@hellinhighheels sent: ❛ don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. ❜ // Kate from hellinhighheels
beckett couldn't help but let out a scoff as she leaned against the bar, all lean muscle in her fitted pantsuit straight from work. seeing as she was off the clock, she should have been glad to get a compliment, but it was hard to turn off her surly demeanor.
' are you sure the gun and badge wouldn't change your mind? '
It was now 2:36 in the afternoon, according to Basil’s watch. With a sigh, he glanced up from where he sat, scanning the cafe which he was currently in. It was nicely put together, if not a bit old. Nevertheless, it was an ideal location for a meeting between two individuals over a few cups of tea. That was, in theory, what basil had shown up to the cafe for, but his company had yet to join him. Some might have found their expected company’s lateness to be rude, but he was hardly surprised.
The letter that his client had sent him told him more about this woman than most would learn about her upon an actual meeting. Her diction and smooth use of cursive told him that she was both confident and intelligent. The way in which she chose to phrase particular statements also informed him that she was persuasive, and she was well aware if that. If he assumed correctly, she often used such persuasion as a tool to manipulate those around her. According to the well groomed and expressive owl which had delivered the letter, along with the nature of the expensive envelope, this woman had more money than she knew what to do with. What he did not know, however, was the problem which was plaguing the woman. Her letter had been very vague about that, only stating when and where he should meet her to discuss details of the case.
"Excuse me," a confident and elegant voice called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Already quite certain it was her, he stood up and turned to face the source of the voice. The woman who stood before him was likely only two years older than him, and she was truly a spectacle to behold. Beautiful was an understatement. This woman was stunningly gorgeous, her blond hair with movie star curls framed a face fit for for the cover of a magazine. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle on their own, and her makeup accented each of her features in the most lovely way.
Basil smiled easily, as he had done so many times before for clients. “Miss Abbington, I take it?”
In return, she gave him a charming smile, enough to sent most men to their knees. “Yes, love. But you can call me Elizabeth.” She held out her hand, raising a delicate eyebrow. “I presume you’re Mr. Baker?”
He took her hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly, noting a rather pleasant scent of cherry blossoms. Then he nodded, releasing her hand and smiling, “Correct, though you can call me Basil. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth.” Still not taking his eyes off her, he played the role of a gentleman and pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit down before going to sit opposite her at the small cafe table.
"How kind," she smiled at him. "It’s not often you find such a gentleman nowadays."
Basil chuckled, “Hm. I suppose not. How disappointing.” As he spoke, he saw the waitress make her way over to the table.
The young waitress looked at Elizabeth with obvious jealousy and dislike, then turned to Basil. “So, what can I get you?”
"I’ll have earl grey," he glanced over at his stunning company, raising an eyebrow. "And for the lady…?"
Again, she smiled at Basil, then turned to the waitress, “I’ll take English breakfast tea, thank you.”
"Will that be all?" The miserable looking waitress waited for both of them to nod before walking away again.
Once she had gone, Basil turned his full attention back to Elizabeth, “Now, what it is that we have come here to talk about?”
Her playful attitude seemed to tone down a bit as she nodded several times, becoming more serious. “I apologize for not explaining in my letter; it would have been much too long. I always prefer to talk over a cup of tea anyways.” She smiled at him before continuing. “Now, I have a bit of a problem. I own a rather impressive and high-end bar in London, and we’ve had one of our singers go missing. We brought it to the police immediately, but frankly…well, they haven’t done a damn thing.” She sighed in frustration. “I know it seems ridiculous, but this is the second time that a member of our staff has gone missing. A few weeks ago one of my waitresses also disappeared. Neither of the girls have been found, but I will not rest until I know that both of them are safe and well.” The waitress walked up to their table, setting down their cups in front of them and turning to leave. Biting her lip in worry, Elizabeth met his eyes, “Will you please look into it? I need your help. Please.”
Basil didn’t even need to think about his answer. Her story was intriguing, and the opportunity to investigate a mystery was not something he could easily turn down. “Elizabeth, I would be happy to look into it immediately.”
A look of immense relief spread over her features, and she reached over the table to take his hand in hers. “Thank you, Basil. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your help.”
Feeling quite pleased with himself, he gave her his most charming smile, squeezing her hand gently. “Of course. It isn’t a problem at all, I assure you. I’ll stop by your bar tomorrow morning to conduct interviews with your employees, if that’s alright with you.”
She nodded in agreement, “Yes, of course! We open at 8, so you may come before that or during our business hours. It does not matter to me. Whenever you can work best will work for me.”
"Wonderful," he smiled, satisfied that she was being so cooperative with him. "If you could write down an address, that would be most helpful."
"Oh yes! That would be a good idea, wouldn’t it," quickly, she took a pen and paper out of her purse, writing down the address with the same beautiful handwriting that he had seen I the letter, then handed it to him.
"Thank you," he told her, taking it and placing it gently in his pocket. With a small sense of disappointment, he saw that they had both already finished there tea. Seeing that their meeting was coming to a close, he stood, moving over to pull out her chair. "This has been quite lovely, Elizabeth."
She stood, her playful but confident attitude having returned. With a sly grin she took a step towards him, gently walking her fingers up his chest, “Oh? I would have to agree. Perhaps…,” her fingers reached the color of his shirt, pulling him towards her. Only centimeters away, she brushed her lips ever so lightly over his, “we shall have to do this again sometime.” With a smile, she stepped back, leaving him rather dazed and confused.
"Right….yes….right, of course." He sputtered, trying to regain his composure. "Most certainly."
She chuckled, starting to turn away before realizing something and turning back to him. “Oh, and one more thing. The only people who work in my bar are women, and my girls…they don’t really trust men. If you want to get anything worthwhile out of them, you’ll have to…well, change your appearance a bit. They only trust women, Basil. You’re a genius, so I’ll let you think that one through.” With a smirk, she blew a kiss in his direction. “Ta-ta!” Elizabeth spun on her heel and sashayed out of the cafe, leaving Basil to stare wide eyed after her.
With a long sigh, he pulled a hand through his hair. “What the bloody hell have I signed myself up for…”
———————
The following morning, Basil found himself in front of a large mirror in the bathroom. He had made absolutely certain that he was alone. It wasn’t that he particularly cared if anyone saw him, but he didn’t want any distractions or annoyances while he was making his preparations. This would he the first time that he had to go to this much effort for his appearance while he investigated a case, but at some point he had deemed this situation deserving of such extensive preparations.
With a sigh, he pulled a small vile out of the bag he had brought with him. The potion was a deep shade of red, but there wasn’t much of it. Just enough to last ten hours. He popped to open and brought the vile up to his lips, hesitating for a moment. “Well,” he muttered to himself. “Here goes nothing.” With that he drank the potion which he had spent the previous night brewing, finding it oddly sweet tasting. The effects took place immediately, and he could feel his body shudder for a moment, before he grew still again. To say that he felt strange was a bit of an understatement.
Cautiously, he looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes growing wide at what he saw. “Ha! I did it!” he said aloud, his voice holding an impressed and surprised tone. Basil Baker had done it; he had created a potion to add feminine features and reduce masculine features. Studying himself in the mirror, he was mildly shocked to find that he would have thought himself a woman if he didn’t know better. He couldn’t very well spend the whole morning gawking at himself in the mirror though; he wasn’t quite finished yet.
Quickly, he pulled a makeup kit out of his bag. For a moment, he silently thanked himself for taking on a case a few months ago for a make up artist. Having spent so much time with that woman at her work during the case, she had talked his ear off about makeup. He knew how to apply everything, far better than he thought he ought to know. No one had to hear about that though; such information would go with him to the grave.
For a reference point, he pulled a picture of some random witch who had been featured on the Daily Prophet. She was beautiful, with well placed makeup. That was what Basil hoped to duplicate on himself. Recalling what the woman had told him, he picked up eyeliner, carefully applying it as he had seen her do. When he was satisfied that it looked like the picture, he moved on to the foundation, then the blush and mascara. After another brief moment of hesitation, he darkened his eyebrows slightly. Then he reached for a rich red lipstick, applying it to his now-feminine lips. He glanced in the mirror, taken aback by how surprisingly…pretty, he looked.
Slightly disturbed by the odd skill he apparently had for putting on makeup, he moved on to the next step. Swiftly, he stepped out of his clothes. “B-Bloody hell!” He yelled as he took of his shirt, stumbling backwards. That potion had worked a little too well, seeing as Basil now had…breasts?! For a moment he just stared at himself in the mirror, wondering if he was really in some sort of strange dream. Just to make sure, he pinched his arm. “Ow,” he muttered, settling on the fact that this was actually happening.
Glad that he had purchased a bra just in case, he slid his arms through the straps. Only then did he realize that the article of clothing needed to be clasped in the back. He tried to reach his hands around his back to clasp it with fumbling fingers, but it was to no avail. He groaned in frustration, trying to turn around and see what his hands were doing in the mirror. “Confound it!” He sighed, still struggling to get anywhere with this. For a moment, he believed that he was close to clasping it, until his fingers slipped and he lost his progress. “Just fucking clasp already!” He shouted, his frustration growing. Finally, he dug through his back for the tag which had been attached to it upon the purchase. “Oh thank Merlin!” He shouted with glee, finding instructions written there. Finally, he was able to follow the steps, then moving on to the next few articles of clothing.
When he was done getting dressed, he looked at the mirror again. “Merlin,” he mumbled. He looked quite good, if he was to be perfectly honest. He wore a long white skirt, with a gold blouse. Next was the shoes.
After checking his watch to ensure that he wasn’t running behind, he pulled a pair of gold high heels from his bag. Luckily, the shoes were far less complicated than the bra, but as he stood up Basil nearly toppled over. He placed his hands against the wall to steady himself, realizing that it would be more difficult to walk in high heels than he had originally assumed.
He thought for a moment, eventually deciding that if nobody was here to witness this, then he wouldn’t lose his dignity. Sighing, he let go of the wall and walked slowly across the bathroom. He focused on staying steady and not falling down. After a few laps around the room he found that it helped to lean on his toes as he walked. As he walked around again, he chuckled. “What would Dawson do if he could see me now…,” Basil laughed aloud as he imagined the look of sheer shock on his best friends face if he were to walk in on him now. But perhaps Basil should just handle this case on his own…after all, he wanted his dignity to remain intact.
Satisfied with his walking, he moved back to his bag, removing a dazzling diamond bracelet and matching necklace. He put on the pieces of jewelry, then reached for the final step; the wig. It had been fairly easy to find such a beautiful wig, but it hadn’t been cheap. Nevertheless, it would serve it’s purpose well.
Carefully, like the confused shop owner had instructed him to do yesterday, he put the wig on, then looked into the mirror one final time. The brown hair with delicate curls certainly did the trick. After all of the preparation, Basil looked quite pretty. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but it was certainly different.
Something in his bag vibrated, and it took him a moment of confusion to realize that it was his mobile. He still wasn’t used to the damned thing. After pulling on his elegant black coat, he took the mobile out of his back. ‘New message from Elizabeth Abbington’, it read. Curious, he opened the message, chuckling at its words. “An undercover alias,” he muttered with an amused chuckle. “I suppose that will have to do.” With that, he slung the back over his shoulder and walked out of the bathroom, his heels clicking against the floor.
'Text from Elizabeth Abbington: Good morning, Basil. We look forward to your visit today, though I would recommend an undercover name. Something more feminine. Basila, perhaps? xoxo'
It was a Tuesday, one of Clara's favorite days, because she got to do all the research and everything to figure out what time and place to go to on Wednesdays, which was when the Doctor came. She was sitting in a small coffee shop, sipping her coffee and reading a book on the history of Cardiff, when the door opened.All the other tables were full, and the chair across from her was empty, so the person walking in found the only empty seat to be at Clara's table.
"Oh, well, I guess you're stuck sitting with me," Clara grinned, holding out her hand for them to shake.
The Doctor poked his head into the lecture hall, a wide grin on his face. He'd been bored, in between trips, and decided to stop by and visit his wife. He'd managed to catch her right as the last student was filing out of class. He ducked into the room with a grin and spread his arms wide. "Hi honey, I'm home!"
"Thank you for visiting the law offices of No, No, and I Don't Give A Fuck What You Want. Office hours are never to go away. We are currently closed," the Master said, sounding (and looking) utterly disinterested as he examined the papers in his hands.
