posh restaurant, with Italian decoration. It was empty. No one was there, except for the workers and the two of us. I had a feeling Jim was involved. Nevertheless, I took his arm and we walked inside. "Lack of customers." I noted, wanting to confirm that this was his doing.

"Ah, yeah, I might have..." He said, blushing. "If you don't want to...we could get them back and-"

"No no, it's fine! It's fine this way. I mean, more privacy." I said. We went to our table. It was outside. The starry night was cool and it was a perfect night. It was a little awkward when we were browsing the menu to order our food. I was right. This is a very posh Italian restaurant. No shit, Sherlock. My inner Sherlock said.

"So...what would you like to order?" Jim asked me. I was so busy staring at him through the top of the menu that I didn't even choose!

"Um...something spaghetti with some seafood...any suggestions?" I blurted.

He laughed. "Hm...that's the seafood pasta then." He gestured to the waiter, who was nervously holding a pen and a notebook. Jim ordered our food and also red wine. When the waiter left, Jim turned his full attention on me. "This is a little awkward..." Jim said. I laughed and nodded.

"But it's a good awkward."

Soon, when our food arrived we started to talk about some interesting topics. He told me about his consulting job, and I told him about my days in the library. "So, we don't really know each other that well." Jim said. I nodded for him to continue. "We should play a little game called 21 Questions to lighten the mood!" I sipped at my red wine.

"Okay, sure!" I agreed.

"Middle name?" Jim asked.

"Stephanie." "Isaac."

"Favourite colour?" I asked.

"Blue." We both said at the same time. We laughed.

"Favourite song?" Jim asked.

"How To Save a Life by the Fray." "No favourites."

"Phobia?" I asked.

"Losing someone I love." I fell silent. I took a sip ofmy red wine. His smile faded. He was staring into space, lost in his thoughts. His hand absent-mindedly held mine, gently stroking it with his thumb. "What's yours?" He finally asked me.

"Heights, spiders, rejection." I said. He raised an eyebrow at me. "What?"

"Why would anyone reject you?" He asked quietly. I flushed at his words.

"Book?"

"That's like asking me which body part I would like to lose!" I answered.

"Touchè." He said seriously. "I don't have a favourite either." He muttered.

"Singer or band?" I asked. I hope he has good music taste.

"The Script?" Before I could answer, he said, "I know your taste, I've had enough of working in that store to know your favourite bands." He smirked. I pulled a face at him and he laughed. "Alright, let's go deeper into the realm of questions that needs answering." Jim said. I agreed.

"Who's Tom?" He asked me. Oh god. I took another sip of my wine.

"Did you stalk me before this or what?"

"I've had information." He said.

"Tom was this asshole who had a huge crush, well I wouldn't say crush, more like an obsession really. He was obsessed with me. He'd literally follow me wherever I go and then he'd tell his friends that we were a couple and all that. Things got out of hand when he said I lost my virginity to him, which of course, wasn't true. His friends believed it and started telling other people. I got mad at him and his friends and I sort of attacked him..."

"Attacked him?" Jim smirked, amused.

"I kneed him in the crotch, there, you happy?" Jim burst out laughing. "He never bugged me after that. In fact, I think he switched schools the next year..."

"Remind me to never cross you ever." Jim said, laughing.

"You asked me who's Tom. So I'll ask you. Who's Annie?" Jim's smile faltered. Ooh, I touched a touchy subject. "You don't have to answer it..."

"No, no I'll answer." He said, waving his hand at me. I giggled. "She's this girl I met in Uni. She was this nice girl and all, and I fell in love with her. We were dating for quite a while. And then I had certain family problems that led to her getting hurt." Jim looked down.

"Oh. And where is she now?" I took yet another sip of my wine. I hope I don't get drunk before this night ends.

"6 feet underground at the Rose Cemetery." What? I nearly spit the wine out.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I feel stupid for bringing that up." I flushed. This is getting awkward in a very high level. I mentally cursed at myself for bringing this Annie up.

"No, no, it's fine. I just...don't talk about her a lot."

"So sorry again. Gosh I'm an idiot sometimes." I said. He chuckled.

"Yeah, that's true."

"Oi!" I said.

Not long after, we finished our food and we were going to head home. He held me tightly, my head against his shoulder. We were both staring at the stars. I was a little tipsy, and so was he. "This night has been great." I said.

"Yeah. And the weather's perfect too." As if on cue, rain started to break out. It was pouring in less than a second. I squealed, surprised at how cold the rainwater was. Jim was fuming because his Westwood suit is ruined. I took him by the hand and we went to the middle of the road.

"Are you going mental, Sherry?!" Jim yelled at me, but he was laughing.

"I might be!" I said and twirling in the rain. We started dancing the waltz in the middle of the road. This is what happens if you handed me red wine. We were laughing. I didn't care if my hair is wet, or my dress is ruined. I've always loved dancing in the rain, although my mother and Mycroft would be mad if I did. It's been ages since I did this.

Jim grabbed me by the waist. We were pressed so close together, our foreheads touching. We kissed passionately in the rain. The steady beat of rainwater dropping to the ground was the only thing I could hear. It was just us, in the rain, drenched and soaked to the bone. The moment. This one moment was so special, I wished I could frame it as a picture. After what seemed like hours, we retreated to the safe and warm car. Jim and I were soaked and we couldn't stop laughing. I want more days like this. Where we could just relax, enjoy ourselves. When we weren't carrying the burden of our boredom. We need a cure to our boredom, that isn't murder. It was fun days like this. I want to spend more fun times with Jim. I want to be happy with him. I'm in love with Jim.