Sorry guys for my 'meh meh'ness. My muse is lower than Anderson's IQ. Sorry. But hopefully with this chapter it shall make things better, OK? I would've had it out sooner, but my brother (idiot) deleted half of it on purpose. I was gonna save this one till later, but my muse being low and me wanting to update made this idea a chapter earlier than first expected. This should take place about six months after Animine first met the boys ;) ANYWAYS here we are!
Nobody had told Animine about Mycroft. The boys hadn't thought it important to mention. So when she got up early one morning to make a cup of tea, she was surprised to find a man sat in the living room of 221B. So surprised in fact she yelled, causing Sherlock and John to come running. When they saw who it was though, they scowled.
"Who is that?" She demanded, folding her arms.
"That, Animine, is unfortunately my brother, Mycroft." Sherlock sighed.
"Yes, I am Sherlock's brother." He said, standing and looking at them.
"He also controls most of the British empire." John added.
"Right. Why is he here?" Animine then asked, a lot more relaxed.
"A case, I should imagine." Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Not a case as such. But you would be wise to accept."
It had been one hell of a plane ride. Sherlock had complained about boredom. John had tried (and failed) to stop him from deducing the whole plane travellers and Animine had tried her hardest to stay sane. They had to take a plane ride to Norway because Mycroft had forced them into taking it, but at the moment, they truly did hate him.
"Explain."
"We've found that a trained assassin will be at the international ball, motive unknown, but there to kill the English ambassador." He said clearly.
"Why do you need us though, Mycroft? You could send your brainless guards, they'd protect him at this dance. What is the point in it anyway?" Sherlock asked.
"Sherlock, the dance is a concept of peace, that is to celebrate the end of wars, to discuss politics and for every country to for one night, remember peace and hopefully expand on it to move forth. Various representatives are asked to attend in honour of their country, and it tends to be the highest occasion of importance on the social calender. I ask for you three to go as you can be more inconspicuous, and you will find the assassin before the shooting starts and find his reasons,"
"We'll go." John said, knowing Mycroft would make them go either way. Sherlock shot him a glare, and Animine couldn't help but grin at that.
"Good. Your plane leaves at ten a.m. tomorrow and a car will pick you up at 8 sharp. Goodbye. Oh, and good luck." And with that, Mycroft had left, and they packed their bags with their gladrags.
They touched down in Oslo the following evening. The dance was to take place tomorrow night, so they had the day to prepare. They swiftly checked into a hotel, and luckily, all three slept what was left of the night through. The next morning, they woke early and started to discuss matters.
"Will we all be going as guests?" John asked.
"Yes." Sherlock gave the short answer.
"You do know we'll have to mingle and dance to be inconspicuous." Animine said, and the boys nodded. Well, Sherlock scowled a little but nodded in resigned acknowledgement.
"Guess we'll have our best clothes on." John sighed.
"You'd look good in a suit John." Sherlock said with a shrug.
"Oh, I wonder what you'd look like in one." John said, and Animine smirked at his light joke. John noticed and couldn't help but smile broadly too. Sherlock just shook his head, but the slight smile didn't go unnoticed.
Three hours before they were supposed to arrive at the ball, the three of them started to get ready, the boys donning their suits, and a room away, Animine readying herself.
"I can't see her in a dress myself." John said as he straightened his shirt.
"She'll have to wear one for the occasion, obviously John." Sherlock replied, slipping on a black-as-night blazer, and helping John putting his on.
"I know that, but she only ever dresses in jeans and t-shirts. She doesn't even imply she has ever worn or likes dresses." He said in return.
"True." Sherlock shrugged. "I hope she does hurry up though, we need to leave soon."
"Good thing I'm a quick dresser then." Animine's voice came from behind them, and when the two men turned to look at her, they were both a little bit shocked at least. She was wearing a long, shimmering black dress with blue stitching going up the left side creating a swirling pattern. Her shoes were simple black pumps. She had on bare amounts of make up; just red lipstick and mascara. The unruly ginger brown hair of hers had been straightened and let down rather than her usual plait or ponytail. "Well stop gawking and lets go!" She said and grinned.
"Let's" Sherlock agreed with a swift nod, and John followed suit. The three friends set off, their mission on their minds.
They got there considerably early, and Sherlock's eyes swept around, deducing the other guests quickly and having an eye on the English target at all times. He'd yet to deduce who was the murderer to be, and therefore John decided they should split up and mingle to stop suspicion creeping into the assassin's mind when he did turn up. Sherlock reluctantly agreed and disappeared into the crowd, John made his way over to chat to some foreign ladies nearby. Animine smiled as she stepped over to a group of Russian and American representatives.
"Hi there, everything OK?" She asked, smiling sweetly. Her natural accent was east London, though she could change it into British etiquette with refined ease.
The men looked at her. It didn't matter what nationality they were; this was a night of peace and evidently being able to flirt was completely fine with them.
"Yes yes, good and fine." The weedy looking American leader said. He was skinny and in a suit, whereas the lead Russian was handsome and fit in a deep blue suit. She smiled again.
"I don't get to go to many dances, you know, work." She said and laughed a little, and the men did too.
"May I ask you to then have a dance with me?" The Russian asked, much, obviously, to the American's annoyance.
"Certainly." Animine replied, and took his hand, as they started to dance with the other mismatch foreigners. It truly was nice for once, to see everybody one night, united and friends together.
Her and the Russian danced for one song, and was just about to start another when a familiar voice was heard in Animine's ear. "May I have the next dance?" It asked, and the Russian nodded.
"Thank you." The Russian said to Animine and kissed her before leaving. Animine then turned to face Sherlock as the next song started.
"Are you jealous or just bored?" She asked as they started to waltz.
"Bored." Sherlock lied, though it was the worst lie he'd ever told. The pair danced well together, better than Animine would have thought he could. Then, for the next dance, Sherlock lead her onto the balcony, where the full moon hung bright in the sky, the only light in a dark night. A slow tune of melody drifted towards them, and they slow danced to it in the moonlight.
"This hasn't turned out as boring as I first anticipated." Sherlock said quietly.
"The trip or the dance?" Animine asked.
"The trip." He answered simply, and they continued to dance.
Once they had finished, not long after, they stood and gazed at each other for a while, with just a small smile on their lips. They leaned forward slightly, when John appeared at the doorway. The pair looked at him, Sherlock a shield of no emotion and Animine betraying nothing.
"I think I know who the assassin is." John stated.
Part two of this shall be coming soon ;)