Sherlock: The Lost Girl

Chapter 9: Buckingham Palace

I haven't slept in my own bed for weeks. I'm too addicted to the feeling of Sherlock's arms around me. By now John knows we're together...kind of. I'm not sure what you would call Sherlock and my relationship. We're not dating as we've never even been on a date and were not boy friend and girlfriend. We're almost more than that if that's possible.

Every case Sherlock has been on is either boring, or even more boring. He got exceptionally angry when the one case Sherlock found even the slightest bit interesting got cut short by paparazzi. He'd thrown John a hat, put a deer stalker on and thrown me a cloak. His instruction being. "Hide your face." He found one of the articles published about the incident, labelled Hat man, mystery girl and robin. He really wasn't too happy about being called hat man, John especially wasn't pleased with being called robin. However i rather liked being called mysterious.

He spent most of his time with me so you can imagine my surprise when I wake up, cold. No Sherlock and no blanket. I get up shivering and wrap my arms around myself trying to get any heat other than the small amount coming from my thin nightgown.

"SHERLOCK." Two heads turn my way one is Sherlock and the other is someone I do not recognise.

"Your not John." I say pointing at the stranger. Sherlock grins and I realise he has the covers draped over his shoulders. I walk towards him and he wraps the blanket over both of us. I then look at the people moving on the other side of his computer screen. I point at one of them.

"Your John." The John on the screen nods at me and smiles, then he goes back to talking to Sherlock.

The door bell starts ringing angrily causing Sherlock to nearly push me off the chair we are sharing. "SHUT UP." It's then that the door bursts open revealing two men in pristine suits.

The man who I suspect is the leader indicates for his friend to go into our bedroom. "His rooms that way, get some clothes."

"Who the hell are you?" I start to get angry with these men that think they can just barge into my home... They probably can, but it still feels wrong.

"Sorry, Mr Holmes, Miss Arterbury. Your coming with us." The mans friend walks out of our room with our clothes. He hands mine to me and tries to hand Sherlock his.

"Trust me Mr Holmes you will want to wear clothes where your going."

Sherlock and I both simultaneously look at the man, really look at him. When I notice the scratches on his trousers that can only be made by small dogs, I know exactly where I'm going.

                ***************
We wait patiently for anyone to arrive. When we spot John we instantly relax. He sits next to Sherlock, and I make a huge mistake and look at them, at Sherlock. We all burst out laughing. Despite all of my attempts the pile of clothes neatly placed on the table have not been touched by Sherlock. So here he is sitting in Buckingham palace wearing a sheet...

John is the one to speak again. "Do you two know what we are doing here?"

I look around at the lavish decoration. "Here to see the Queen?"

When Mycroft walks in I find it very hard to control my laughter. "Oh,apparently,yes". Sherlock says looking  at his brother agreeing. My control falters...

Too late.

We all burst into laughter for what seems like the 5th time. An exasperated Mycroft just stands and stares until the embarrassment becomes too much for him.