John sat listening to "St. James Infirmary," and as Hugh Laurie belted out the sad, seductive words, John couldn't help thinking of a particular nasty autopsy he had performed while in medical school. It had been a supposedly accidental death, but John wasn't convinced and so subsequently was haunted by the cold, white body of the woman that lay on the slab, for John's findings were ignored due to the fact he was just a student. "Sherlock could have solved it," John thought as he inwardly sighed.
"John? John Watson, what are you thinking?" Laura asked softly as she slid a perfectly manicured nail along John's cheek, just hard enough to make an indentation but not puncture his skin.
John looked into her dark green eyes and flushed under her scrutiny, "I was just thinking about a case I had in medical school."
Laura pulled down John's lower lip with her thumb, letting it linger in just the right place. When John shifted uncomfortably Laura smiled, "It sounds deadly dull."
Anxious to change the subject, John gestured towards Hugh, "He really is quite good, too good for cruise ship entertainment."
Laura chuckled, "Do you see a full house John?"
John looked around realizing that the room only had a few people in it and all were dressed like some character out of a Fitzgerald novel. "I don't understand, is this a private concert?"
Laura laughed outright and said, "Hugh owes me a favor. Are you impressed?"
John smiled, "Yes, very."
The music had shifted into another sultry tune, "The Kiss of Fire." Laura leaned back in a suggestive pose and lit a cigarette clearly enjoying John's discomfort. "John do you believe that there is such a thing as a kiss of fire?"
John felt as if things were getting out of control and was just about to tell Laura to get to the point, when a clumsy waiter dropped a tray of glasses. The crash made John jump and he looked over at the poor waiter in sympathy, wheeling over to help him. The waiter shook his head and said in French, "No, no I am fine, sir." John had reached down to help and when his hand touched the waiter's he knew it was Sherlock. For a moment Sherlock's green eyes met his, they burned with a promise of love, protection, passion and something else jealously, an all-consuming obsessive glance that made John weak in the knees. Sherlock let his thumb linger on John's index finger and then he got up in a profusion of apologies, cleaned up the mess and left.
"John a penny for your thoughts," Laura whispered in his ear.
John cleared his throat anxious to find out what Laura getting at, beside the obvious of course, "Laura, perhaps you should tell me what this is all about?"
"John it's a game. Life can be so dull and mundane, so our little group plays games to relieve the boredom and for money too." Laura said softly, "If that interests you that is?"
John decided to play up his cover a bit, "God, I could do with some cash, Sherlock is used to a certain lifestyle and I haven't the heart to tell him that we are going to be broke soon."
Laura stuck out her bottom lip in sympathy, "Oh, you poor dear, mustn't let Sherlock down, he may leave you if he were to become bored."
"Just get to the point," John snapped for his one of his biggest fears was that Sherlock would grow tired of him and leave.
"Well, we sort of hire ourselves out to gain information and to take things," Laura said.
John frowned, "You mean you steal things and blackmail people?"
Laura looked shocked, "Oh dear me, John, blackmail, stealing, such ugly words, don't you think?"
John sighed, tiring of the game already, plus he needed a pain pill, "What would you call it then?"
Laura took a long seductive drag on her cigarette, "Evening out the score, John, evening out the score."
John looked off into the distance where Sherlock had been, a moist puddle of water from the shattered glasses still glittered as the lights from the stage caught it just right. "Fine, I'm in, but one thing you have to know, I won't physically hurt anyone."
Laura feigned surprise, "Why John you cut me to the quick. Do you honestly think I would physically hurt someone or kill them?"
John grinned as his eyes looked around the room to find the water spot on the floor he had observed a few moments ago after a fruitless search he said, "Oh, yes Laura I certainly do."
"Well, then as soon as Hugh takes a break, I will reveal all," Laura smirked.
John wheeled out of her reach, "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of. Laura I am totally devoted to Sherlock."
Laura looked surprised, "Oh John of course you are but John you of all people should know that variety is the spice of life."
As the music came to an end John dreaded it, for he knew that he was approaching the point of no return. When the last chord had been played, its overtones still hung in the air, Hugh left the stage and looked at John pointedly as if to say, "Run, or it might just be you on the slab in St James' Infirmary." However, when John looked back at Hugh he was giving Laura a peck on the cheek and when John tried to catch his eye, Hugh ignored him and drifted out of the room, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers like a tattered scarf.