Sherlock Fan Fiction

Chapter 8

It took about a 20 minute taxi rode to get to the ball. When we got there, the guys stepped out of the car and each held a door open for me, which was a little awkward.

When I chose a side to get out on, John immediately offered me his arm, and I took it. Sherlock walked in beside me, and gave our fake names to a man with the clipboard. He checked his list and gave us the okay to proceed inside.

My fake name was Anna Jones. John's was Thomas Jones, and he was pretending to be my father. Sherlock's was William Scott, and he was a close family friend.

I walked into the ballroom and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer size and detail of the ballroom before me, but I never lost composure.

This is just like drama class, I said to myself. You are playing a character. Own it.

I stood up a little straighter. I heard people bustling around saying to find a partner for a waltz. John held out his hand and gave a funny little bow.

"May I have this dance, my angel?"

"It shall be my honour, father dearest," I replied with a smile and a wink.

I must say, my uncle is a delightful dancer. He kept reassuring me that I was going to be great and this will all turn out fine in the end. Words of encouragement. Just like a real father.

When the song was finished, we applauded the orchestra. Then, Sherlock tapped John's shoulder.

"May I?" he asked, holding his hand out to me.

"Certainly," I replied with a smile.

"I'll be at the bar if you need anything," John whispered, before he walked away. The music began and Sherlock and I took a dance position.

Sherlock was surprisingly light on his feet.

"Where did you learn to move like that?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, as a child, my mother told me to be more social and confident. What's more reassuring than having your son prance around in leotards?"

This made me laugh. The only time I had truly laughed in a long time.

"So, are you ready?" he asked.

He was trying to make small talk. Before I could answer, he twirled me twice.

"As i'll ever be." I responded while he twirled me then dipped me.

"Wow," was all I could say.

When the song ended, we clapped again. And, before Sherlock could escort me to our table, a man tapped him on the shoulder.

"May I?" he asked.

"Um... sure," I said.

Sherlock looked a little hesitant to let me go, but he did anyway.

He escorted me to the middle of the dance floor, he bowed, I curtsied. And, we began to waltz again.

"What's your name?" he asked, with a charming smile.

"Anna. Anna Jones. And you are?"

"Ralph. I say, you and your father dance remarkably well together."

"Oh, no. William isn't my father. He is a close family friend, almost like an uncle. My father is over at the bar."

"Oh. My mistake. It's just that, you two look quite a bit alike."

"Ya... many people tell us that. He tries to spend a lot of time with me because... he's my godfather, actually," I lied. I tried to make our backstory as convincing as possible.

"Really? Wow. How did they become friends?"

"They met when they were kids." Lied again.

"Hmm... interesting."

The song was drawing to a close. He pulled me in so that his mouth was almost touching my ear.

"Well I do hope that you are enjoying my ball. Charlie. Do say hi to your uncle John and friend Sherlock, or, should I say your father 'Thomas' and godfather 'William.'" He grinned when he saw my face filled with disgust.

I felt like I was about to be sick.

Oh no. He knows. My cover is blown. He is the killer.

Then, he unexpectedly slapped me, and I lost focus for a minute. I was stunned.

He ran away and John and Sherlock ran over to me. When I regained my balance, I ran after him, with John and Sherlock following behind.

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