Greg Lestrade welcomed the warmth of the nightclub as he stepped in. December is already icy and bleak, and for once the stuffy club a blessing from the chill.
John stayed posted near the door with a nod to him and Sherlock as both men pocketed their gloves. Greg handed his coat to the coat check, but Sherlock kept his as usual.
Greg scanned the room, eyes adjusting to the mixture of darkness, coloured lights, fairy light strands, and glittery clothes. Two Drag queens on stage set the crowded room into rolling laughter. Greg listened to their set and cackled at the banter.
Sherlock remained at his side, silent and wholly uninterested. Greg elbowed him in his side.
“We’re supposed to look like we’re out here after work.”
“Yes… we really look the type, don’t we?” Sherlock said with a mocking shake of his head.
Greg squinted and waved his hand, “Oh shut it.’
Sherlock spoke low near Greg's ear. “Yes.. plan is, the suspect in question slips out during the show. That’s the suspicion, anyway. John has the front covered.”
“And Sally the back,” Greg said, rubbing near his mouth to obscure in case there was a lip reader in the crowd. “We’re set. Talked to one performer yesterday, and they said they got a big holiday number tonight. The suspect was pretty miffed they were cut from it for a new girl, apparently. They’ve been stealing all the performers’ tips, but they got motive tonight,” Greg said with a smirk as he looked around Sherlock checking John’s location.
Sherlock shrugged as if in boredom, and Greg rolled his eyes as he sighed. “Look, it’s petty crime, but apparently they know some people in something bigger.”
“Bigger?”
Greg shrugged, considering taking the jacket off of his dark grey wool suit. “Yeah… drugs maybe? Hey, the performer I talked to said they chat about having a boyfriend in some sort of criminal organisation.”
“Hmm” is all Sherlock said with a sniff and returned to the mobile.
“You know something then?”
“Yes, your information is… well… but I’ll let you suss it all out. Consider it a Christmas gift.”
Greg shook his head but turned to see their informant approaching. He’d met the person out of drag, but Greg’s jaw dropped a little at the vision before him. Very fishy as the drag queens say, Greg mused as the informant slinked over in a red sequin gown.
She leaned against the bar, and Greg mirrored her.
“Hey darling, not sure if you remember—”
“Yeah… DI, after all, got to remember faces, even in disguise,” Greg said, flashing his boyish grin. “What do I call you tonight?”
“Anything you like if you keep smiling like that,” she grinned back with a wink.
Greg snickered, “So when does the show start?”
“Baby, the only show you need is right here,” the queen said. “Ms Shantala is a star just standing. You should see me dance.”
“Do I get that pleasure tonight?”
She bit her lip, tapping his arm lightly as she raised an eyebrow. “Later darling… or even later later if you like a different sort of—”
But another queen who rushed up whispering in Ms Shantala’s ear and with a quick nod she hurried off, blowing him a quick kiss.
Greg watched her walk away intently. Sherlock shot him a look and Greg shot one back chin raised. “What? I ain’t got a date for Christmas. You never know...”
“Hmm,” Sherlock murmured as she took off his scarf and placed it in his coat pocket, and glanced and raised an eyebrow at Greg.
A disinterested Sherlock wasn’t unusual, but tonight it irritated Greg.
“You got a date for Christmas so you can insult me?” Greg smirked.
Sherlock’s eyes widened and narrowed as he swallowed hard. Greg spied it and frowned.
“Of course I do not… anyway irrelevant… can we be seated for the show ?”
Sherlock pushed past him to avoid a group headed to the bar.
He contemplated the change in his friend but stored it away for later and put his thought to the task ahead.
Greg settled into his seat, and Sherlock beside him just in time for the stage lights dimmed out as the crowd cheered and clapped.
A small curtain opened as the song began, the tinkling notes of a familiar song. “Mariah Carey then” Greg murmured.
The spot landed on a figure on stage dressed in a red fur trimmed hooded floor length coat with their back to the hushed audience. They turned, but their face except for cherry red lips obscured as they moved their hand to their hood. On the lyric of “you”, they looked right at Sherlock and pointed. The piano and music came in and they lifted the hood.
Greg gasped and coughed.
Molly Hooper, dancing and lip syncing, right before them. Heavy makeup with smokey eyes and false eyelashes, but no denying it's her as she shimmied across the stage. Greg hardly noticed the two drag queens, including Ms Shantala, also spotlighted as the backup singers. Or the two shirtless male dancers, one dressed as an elf and the other as a reindeer.His stare locked on Molly dancing as she opened up the jacket revealing a body suit of red velvet with fur trim and a very low cut.
Greg’s elbow connected with Sherlock’s ribs but no response made him slap his arm until Sherlock slapped back.
Sherlock gritted out, “Why are you hitting me?”
“Sherlock. It’s Molly” Greg mouthed with exaggeration and pointed.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can see that clearly.”
Greg glanced back at her, as she dropped the coat down to just the bodysuit which the low cut matched in the back as she twirled around and she danced to the other side of the stage for a setup with a prop with a fake fireplace one of the mail dancers wheeled on. The reindeer one wheeled a Christmas tree on the other side. Shock washed over Greg on multiple levels as she slid down the side of one dancer and back up seductively as they lifted her up under her arms.
Greg turned to Sherlock, not sure if he should even stare at Molly dressed like that, dancing like that, and Greg’s blood boiled immediately. Sherlock’s eyes on his mobile and typing.
He reached across with two hands on Sherlock’s mobile. They tugged, staring at the other silently. Greg struggled, but he whispered, “Look!’ and gripped hard, yanking away the device by the time Molly danced back around to in front of them. They both glanced at her, Greg shooting her a quick smile as she looked his way. But he stared back at his friend.
Sherlock bared his teeth at him.
Greg whispered, risking leaning in. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“Sure, Graham,” Sherlock mocked.
“Fucking hell, I swear to God—“
“You can glare all you want,” Sherlock huffed.
Greg looked back as the two dancers dropped fake snow on top of her.
“I’m throttling you after the song.” Greg demonstrated it with his hand as he whispered it loudly.
“O-kay” Sherlock smirked and rolled his eyes.
“Jesus Christ...Sherlock. ”
“What?”
Defeat washed over Greg as he leaned in so Sherlock could hear him. “God dammit man, she’s singing it to you, you fucking twat.”
Sherlock frowned deep. “Its lip-sync not singing you can clearly see by her breath she’s—”
“That’s it. Oh, no… mmm no ok I’m kicking your ass after this” Greg folded his arm and then unfolded them.
‘Wasn’t there a case you were supposed to do something?" Sherlock huffed.
“Well, this is more important now.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, pay... attention.” Greg pointed at the stage, holding Sherlock’s stare.
“If I do... will you give me my mobile back?”
The last line of the song approached. “ Make my wish come true” and Greg sucked in a hard breath. “I’m gonna kill you. “
“Fine!”
As the last “ You ” note started, Sherlock leapt up on stage and kissed her at the high note, holding her tight to him.
Crowd whooped and hollered and Greg sat stiff still with his jaw nearly on the floor.
Greg’s, and Sherlock’s mobile buzzed. Text from John about the criminal being in custody. Greg cocked his head to the side in thought, trying to piece it all together.
When he looked up at the stage, he saw the reason the crowd cheered again. Molly jumped up and wrapped her legs around as Sherlock placed his hands under her bum for support. Greg’s smile crept in despite the confusion and he clapped, forgetting the mobiles in his hand and nearly dropping them before shoving them in his pocket.
Ms Shantala cackled into the mic, “Yaaasss gurl yaasss! Climb him like a tree! We love love! Merry Christmas indeed, Sherlock Holmes!”
Greg stared at the couple now still clinging to each other but chatting with Ms Shantala as they exited the stage with a bow to much uproar and whistling from the crowd.
He smugly strode around the crowd to find Sherlock helping Molly put the coat back on.
Greg chuckled as he folded his arms “So—”
“We’ve been dating 6 months.” Sherlock smirked.
Once more thrown off. “What?” He glanced back and forth between Sherlock and Molly.
Molly bit her bottom lip and grinned, “It’s true. It was all part of the setup.”
Greg huffed. “Well, I was certainly distracted but not so sure about the suspect—”
“It’s really simple, George—”
“Greg,” Molly said, smacking Sherlock in the chest with her free hand.
Sherlock smirked at her, and then back at Greg. “Gregory, the suspect knew you were here, but he thought you would have arrested him. Us watching the show so intently, he saw your preoccupation and assumed he could leave unencumbered. He did not however bet on me, or John or Scotland Yard you placed outside.”
Greg rubbed his forehead and down his face, smiling wearily. “You could have just told me... any of it… all of it. I mean, congrats. God, I’m chuffed but… helluva way to find out. Next time just tell me.”
Sherlock glanced down at Molly, and they shared a mischievous smirk together.
Molly looked back at Greg, “Well now where’s the fun in that?”
This is the mod fanfic gift for @ukthxbye , who wanted a certain sentence used in a Sherlolly fic.
“That’s probably just how it is.” Molly sighed as she sipped her tea and turned to look at her brother-in-law. I will never manage to surprise Sherlock, no matter how hard I try. And trust me, I have tried. He is worse than a little boy at Christmas sniffing around under the tree.”
Mycroft smiled slightly at that. She could see that was an apt description of Sherlock. Quite possibly, that was what he had been like as a boy; Sherlock didn’t have many concrete memories of his childhood, thanks to the conditioning done after his poor little friend’s death. Now, he was piecing together things with the help of his brother, but yes. It had lead to some very sleepless nights while Sherlock had doubts about a great number of things.
But never her. Never them. And she was so eternally grateful that one good thing had come out of this mess.
“What, exactly, are you trying to keep a secret from him?” Mycroft asked before taking a sip of his own tea. “Your upcoming blessing?”
Molly’s eyes widened and then she glared at Mycroft. “If you say one word, Mycroft, I swear, I’ll stick your umbrella up your arse...with the sword uncovered.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, Sherlock is oblivious. He thinks you’re keeping a different secret, that you’re leaving your post. You could wave the test under his knows and maybe then he’d realize your frequent sick days aren’t a protest, it’s morning sickness.”
The mere mentions of the words “morning sickness” gave her stomach a lurch and she made a face. “I am not suited for pregnancy.”
“I know of many top obstetrics and gynecology doctors. Most of them female. When Andrea had her child, she researched everyone in the country. I’m sure she’ll share with you.”
“How is she, by the way? Have you seen her since she left your service?” Molly asked.
Mycroft nodded. “She asked me to be the godfather.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “And you did say yes, right?”
“Not yet.” He frowned. “What could I possibly offer her son that she won’t already give him?”
“A safe place in case anything happens to his mum or dad,” Molly said, reaching over to pat Mycroft’s hand. “That’s what I gave Rosie, after everything with Mary, when John simply couldn’t. And you’ll care about him, I know you will, as much as you’ll care about your niece or nephew.” She finished her tea and then set the cup down before getting up and kissing Mycroft’s cheek. “I suppose I better tell him so he doesn’t wear a rut in the carpet thinking he’ll need another pathologist. Well, full time, anyway. He will when I’m on maternity leave.”
“I’m sure that won’t occur to him right away,” Mycroft said wryly, kissing her cheek in return. She rather did enjoy tea with her brother-in-law; it was a holdover from their time when Sherlock was away, and it was a nice bit of relaxation with excellent tea and Mycroft’s cheat days allowed from some yummy treats, though today she’d abstained. She really didn’t think herself suited for pregnancy.
She made her way home to Baker Street and when she got in, she saw Sherlock with sheet music all around him, scribbling a few notes here and there. She moved behind him staring over his shoulder. “Anything interesting?” she asked.
“I haven’t been able to get this out of my head,” he said.
“What kind of tune is it?” she asked as she tilted her head.
“A soft piece. Something...soothing, I suppose,” He looked up at her. “Enjoy tea with the ice lord?”
“As usual, yes,” she said, leaning over and dropping a kiss in his hair. “Though not as much as usual. The thought of sweets today made me feel ill.”
Sherlock frowned. “So you’re really ill? You’re not just staging a sick out?”
She nodded. “Morning sickness is a right pain in the arse, it really is.” She pointed to the music. “Would that make a good lullaby? Because we might need one in eight months or so. Give or take.”
She watched as the last few sentences she’d said whirred about in his head and his brain struggled to compete. “Morning...sickness?” he finally got out.
She nodded again. “Common side effect of pregnancy, yes. We might want to make sure we stay stocked in saltines, at least until the first trimester is over. After that, I’ll probably have to consult an OB/GYN if I’m still having issues. Andrea has a list of the best in the country, apparently.”
Sherlock scrambled to his feet and gently placed his hands on either side of her waist, looking down, before moving to frame her face, a wide smile blooming on his face. “You’re pregnant?” he asked, his tone a happy one of wonder.”
“Yes,” she said with a soft chuckle. “About a month, I think, only because I haven’t done blood work to confirm.” She was going to say more but he swooped in for a kiss, gently pulling her against him, and she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. “So,” she continued when he was done snogging her. “You’re happy?”
“Very.”
“Good.” She gave him another quick peck on the lips. “Then go tell people. I’ll let you share the good news with your mum and Dad and John and Greg. I’ll tell everyone else.” He gave her another quick kiss and then went for his mobile. Yes, he was beaming and quite happy but as Mycroft had said, he was quite oblivious to the fact, and she idly wondered if they ever went through this again if she could surprise him twice...
End of the year writing meme -- A, D, F, H, N, R, S, U, V, and Z. :)
also: ukthxbye said: R and U for the end of the year writing meme:) and simplyshelbs16xoxo said: A, M, P for the writing thingy
Thank you again, ladies & fellow authors, for the asks; there are few things that rival my love of writing, but having the chance to discuss my writing comes pretty close! ;-)
As the Christmas crunch has hit me full tilt this weekend, I’m going to answer this over several posts (also, because I’m dreadfully long-winded, and I don’t want to put any readers to sleep!). So here goes part one…
A. If you could rec a piece of music to accompany one of you fics, what would you pick? Why?
I’ve always been greatly inspired by music–it’s always had the power to move me down to my soul…so for certain characters that I hold dear, I have music that reflects them and gets right to the core of some pivotal moment they are experiencing. Most recently it was ABBA’s Andante, Andante as performed by Lily James in Mamma Mia II this past summer
–refective of my OFC, Teyla, over the last few published chapters of Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight.
As I sat in the movie theater, from the very first line of the song, and the first strains of it’s lovely melody, I felt it was exactly Teyla’s song–for I was in the midst of writing the latest chapter, in which her slow-burn romance with Stephen Strange is finally (and beautifully, if I don’t say so myself) consummated.
D. Any drawings or pictures that had a big influence on your writing?
Probably half of my works have been inspired by either pictures (in character or not) or drawings of My Muse (and Beautiful Obsession)! And there remain a good share of ideas that I haven’t yet had the time to flesh out and bring to life. Most notably there was a photo of Benedict Cumberbatch from the publicity run up to Star Trek: Into Darkness; posed with a classic car on an arid California roadside, dressed in a spotless white tee & black leather pants, with his Khan-darkened hair *pauses to fan self*–he became John Harrison on the run from Admiral Marcus’s henchmen, pre the events of the movie, in A Khan By Any Other Name.
I also started a fic (In the Eye of the Beholder) about the youth of Richard Plantagenet based on a still from The Hollow Crown series. Benedict’s Richard looking darkly handsome, dangerous, sultry, in blue velvet–-a dark, magnificent prince with a cankerous heart; a villain so skillfully imbued with enough of a painful backstory (oh how his mother so cruelly rejected him!) by the Actor, that this author just had to plumb the depths of his childhood & teen years to discover why he turned out so duplicitious and power hungry (spoiler: there was a teen love affair that also broke his heart, thanks to his mother’s interference).
A Time and Place for Misbehavior was sparked by photos & footage of Benedict’s tipsy acceptance speech at the 2014 British GQ Men of the Year awards dinner, while Whiskey Kisses was inspired by his performance of ‘Sonnet 155′ in May 2010. And pictures of the dashing Major Jamie Stewart from War Horse were the seeds for The Secret of Salvation. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture–BC truly is the Muse for most of my works!
F. What stories are you planning for the future?
So many, many, many ideas, and too, too, too little time! I’ve got a good dozen draft documents with initial paragraphs & notes just waiting to be dusted off and brought to life-–but I’ve also got a bunch of long-running WIPs that need attention first. A couple of my favorite ideas are Sherlock related; a fic that will explore how Sherlock came to play the violin (an idea conceived well before S4 and the reveal of Eurus), which will also feature teenaged Mycroft and a youthful sibling rivalry (mostly on M’s part); and a character study of what is going on in all the minds of Sherlock’s family & friends while they wait to see if he survives his gunshot wound in His Last Vow, which will prominently feature Mycroft & Molly.
H. How do you write? Paper, pen, computer? Music, no music?
Currently, I work either on my tablet or small laptop, but I also keep a notebook & pen on my nightstand for those times I wake up with a plot detail or perfect bit of dialogue. I’m so used to writing with the television playing as white noise in the background, I know it would be hard to adapt to silence–and as my work area doesn’t have easy access to play music (and I don’t have a smart phone or an I-pod) I don’t know if music would actually serve my best interests…although I’ve will play songs repeatedly on my headphones should they fit the piece I’m working on, and I have access to public wifi.
I guess that will do it for today; hope I didn’t put anyone to sleep! And thank you most kindly if you read this entire post through–you are a trooper (or at least a gluttoin for punishment, but that is not the deadliest sin, n’est-ce pas?)
If anyone is interested, all the stories I’ve listed can be found on AO3, where my pen name is BeautifullyObsessed.
ukthxbye replied to your post: “Someone save me from the hell that is Doctor Who series 11 discourse.”:
It hasn’t even aired yet...sigh. Nobody hates Doctor Who more than Doctor Who fans.
hipsterbrigadier replied to your post: “Someone save me from the hell that is Doctor Who series 11 discourse.”:
a few years ago I decided to mostly leave the doctor who fandom, I've loved Capaldi's era and I am really looking forward to Jodie but I just don't care about talking about it anymore I just want to enjoy it xD
I freely admit, I love a bit of drama and discussion. But usually my dash is a pretty good place to just feel happy about the show... with a new era of Doctor Who, it seems nowhere is going to be “safe”. The whole debates about (the lack of) returning characters or romantic storylines in series 11 just makes me want to tear my hair out. Why do we do this to ourselves.
It’s amazing how some people can hold a grudge for so long when they CAN’T EVEN PROVE WHY TJLCERS ARE TOXIC. For the last several years, you can’t supply a shred of evidence why Johnlockers are worse than you and your friends, except -- “Ew!! They’re so mean because they don’t like Molly!!! And they just want to see John and Sherlock buttfuck!! Ew, John is gross and abusive, just like Jlockers!!! I tried being nice to me once but they just laughed and said, ‘bye’ and honestly I was threatened, THEY’RE SO RUDE!! SHERLOLLIANS ARE LOVE BUT I HATE JLOCKERS!!!”
You can’t come up with anything to say about us that’s damning, all you can do is talk trash; just because we ship Sherlock with someone else doesn’t make us bullies.
We get it, we know you’re talking about us. Even Mizjoely didn’t join in your little dig there and you felt more inclined to talk dirt when you probably weren’t even around when “shit started flying” in the first place. Why can’t you be like your little buddies and get the fuck over whatever WE apparently did to your BNFs for the “past several years?”
You don’t have to mention US in every conversation you have with your Sherlolly friends. Are you that o b s e s s e d with us?
Remember thegameisnow app? Yeah, your ship doesn’t have any more power than the Titanic did. In fact, you definitely sank faster. Heh.
Um. I hate to say this, but if I absolutely had to pick ( I’m sorry, I love you all, you’re so lovely) and I can’t choose the entire Ward storyline in Agents of SHIELD, (If I can, that’s my answer) then I hate to say it but other than Groot (because Groot is always exempt) the plot of Guardians of the Galaxy 2 was probably my least favorite.
And you should be ;) my football bae Hazard got two today!
to be honest, lukaku and hazard can just straight up grab the ball and run at our goal, tossing the ball to each other like a game of quidditch and I’d probably thank them for it. I’d be blessed to be destroyed by such a wonderful team
