Jet Black Orbs Part IV
Minuets later three dapper men sauntered into the sitting room, two were dressed to the letter in the finest jet black wing-collared fabric, secured in the middle with a white satin custom tailored V-cut pointed waistcoat, and tied off with a crisp silk white bow tie at the neck.
As for the third companion, he too was decked out in the best formal attire available, but it was a ghastly shade of bright red instead of the customary solid black.
"What?! Sherlock!" Lestrade exclaimed as he and John turned around to face their third companion, "What happened?You look terrible! And that red is an alarming shade, too bright and looks too wild. Why couldn't you have just worn what John and I are wearing now? Black Nice solid black tails with white on the inside? Did you forget this is a White-Tie event we're attending?"
"Yea mate, hate to break it to you," John threw in his two cents shaking his head incredulously, "but that red suit is really quite something. Never thought you'd wear something that crazy. Makes my eyes hurt just looking at it, not to mention what YOU have done with you're eyes! I'd ask, but I don't think I want to know the answer to that."
John handed his masque to Sherlock, "You do realise this is a Masquerade!? We are under the guise as guests, not attending a circus as the performers, you remember? We are trying to blend in, not stick out as walking targets! You of all people! You're rather obvious even in your everyday clothes and now wearing red certainly doesn't help at all. Nothing screams "walking target" better than bright red plastered on every single part of your body."
An exasperated John sunk into his chair heaving a frustrated sigh.
"Sherlock," Lestrade whispered, "best to put the bow tie on before John goes off on you again."
"I heard that, Greg," he didn't bother to look up, merely pointed a finger sternly at Sherlock's neck and ordered, "Find it and tie it. I don't want a repeat of last time,** and don't give me any grief about it."
"But John," the dapper red-coated gentleman countered in a sarcastically juvenile whine with false airs of annoyance, "But I can't see so I won't be able to tell if my bow tie will be straight so why must I bother with these trivial things. Bow ties are just decorative strangulation devices. I prefer to attend this function without feeling like I will pass out from suffocation at any given moment."
Sherlock crossed his arms in huff," Besides, what if I DO want to look like a walking target?! Hmm?! That is my personal choice. As for my eye, it's merely colour-contacts. How do you find them? I hope I look frightening. It's for the case."
The two men burst out in a wild boorish laugh with John finding his ability to speak first. "Sherlock. You alone are frightening, you didn't need to dress up for that. With your creepy black eyes and bright red dinner jacket it certainly looks more like a horror film than a masquerade.
The two proper gentlemen shook their heads as they sighed exasperatedly.
Why can't that man act like a man at times?
"Yea. Yea. Sherlock, quit your fussing and just tie it," so the man-child compiled with Lestrade's request, digging out the midnight-black satin fabric and deftly knotting it into its "butterfly" form.
Lestrade helped straightened the wings on Sherlock's bow tie, then gathered up his own crisp white dinner gloves, "We have to leave now, or else if we're late the entire thing will be done for nothing."
He took the leading in heading out of the flat, followed by a pouting childish man and his adult best friend. They looked like pieces that fell off a checker board game: Black. Red. Black.
Upon arriving to the elegant place with much time to spare, the gentleman dawdles in the antechamber until their ladies arrives. The limousine had just as it pulled up to the decorative double-door entrance as so as the the chauffeur opened the passenger door.
"Sherlock," John nudged him in the side softly and whispered so Lestrade couldn't hear, "you know the term 'drop dead gorgeous'," Sherlock nodded slowly knowing where the comment was headed, "Yea. well, that phrase doesn't even measure up to my Mary. She's absolutely stunning with this teal short-sleeves gown with glittering fitted fabric on the top and the lower skirt part looks kind of like a metallic teal/purple mix when she walk and the light hit it a certain way. There's even the glittering stuff in her pinned up hair with those flower pins Mycroft gave as our wedding gift."
The love-struck husband offered his hand for his wife to take once the chauffeur escorted her to him. "Hello my Mary, you look absolutely stunning tonight," he commented and finished with a kiss to her cheek.
"Thanks love. Wait till you see Molly's dress. Hers is one-of-a-kind beauty."
"Tell me Mary please, you're the only one who knows. What is my wife wearing?" Sherlock asked as he impatiently fidgeted with his cuff links waiting for his other half to emerge from the mobile.
The elegantly dressed lady in a soft pink flowing gown took her husband's forearm and led them to the gathering crowd into the main foyer.
"Now will you tell me?" Sherlock whispered into his wife's ear as she took his arm skilfully guiding them through the massive hallway without either of them bumping into the other guest, "I've waited long enough, I deserve to know what you and Mary went shopping for that one afternoon, don't I ? John tells me you're very pretty and Mary called you magnificent. I must know. What do you look like tonight?"
"I suppose you've been good," she teased, "I would tell you everything, but I think you'll have more fun deducing my appearance tonight. My entire gown is a soft pink, and the skirt is many layer that puff out from my waist."
She smoothed away his wavy hair that came loose from the hairspray and fell over his masque, "You cleaned up nicely. I always knew you were dashingly handsome, but having tails and bow-tie makes it so much better. Red is a good colour, but why red? You don't particularly favour that colour so why red, instead of the customary black?," she glanced around at the attire of the others,"everyone else is wearing either a black, dark blue, or bright white dinner jacket set."
"Oh, no reason in particular, but tell me now. I must know, the design. I imagine looks nice, but dresses aren't for men to decide." He cupped his arm around her petite waists as they meandered through the small tables offering hors d'œuvre and apéritifs. (Starters/appetisers and dry alcoholic drinks)
"Would you care for some cheese cuts or a small sweet, dear?" Molly politely filled her plate with a few things so not to seem unappreciative of the host and gathering. He shook his head and gently pushed her plate away.
"Tell me the room Molly. I must catch him tonight." He unfolded his red-tipped white cane awaiting his wife's lead for mapping out their "battleground".
A-N: Many thanks for your continuous interest in these various clips of Sherlock & Co. and taking the time to write lovely comments. Thank you for your enduring patience as I slowly update this story and "Watching Over Each Other". Please enjoy.
** "Last time" refers to Sherlock refusing to tie his bow tie of the best man's suit. See chapter 1 and 2 of "Watching Over Each Other" for the reference.