Chapter 17

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Sherlock hasn't contacted her in a while, so Elsa was overjoyed when his number appeared on her cell. She quickly raced upstairs to find him surrounded by books of all sorts.

"Wow," she breathed, scanning the titles. "Ok, so what do you need me for?"

"I'm surrounded,"

"I can see that," Elsa giggled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and motioned her over, "Help me look through all of these, it's going to be a book that everybody would own. Fifteen. Entry one."

She gingerly picked up a stack and started ruffling through the pages. John walked into the flat, sporting a new outfit.

"I need to get some air," Sherlock stated, looking at his flatmate, "We're going out tonight."

"Actually, I've, er, got a date." John smiled.

"Oh, John, that's wonderful!" Elsa exclaimed.

"What?" Sherlock asked quizzically, obviously not understanding.

"A date. It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun,"

"That's what I was suggesting,"

Elsa quietly grumbled, she had been forgotten by Sherlock. Again.

"No it wasn't..." John looked at Elsa, "At least I hope not,"

"Where are you taking her?" She asked.

"Er, cinema."

"Oh, dull, boring, predictable," Sherlock handed John a piece of paper, "Why don't you try this? In London for one night only."

John laughed and offered the paper back, "Thanks, but I don't come to you for dating advice," Sherlock did not take back the scrap, so John frustratedly pocketed it and walked out the door to pick up his date.

Elsa and Sherlock continued to shuffle through the books for about ten more minutes.

"Fancy catching a circus?"

"Isn't that the place that was advertised on that poster? The one you handed to John?"

"Yes, so?"

"Won't John be taking his date there?"

"Did you not just hear him? He doesn't take dating advice from me."

"So, basically, John is going to the circus with his date, and you are going to go crash it. Whether I join or not."

"Precisely,"

"May I ask why?"

"Research,"

Elsa pondered. "Sure, why not?" She shrugged.

Sherlock grinned. "Fantastic. I'll phone in for tickets right now. Get changed into something nice. Our cover story is a date."

~

Sherlock was waiting outside Elsa's flat when she walked out. He looked her up and down, noticing that she was wearing small black dress that flaunted all the right things and low heels. Her hair was tied back into a messy bun.

"You look, umm... good." He stumbled on his own words.

Elsa gave a shy smile but replied with a touch of sarcasm, "I wish I could say the same for you, Holmes, but you're wearing the exact same clothing as before."

Sherlock grumbled, "Yes, but my daily attire is more formal than what you wear."

She rolled her eyes, "Really? I only wear sweats when I don't have to go outside. I'd never dare to go out in public wearing them... Anyways, ready to go?"

He awkwardly held out his arm and she gingerly laced her arm through his. They walked outside and Sherlock hailed a cab.

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