The Man With The Umbrella

- 73 -

After Allison was able to store her jet safely in one of the garages, the nine ladies walked out of Las Vegas' airport with the suitcases in tow and heads held high. Heads turned from other tourists and passers as they strutted through the building with little care of the world and a few noticed Amelia for the artist that she was.

Spending half of the hour signing autographs and taking selfies with fans, she blushed red and ordered the girls to continue onward.

"The Play Bunnies?" A short, blonde headed, sharp dressed man called out questionably whilst holding out a white sign. "The Play Bunnies?" Amelia repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. "That was my idea." Jolene answered. "You know, considering that -" Mary continued only for Adya to interrupt. "You modelled for PlayBoy." Anthea finished with a modern smile graving her face.

"Come on, ladies. We've a busy day and a figure in the British government has made sure all areas you will be in over the weekend are safe and guarded." The chauffeur stated. Amelia smacked her hand over her forehead just as the Watson women shared a laugh. "God, my husband is so dramatic."

Darren, as the women would learn to know him by, guided the ladies to the private pink limousine and drove them to the popular areas before dropping them off at a five star hotel.

Naturally everyone apart from Harriet took advantage of the minibar inside the vehicle and took turns balancing on the seat in order to stand through the roofs window singing terribly to Elvis Presley's, Viva Las Vegas and experiencing the night life of a city populated in gambling.

After an hour of touring the city, Darren drove them through towards the entrance of the pristine hotel and bid the girls a fair evening.

Walking into the lobby of the hotel, Anthea and Jolene checked them in and a clerk collected their luggage to place in their respectable rooms.

They all decided that they needed an hour or so to relax in their rooms and Amelia found it the perfect time to call Mycroft. She dialled his number, removing her headband ears and heeled shoes whilst pacing around the room, admiring the view. "Hello, Amelia." Mycroft started with. He heard her giggling so girlishly before hiccuping. "Started drinking on the jet, I take it?" He stated with no malice in his tone. "I'm calling to tell you..." She drawled whilst scrunching her brows. "That you've arrived?" Mycroft questionably stated. "Yeah! I'm here." She settled to say, not completely drunk but definitely merry.

He heard her fumbling about and muttering swear words as she tripped on a step. "Hey, you could fit Africa in this bathtub." She stated seriously before bursting into giggles. Mycroft had to remove the phone from his ear so the noise didn't deafen him. "I hardly doubt that, my dear." He answered back with a smarmy smile on his face as he sat back in his offices chair, laying his feet on the desk.

"You would know, of course about big things fitting in tiny places." She snidely remarked in a sexual innuendo. Mycroft was in the middle of drinking a cup of tea before choking momentarily in surprise with eyes wide in alarm. "I pride myself in such a fact, Misses Holmes." He responded back in kind.

Amelia collapsed on the bed whilst covering a side of her face and whispering into the phone. "God, you're so big!" She stated at random whilst dragging out her sentence. She heard Mycroft laugh lowly at her silliness. "Mycroft?" She asked in all seriousness. He knew that he would regret responding but he did anyway. "Yes?"

"May I be blunt?" She continued to ask flirtatiously. "It already sounds as though you have past the pretence of politeness."

"I miss your cock." She stated before bursting into fully blown giggles. "Behave, Delilah." He ignored her jargon language with a roll of his eyes and his baritone voice lowered making Amelia moan a little over the phone. She decided to indulge him. "Or what?"