The Most Dangerous Game | Sherlock Holmes

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"Mycroft, это ты (is that you)?"

The sudden ring of an unmistakably foreign female voice caused all three men to snap their necks in its direction.

"Galina," Mycroft cooed, tucking his arms behind his back as he smiled. "Yes, dear, it is I, and I've brought along some friends."

Sherlock's eyes zeroed in on the woman as she walked up to Mycroft. She had flaming red hair that was braided down to her middle back. Her green eyes were wide with interest and accented by the freckles that bridged her nose. The corners of her plump pink lips were turned upward; a dazzling smile as bright as the sun. She was barefoot and wore a thin white dress that was tight against her chest and flowed out at her waist, stopping right above her knees.

If Sherlock could understand the emotions racing through his mind and scratching at his scientific reasoning, he would have found that she was the most brilliantly stunning woman he had ever seen.

Yes, she was beautiful- but he had seen women more so than her.

No, it was her essence that just blanketed the room with serenity- that's what made her stunning to him- the fact that looking at her wasn't like looking at any woman walking down the street, but looking at her felt like looking at fine art dangling in a precious museum.

It was an experience.

"Friends?" Galina asked, her accent lighter this time, but raised with disbelief. "Since when do you have friends? And since when do I get to meet them?"

John coughed to hide his laughter as Mycroft's cheeks blushed. "Let me rephrase. This is my brother, Sherlock Holmes," he gestured to the tall consulting detective who had yet to remove his eyes from here, "and this is his...pet Dr. John Watson. Sherlock, John, this is Galina Ivanov."

Mycroft didn't miss the way John frowned at his introduction.

"Mr. Holmes?" Galina said, her smile widening as she hurried over to the man, lifting herself on her toes to kiss his cheeks- once to the right, then the left, then back to the right. "Привет (hello), I have heard a lot about you!

Sherlock tensed at the sudden intrusion of his personal space and the feeling of her lips on his cheeks. The woman was a lot more forward than the ones he had met, and he assumed it was because of her...slavic(?)...heritage.

He was busy thinking through the possibilities based on the fluctuations of her accent and the arc of her nose when she accosted John with the same greeting.

"Я тоже рада с вами познакомиться. Я должен вам сказать, что мне просто нравится ваш блог," she began, but when she saw the confused look on John's face, she let out a throaty laugh. "No Russian, yes?"

John's sheepish smile and the hand that scratched the back of his head confirmed it to her.

"I apologize, I am so used to Mycroft and his choppy accent, I forget not everyone knows the mother language," she explained, glancing behind her shoulder to quirk her eyebrows that the aforementioned man. She turned back to John, "I said I love your blog! Mycroft hates that I spend so much time reading it, but it is just so interesting."

"Yes, yes, John and his ridiculous hobby attract a variety of dimwitted followers. Who are you?"

Sherlock's abrupt- and frankly rude- remark caused Galina to turn around slowly to face him; her freckled arms crossed against her chest as she held her chin high.

"Жалость (pity)," she began, her bare feet making no noise as she closed the distance between them. "Are you telling me you haven't figured it out?"