"Do I have to go?"
Sherlock sets his suitcase down, an exasperated look on his face. "Yes. You are my woman-"
"Excuse me?"
He lets out a sigh, "Forgive me, love. Calling you my girlfriend sounds juvenile."
"Yes, but calling me your woman sounds sexist."
"Fine. You are my girlfriend, so therefore you must attend with me."
"I can't believe you got invited to a detective meeting, but Enola and I didn't," I say bluntly.
He sighs, "This organization doesn't recognize female detectives."
"They're probably just a bunch of old men that smell like cigars and desperation."
He laughs, "I'm sure they are."
I finish packing my suitcase and turn to John. "Are you not going with us?"
"No, I have stuff here I need to work on."
Sherlock takes my suitcase, much to my dismay. We say goodbye to John and walk outside. Sherlock waves a carriage over, and the two of us quickly climb inside. I watch as he fiddles with his pocket watch, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration. He gives the watch's knob one last twist before looking up at me.
"Why are you sitting across from me?"
"The carriage ride will be long. I thought I should give you space," I answer.
He slides his watch back into his pocket and moves to the seat next to me. "I'd prefer to sit next to you."
I lean my head on his shoulder, "You act like you're obsessed with me."
"Maybe I am," he says.
His arm wraps around me, pulling me even closer to him. Everyone knows him as a cold-hearted man who doesn't like physical touch, but when the two of us are together, he can't go more than five minutes without touching me.
"What are you thinking about?"
His fingers run through my hair, putting my mind and nerves at ease. "How many people are going to be at this meeting?"
"A lot."
"I don't like big crowds."
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, "I'll be right there with you. You have nothing to worry about."
"What if I trip?"
"I'll catch you."
I sit up to look at him, "But what if I embarrass you?"
"You could never embarrass me."
I frown, still thinking about every possible thing that could go wrong. Bad luck tends to follow me, and I'd hate to screw something up for Sherlock. Everyone there is going to be professional and important. All eyes will be on Sherlock, as he's the greatest of them all. Which means their eyes will also be on me, and I already know they'll judge me.
"Everything will be fine, (Y/n)."
I sigh deeply, "I hope you're right."
"I'm always right," he says.
I roll my eyes and push him lightly. He laughs, causing me to smile.
"It's weird seeing you in a dress."
I look down at myself in doubt. "Do I look bad?"
"No, you look beautiful."
He rests his head on my shoulder. I smile to myself and play with his hair.
~~°°••°°~~
The carriage comes to a stop, and a man opens the door. Sherlock quickly sits up and steps out, holding his hand out for me. I take it and step out as well, looking up at the giant hotel in front of us. Sherlock takes our suitcases from the man and stands beside me.
"This is where we're staying?" I ask.
"Unfortunately."
I look at him in shock, "This place is beautiful."
"Yes, but the people inside are far from it."
I give him a smile, "We better get inside."
He sighs but nods in response. The two of us make our way inside. My eyes are wide as I observe the incredible furniture around the lobby. This place looks like a castle.
Sherlock is greeted by a well-dressed man. "Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes."
"Good afternoon."
The man hands Sherlock a key, "You will be on level one, room twenty-seven."
The man turns to me, reaching for my hand. I give him a weird look but allow him to kiss the top of it. When he turns away, I quickly wipe my hand on my dress, not even trying to hide my disgusted face. Sherlock smiles at me in amusement, his blue eyes twinkling brightly.
"Let's head to our room."
I follow him, my eyes scanning the room around us. We make it to our room, and he sets our suitcases down. The room is huge, much bigger than Sherlock's.
"When does the meeting start?"
He hangs his coat on the rack by the door. "In three hours."
I pull my shoes off and walk to the bed. Sherlock pushes my shoes up against the wall like he always does. I should really get in the habit of not leaving my shoes everywhere.
I pull the covers back and crawl into the bed. "Come lay with me."
He takes his shoes off, leaving them next to mine, and lays down beside me. He stares up at the ceiling, his eyebrows scrunched up. I roll over on my side and stare at him. His side profile is perfect, just like the rest of him.
"What are you nervous about?"
He looks at me in surprise, "How do you know I'm nervous?"
"You may be good at hiding your emotions, but I am a detective as well. I'm also your girlfriend, you can't hide your feelings from me."
He chuckles, but the worry never leaves his eyes. I scoot closer to him and rest my hand on his chest. "We should take a nap."
"I'll wake you up when it's time to get ready."
I nod, my eyes already closing. I didn't get much sleep last night, due to my anxiety for this trip. So a nap sounds amazing right now.
~~°°••°°~~
"It's time to wake up."
I open my eyes slowly, the room is much dimmer, which means it's later in the day now. Sherlock stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his vest. I walk over to my suitcase and pull out a new dress. My ankles pop as I drag myself to the bathroom. When I'm done getting dressed I walk out to see Sherlock sitting at the desk, reading over a stack of papers.
"Sherlock Holmes! You promised to not work during this trip."
He throws the papers back in his suitcase, a guilty smile on his face. I begin braiding my hair, glaring at him through the mirror. "How did you even sneak those in?"
"I have my ways."
I finish my braid and quickly do my makeup. Sherlock watches me from the desk, a faint smile on his face. I make eye contact with him through the mirror and his smile grows. When I'm done with my makeup I step further away from the mirror to check my reflection.
Sherlock stands behind me, "I got something for you."
I give him a confused look and he holds out a necklace. My eyes stare at the shining diamonds in amazement. He goes to put the necklace on me but I stop him.
"I can't accept something this expensive!"
"Don't worry about it."
I shake my head. "It's beautiful, but it's extremely valuable."
He sighs, "I took on a case from a jeweler just so I could get you this necklace."
"What?"
"I love you, (Y/n). More than anything. Now, turn around so I can put it on you."
I turn around and allow him to latch it around my neck. My eyes focus on the dangling pearls and diamonds. I feel awful for accepting something so expensive, but I knew he wouldn't take it back.
"Thank you."
Sherlock smiles, "I saw it in the window of a jewelry store, and knew I had to get it for you. I was rather surprised that the jeweler took my help as a payment."
"I love you so much."
He leans down and kisses my neck, just above the necklace. "I know you do."
He stands back up, admiring my reflection in the mirror, "This dress is nice."
"Thank you, Timothée picked it out."
"Then I should thank him."
I roll my eyes and pull my gloves on, hating the way they tighten around my fingers. Sherlock takes my hand and the two of us leave the room. My heart pounds in my chest as we get closer to the banquet room.
"I hate these gloves," Sherlock says.
I squeeze his hand, "I do too, but a lady is expected to wear gloves when attending a special occasion."
"I want to touch your skin, not silk."
I smile up at him, "You're very affectionate today."
He raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk on his face. We walk into the banquet room and everyone goes silent. At least sixty people stare at us, some of them scowl while most smile. A short, older man breaks the silence, "Sherlock Holmes!"
The people go back to their conversations, while the man limps over to us. Sherlock nods at the man, "Edward, how have you been?"
"Good! How have you been?"
The man slowly looks over to me, "Ah, what a beauty! Much prettier than the last one you brought."
I look at Sherlock, feeling that familiar burn of jealousy. He gives me a nervous look but clears his throat. "This is, (Y/n). My girlfriend."
The man lets out a loud laugh. "Girlfriend? Sherlock Holmes has a girlfriend?!"
A few people stare at us curiously. Sherlock lets out a sigh, watching as the man slowly calms down.
"You must be very special to have gotten through to his heart. Sherlock normally brings random women he met at the bar."
"We should sit down, the meeting will start soon," says Sherlock.
Edward walks away, Sherlock tries to follow him, but I pull him back.
"Really, Sherlock? You brought random women?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
I shake my head, "Now, everyone here thinks I'm a prostitute."
Author's Note: Thank you all for 200k views. I truly appreciate you all! ❤️