Danielle walked into Buckingham Palace. Let her say it again, Danielle walked into Buckingham Palace. Okay maybe a third time would make it feel real. Danielle walked into Buckingham Palace. Nope, nothing, still sounded off.
Then again, she walked into Buckingham Palace to chase Sherlock.
Ah. Now that sounded real.
After all these months, Danielle should be more used to Sherlock's antics.
The helicopter landed on top of the palace. Danielle and John were escorted through the roof entrance. The back staircase was decorated in white wallpaper with gold on the corners. She could see faint shapes on the wallpaper, all a light gold color.
The security guards brought them out into a hallway. Ornate was an underestimate of it. Gold bannister, red carpet, mirror walls, wood furnishings. Everything exactly as Danielle imagined when thinking about Buckingham Palace.
The escort guided them to a large open door. He stood beside it, merely waiting.
Danielle glanced at John and then the door. "Do-do we go in?"
John looked to the escort. The butler showed no reaction to their conversation. "Think so." He walked in.
"O-oh! Oh okay." Danielle scurried after him.
This room has couches!
Danielle paused, staring at the large white fluffy couch. Her heart exploded in her chest. It looked soft, like it was made from swan feathers. Same for that bedsheet- wait wait bedsheet.
Danielle moved up.
Sherlock Holmes
In a bedsheet
In Buckingham Palace
Danielle nodded. Yeah. Yeah that still checks out.
Sherlock tilted his head at her, and to John. John shrugged, giving a quick throw of his hands before going to the couch. Danielle made slower steps, taking the only empty seat left on the couch. Sherlock sat between the both of them.
Danielle scanned the rest of the room. Large windows brought in bright sunlight. Another couch sat across the Sherlock couch, and a coffee table between them.
"Are you wearing any pants?" John asked.
"No."
Danielle squeaked. "Right, yeah."
A beat.
Danielle glanced up. She met John's eye.
The three burst out in laughs.
"Naked in the palace." Danielle laughed. She held her stomach, trying to keep herself contained. Her face heated up in a blush. She looked around the room, away from the naked man to her right. "Blimey."
"Oh, I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray." John told them.
It made Danielle giggle. Sherlock chuckled.
"What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?" John asked.
Sherlock smiled. He leaned back on the couch. The sheet thankfully moved with him, keeping him covered. "I don't know."
Danielle gasped. "Do you think we'll see the Queen?"
Sherlock lifted his head. Something catching his eye, behind Danielle. "Oh, apparently yes."
Danielle squeaked. She turned around, expecting the Queen or any other such royal. Instead Mycroft walked in.
She snorted, laughing again. It couldn't be helped. In her defense, John laughed too.
"Just once, can you three behave like grown-ups?" Mycroft scolded. He walked over to them, glowering.
"We solve crimes. I blog about it and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope." John mused.
Danielle laughed again.
Sherlock's face was stone as he glared up at Mycroft. "I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft."
Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?"
"Transparent."
"Time to move on, then." Mycroft leaned down to the table. He lifted up a stack of folded clothes.
Danielle still wondered how the murder could be transparent. Sherlock called it a '6' but what did that scale matter, really? Also, there were two hikers. The dead one, and the one with the car. Also- backfire? From the car? Why did that matter so much that Mycroft brought it up?
Oh- oh- oh unless- unless the backfire mattered. What could a backfire do to kill a man?
"We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation." The words brought her back. Startlingly, scolding, and down right rude. "Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on."
"What for?" Sherlock asked. He curled the sheet tighter around him.
Mycroft glared. "Your client."
Sherlock stood up. Her face heated, because that meant his naked arse was basically right in front of her face. She turned away, only succeeding in catching John's eyes. He grinned, like a twat. It made her face burn up. "And my client is?"
"Illustrious." A new man walked in. He stared at Sherlock without joy or any sign of polite introduction. "...in the extreme."
John stood up. Danielle was blushing so hard, she wouldn't even look up from the floor.
"And remaining-I have to inform you-entirely anonymous." The man advised. "Mycroft!"
Mycroft's tone became kind. Well, as king as he really ever sounded. Danielle never heard him this way before. "Harry." Mycroft put the clothes down. Stepping over, he shook the new man's hand. "May I just apologize for the state of my little brother?"
The man hummed a laugh. "Full-time occupation, I imagine."
"And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers." The man held out his hand.
John stepped forward, shaking it. "Hello, yes."
"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog." The man explained.
John gawked. "Your employer?"
"Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminum crutch."
"Thank you!" John replied. He grinned at Sherlock, proud.
"And Mr Holmes the younger." The man praised. "You look taller in your photographs."
"I take the precaution of a good coat and short friends." Sherlock replied.
Wow, Danielle thought. John should be really insulted by that.
"And that must be your neighbor, Ms Danielle Nolan." The man held out his hand.
Danielle blushed. She stretched her arm past Sherlock to shake the man's hand. The man that worked for the Queen. Or someone royal. Her mind was bursting. "Yes sir."
Sherlock stepped out in front of John. He made for the exit. "Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases. Both ends is too much work." He smiled at the man as he usually did. "Good morning."
As he made for the exit, Mycroft rushed over. He stomped on the bed sheet. The bed sheet started to- started to- fell-
Danielle had no air to gasp with. Her face felt like it was on fire. Did she have a fever? She couldn't even look away. By the time she realized what she'd seen, Sherlock quickly grabbed the sheet to cover his rear end.
Was she dead?
Was this what feeling dead felt like?
Danielle embarrassed herself to death in Buckingham Palace because of Sherlock Holmes. It's the most believable thing that's happened all day.
"This is a matter of national importance. Grow up." Mycroft scolded.
"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock snapped.
"Or what?" Mycroft taunted.
"Or I'll just walk away." Sherlock promised.
Danielle squeaked. She covered her face with her hands. The fire burned her palms.
"I'll let you." Mycroft promised right back.
"Boys, please. Not here." John told them. He snickered then too.
The whole situation was amusing, in another life. Preferably a life that wasn't Danielle's. Any other life. Please.
"Who. Is. My. Client?"
"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction." Mycroft instructed, with a heavy hint of mockery. "You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake-!" Mycroft paused himself. "...put your clothes on!"
Sherlock groaned.
Danielle was too dead to think about it.
==MPH==
Sherlock wore clothes again.
Danielle could not forget the sight. A sane person would've forgotten.
As Sherlock changed, a pot of tea was brought in. It made Danielle feel much better about the whole thing. Sherlock finally came in, dressed in a black suit and jacket. His usual coat draped over the couch.
Danielle reached for the kettle. Mycroft beat her to it.
"If you don't mind, I'll be mother." Mycroft poured a cup of tea.
"And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell." Sherlock mused.
Danielle giggled. Bloody giggled like a schoolgirl.
Mycroft handed her a cuppa. Danielle giggled still at his Sherlock aimed glare.
"My employer has a problem." The equerry explained, as he earlier introduced himself as Sherlock dressed.
"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen." Mycroft handed the Equerry a cuppa, and then John.
"Why? You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?" Sherlock asked him.
"People do come to you for help, don't they, Mr Holmes?" The Equerry asked.
"Not, to date, anyone with a Navy."
"This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust." Mycroft noted.
"Which means you can't use your Navy, or your Secret Service?" Danielle asked.
Mycroft gave her a thin smile. "Naturally not. They all spy on people for money."
Ah, a good point.
"I do think we have a timetable." The Equerry told Mycroft.
Mycroft opened his briefcase. "Yes, of course. Um.." He handed Sherlock a stack of photographs. Danielle looked at them from over his shoulder. The pictures showed a woman. The woman was vaguely familiar. Like, a second-hand familiar. "What do you know about this woman?"
"Nothing whatsoever." Sherlock replied.
"Then you should be paying more attention." Mycroft countered.
Sherlock tilted the viewed photo towards Danielle. Danielle took it, still staring. The picture below was much more...sexual in nature. It made Danielle blush. A name was splashed across the front.
"Irene Adler!" Danielle gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand. The men in the room turned to her, eyebrows raised. "I- uh. I know her."
"Finally. Something useful." Sherlock handed her another photograph.
"She's the reason that the novelist divorced. Had sex with both of them. A shame. Not even a good novelist." Danielle commented.
"She was also the source of two political scandals. And it was a prominent novelist." Mycroft corrected her.
"Yeah, and the books were rubbish." Danielle replied. "If you like them, it explains a lot about you."
John snorted. Sherlock smirked, quickly dropping it.
Danielle blushed again.
"No trivia. Who is she?" Sherlock prompted.
Danielle gulped. She reached over, pointing at one of the pictures. "The Woman. Well, Professionally."
"Professionally?" John asked.
"There are many names for what she does. She prefers 'dominatrix.'" Mycroft took delight in telling John.
Danielle sipped her tea.
"Dominatrix." Sherlock mumbled.
"Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex." Mycroft told him.
Sherlock glared up at him. "Sex doesn't alarm me."
Mycroft smirked. "How would you know?"
Danielle shifted her teacup around. As she drank, the men in the room continued to stare at her.
"Ms Nolan, you're familiar?" Mycroft asked.
Danielle was surprised she didn't drop the teacup. "In passing. Not- not as a client. I researched her after that scandal."
Mycroft hummed, still smiling.
It ticked Danielle off. Worse yet, it made her feel pathetic. "She's a dominatrix. Everything she's done has been to a client, not anyone who never asked for- for-"
"Recreational scolding?" Mycroft offered.
"Yes." Danielle answered. "It's always a paying client."
She did her research when the story first came out. At first, she'd wanted to beat Felix to a story. Her brother took up an interest in politics thanks to a boyfriend. He kept sending Danielle jokes and references that she barely understood. Eager to encourage him, Danielle did a speedrun of learning.
The information on Irene Adler was readily available. In a way, the information's readiness made Danielle suspect that Irene knew the scandals would come out. She prepared herself from any sort of scorn. All the information could be accessed for potential clients, or anyone curious.
Felix teased Danielle for the thorough information. Also, definitely asking Danielle a lot of questions. She nearly regretted it then.
She felt that regret now.
"Shall we see those clients?" Mycroft pulled out another folder from his briefcase. He handed the file to Danielle.
Beside her, Sherlock glared hatefully at Mycroft.
"These are all from her website." Mycroft told her.
Danielle picked up the gauntlet.
Danielle now held a picture of a woman's naked back. Could she suffer more embarrassment? Apparently yes. The next pictures included Ms Adler holding a whip, and biting it.
Danielle blushed. Turning to another picture, a new torment sat in her lap. Irene's eyes staring up at her with a look that made Danielle's stomach do flips.
These photos were old news to her. Seeing them in front of other people? Yeah that was a special kind of recreational scolding. Should she pay Ms Adler for her part in it?
"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs." Sherlock reasoned.
"You're very quick, Mr Holmes." The Equerry praised him.
"Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?" Sherlock asked.
Mycroft and the Equerry tensed up. "A person of significance to my employer. We'd prefer not to say any more at this time."
Sherlock yanked the file from Danielle. Glaring at Mycroft, he tossed the folder on the coffee table. It knocked the tea tray.
"You can't tell us anything?" John said, surprised and confused.
"I can tell you it's a young person." Mycroft supplied.
John sipped the tea.
Danielle glanced at the file pictures. Her blush got worse.
"A young female person."
Danielle choked on nothing.
"How many photographs?" Sherlock asked, entirely professional.
Danielle coughed, trying to get her breathing right.
"A considerable number, apparently." Mycroft replied, more professional than anyone had a right to be.
"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes, they do."
"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios."
"An imaginative range, we are assured."
"John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now. Danielle, take a deep breath in." Sherlock instructed.
Danielle did so. A tiny clink sound meant John did the same.
"Can you help us, Mr Holmes?" The Equerry asked him.
"How?" Sherlock replied.
"Will you take the case?" The Equerry kept on.
"What case? Pay her, now and in full." Sherlock instructed. "As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, 'Know when you are beaten.'" He reached for his coat.
"She doesn't want anything." Mycroft revealed.
Sherlock let go of the coat. It fell on Danielle's head. She winced, dragging the coat off into her lap. Sherlock stared at his brother.
"She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favor." Mycroft explained.
"Oh, a power play." Sherlock beamed. He smiled, like he did when they got a really exciting case. A seven, maybe? Perhaps- dare Danielle think it- a nine. "A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?"
"Sherlock." John warned.
Sherlock turned. Danielle held up the coat. Sherlock took it. "Where is she?"
"Uh, in London currently. She's staying-" Mycroft began.
Sherlock stood up. Taking the familiar cue, Danielle stood. "Text me the details. I'll be in touch by the end of the day." He walked towards the door. Danielle followed. John rushed to catch up.
"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" The Equerry asked.
"No, I think I'll have the photographs." Sherlock replied.
"One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think." The Equerry asked.
"It's worse." Danielle told the man. "He's better."
The Equerry scoffed, snorting in disbelief.
Sherlock, turned to glare at the Equerry, ended up smiling at Danielle. Her face was still full with a blush. "I'll need some equipment, of course."
"Anything you require. I'll have it sent to-" Mycroft began.
Sherlock paused in his steps. He whirled around, to look at the Equerry. "Can I have a box of matches?"
The Equerry blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do." Sherlock reached out a hand to him
"I don't smoke."
"No, I know you don't, but your employer does." Sherlock said.
Danielle stared. Her smile grew as she watched Sherlock smugly grin. He was proud of himself. It made her proud of him, of watching his brain work. Also- his employer smoked?!
The Equerry sighed in defeat. He handed Sherlock a lighter. "We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr Holmes."
"I'm not the Commonwealth." Sherlock tucked it into his coat.
Danielle turned to the Equerry. "See? Told you. Worse."
John nodded. "And that's as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you." He joined Danielle.
Sherlock kept walking, not waiting for his friends. "Laters!"
John gave Mycroft and the Equerry an apologetic wave. Danielle just waved them and their print-outs of a half-naked woman goodbye.
==MPH==
AN: Yes, this took awhile. Life hit me in the face while I was writing this. It- things were bad. Thanks to all the IRL friends that read this that were there for me.
Don't worry- I'm actually gonna be kind to Danielle...for a bit. Until I need amusement. Or unless the story calls for it. It's great.
Thanks to Kate Mitrakova, Black - The Writer, and wolfzero7, for favoriting
Thanks to ImpendingDoomWithMayonnaise, MoonyKunai, Kate Mitrakova, and Nalou83 for following
