Battle For The Crowns {A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction}

Chapter 4~ First Christmas In Eleven Years.

It was Christmas Day. I had returned from Russia early this morning with luggage loaded down with clothing, shoes, makeup, weapons (of course), and presents.
Since it was 2:30 in the morning when I returned to my newly decorated and renovated flat, I decided that sleep was for the weak, and attempted to put things away, but to no avail. I passed out on my bed at 3:47 this morning.
<<<*>>>
"IT'S CHRISTMAS!"
I heard someone yell from upstairs. I jump up, and grab my pistol from the bedside table by instinct. Then I remembered where I was, and that normal people, such as Ms. Hudson and John, do celebrate Christmas. That's why I bought the presents, just in case. Speaking of which, I needed to finish unpacking.
It was 7:30 when I began with the clothing, 7:50 when I hit the shoes, 7:55 when I put my weapons in their respective cases and hiding spots, and 8:15 when I finished with the bathroom and its toiletries.
As soon as I did that, I hopped in the shower to wake up. It was a good 15 minute shower that felt great on my sore back.
<<<*>>>
At precisely 8:45, Sherlock comes downstairs, and rapidly knocks on my flat door.
I was drying my hair while listening to my Disney music so I didn't hear him.

Look at this stuff.. Isn't it neat?

Wouldn't ya think my collections complete?

Wouldn't ya think I'm the girl.. The girl who has.. Everything?

Look at this trove.. Treasures untold..

How many wonders can one cavern hold?

Looking around here ya think.. 'Sure. She's got everything.'

I've got gadgets and gizmos a plenty..

I've got whoosits and whatsits galore..

He, ever so rudely, let himself in, and followed the sound of the hairdryer and my screeching to the music.

You want thingamabobs?

I got twenty!

But who cares? No big deal.. I want..

MOOOOOOORE...

Now, mind you, I was only in my tank top and sweatpants when he walked into my bathroom.
"Brooklyn?" He called from the doorway.
I flipped the hairdryer off and grabbed my razor from the shower, ready to attack if necessary.
"WHO GOES TH- oh, hello Sherlock." I yelled awkwardly.
"Ah, so you're going to kill me with a razor? I thought you were a lethal, trained assassin, who commands thousands of other lethal, trained assassins?" He smirked.
"I am, goddammit. You're supposed to be intimidated."
"Oh, so I'm intimidated by a 26 year old woman in a tank top and sweatpants, brandishing a razor as a weapon. Oh Jesus, I'm terrified."
I scowled at him, and then looked down and remembered my apparel.
"Well, shit. Does Ms. Hudson want to do presents now?" I asked.
"Why else would I be here, and awake at this ungodly hour?"
"Right. Well, let me put some decent clothing on, grab presents, and I'll be up in a second." I stated.
"No, you look fine. I would like to get this over with, so if you'd just grab presents and come on, that would be nice."
"Fine! Whatever!" I snapped, and grabbed a pink bathrobe, put my hair in a messy bun, grabbed presents, and ran after Sherlock, who was already flying up the stairs.
<<<*>>>
Ms. Hudson had given out her presents, John, his, and mine.
Now, Sherlock was about to give out his, to add to our tiny piles.
John had gotten a new Rolex from me, and Jumpers and Jams from Ms. Hudson.
I'd gotten a gift certificate to MAC from Ms. Hudson, and John had gotten me a little model gun, but it carried water instead of bullets. He said it was just for fun, but when Sherlock wasn't paying attention, he said that it was to shoot Sherl when he's being an arse.
Ms. Hudson had gotten a gift certificate to this nice little China shop called 'Tea Party' downtown from me, and John had gotten her a gift certificate to a nice little Beauty Parlor downtown, called 'Elite Style'.
Sherlock had gotten a new violin set of strings, tuners, and polish from me, a magnifying glass with SH carved in it from John, and a cookbook from Ms. Hudson on how to make his own tea, coffee, cookies, and biscuits. He scoffed at the idea, but put it in the kitchen anyway.
"Alright, John, Ms. Hudson.. Aaaaaaand Brooklyn." He handed them out slowly, and awaited our reactions.
"Oh, thanks Sherlock!" Ms. Hudson giggled. It was a bottle of her favorite perfume, Chanel, and a gift card to the store that sold it.
"Yes, see, I knew because I wrote a small blog on the identification of perfume." He replied proudly.
John snorted and opened his. It was a Cluedo board. A Cluedo Board. He looked up at Sherlock, who was smirking proudly.
"Since there was a knife through the other one.." He indicated towards the wall where the Cluedo board hung in all its glory.
John just sighed and replied, "thanks mate. Try not to stab this one, eh?"
I giggled and looked down at mine. It was rectangular, but fairly heavy.
I shrugged and opened it, giving up on guessing. It was a beautiful Pandora bracket.
I gasped and lifted it up gingerly. The bracelet in itself was beautiful. The three thick strands of silver were woven together delicately to form the base of the bracelet, then another thin strand was spiraled around them, to form the decoration.
There were 4 charms, a sword, a gun, a piano, and a dreamcatcher.
The sword and gun were placed on opposite sides, with the piano and dreamcatcher in the middle. They were all decorated with Tourmaline and Opal, the October birthstones.
The piano was a baby grand, and it had opals spiraling around the edge, with tourmalines on the keys. The gun was also encrusted with opals on the edge of the barrel. The sword however, had a combination of jewels on its hilt, and the dreamcatcher had feathers dancing down, with gems on them as well.
I smiled and slipped the bracelet on, and stood up slowly. Sherlock looked at me with curiosity, and I walked over to him, kissed him on the cheek, and hugged him.
"Thank you." I sniffed.
"Uh, you're welcome?" He guessed.
I let go, and hugged John and Ms. Hudson as well.
"Thanks guys. Mainly because where I.. Was, they don't have Christmas. It's too much of a distraction, and it gives people time to develop feelings for others. It's been 11 years since I've celebrated Christmas." I smiled at them all gratefully.
Ms. Hudson began crying, and hugged me, tearfully. "Uh.. Ms. H?" I asked, uncomfortably.
"Sorry, dear. I'm going to take mine downstairs, alright?" She whimpered, and trotted down the stairs.
I frowned as John mumbled something, and followed her as well.
Sherlock was sitting in his chair, using the tuner I'd gotten him, and was adjusting strings.
"Sherlock?" I asked.
"Mm." He responded, without taking his eyes off of the violin.
"Why did you get me.. This?" I indicated towards the bracelet.
"Do you not like it?" He frowned, this time looking up.
"No, I like it. God, I love it. But why, though?" I asked.
"Well, for one, I knew you'd go all out and buy the most expensive present you could find. Hence John's Rolex, Ms. Hudson gift certificate of 200 pounds to the most expensive China shop in London, and my violin strings, tuners, and polish. None of that comes cheap, especially mine. So, I figured that I'd even it out, and get you something of equal value." He explained casually.
"Oh. Makes sense I suppose."
<<<*>> Next Day, Dec. 26
I woke up to a slamming of a door, angry footsteps rushing down the stairs, and someone yelling something about it being a '6' and not a '7'. I snarled at the sound, and got up to change.
I slipped on one of my more casual dresses, shorter heels, and less fancy makeup. Hair was in a neater messy bun, and my bracelet was on.
"WILLIAM SHERLOCK SCOTT HOLMES, WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU YELLING AT 7:30 IN THE BLOODY MORNING?!" I shrieked, walking up the stairs.
"I could ask you the same question, Miss Brooklyn Clarissa Jennings." He retorted, while giving instructions to someone on a screen.
"Jesus Sherlock, why'd you wake up Brooklyn?"
"Oh! Hello, John. Did he drag you into this too? And Sherlock, where are your bloody clothes?" I asked.
"Mm, John. Face the car that backfired." Sherlock said, ignoring me.
I snorted, and walked over to the coffee table where every single file I'd given him, was out.
"These plans don't make sense.." I mumbled as I went over 'Mission Legion', for what seemed like the 50th time. "If Moriarty knew what he was doing, then they would make sense. But, if he was planning on, or accounting for stolen items, then maybe.. Maybe they aren't supposed to make sense to anyone but him. Perhaps, we need a different angle.. Or lighting? Black lighting! No.. LEMON JUICE! No.. Maybe.. They all fit together. Perhaps, this is only one of the series we need. Because half of this corridor is missing! We've been assuming the whole time. And you should never assume. So, it's probably intentional. Or, maybe the fact that he's deceiving us, helps. Ooh! That's it.
It's a series of items. Because if you see here, this word, this corridor, and this corridor is cut off. Moriarty wouldn't do that. It's not his style. So, there has to be more. It's a chain. But where would they be? These three sides are all completed, so we need the last piece. There are never more than two, because it's gets too complicated. Aghhh... But where?!" I spoke all this out loud.
"Very interesting, Brooklyn. I believe you are correct." Sherlock mumbled from the chair he was sitting in.
"Thanks. Now, we have to find the other half. Who or what would have it?" I asked.
"Haven't the foggiest. However, you said yourself that the only person Moriarty would trust, is Moran himself. Perhaps.." He trailed off, wanting me to finish.
"Of course. He'd give it to Moran. Perhaps, he'd give it to the one person he knew would never betray him, or give his life while doing so." I said.
"Brilliant. So we need Sebastian Moran to finish the plans of how he plans to get inside, take over the controls, and conquer your 'kingdom', as you so poetically put it a month and a half ago."
"Well, there's the problem. He's already conquered it. We have to use his plans, outsmart himself, and take it back. These plans are old news. So why do I have them?" I mocked.
"So you can use himself against him." Sherlock stated.
"Obviously. Now-" I was cut off.
"Miss Jennings, Mr. Holmes, I'm going to need you to come with me." A voice from the doorway said.
Sherlock and I slowly turned towards them, frustratingly.
"What for?" I snapped.
The other man glared at me, but didn't answer. He just went into Sherlock's room, and retrieved a suit.
"Please, Mr. Holmes. Where you're going, you'll want to be dressed."
"Oh, I know exactly where we're going."
<<<*>>>
Sherlock and I walked into Buckingham Palace, him in a bed sheet, and me in a dress. Polar opposites, right?
We sat down on a couch and waited for what seemed like forever.
"Sherlock?" I asked.
"Yes?"
"Are you wearing any pants?"
"Nope." He replied, popping the 'p'.
"Okay." I stated as John walked in.
We looked at each other, then back at Sherlock, and then we all busted out laughing.
"So you have a suit and tie at home, but a sheet in Buckingham Palace?" I asked.
"Uh huh."
"Pfft.." I said, giggling.
"Oh I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray." John mumbled from next to me on the couch.
I giggled and nodded.
"But seriously though, Sherlock and Brooklyn. What are we doing here?" He asked.
"I dunno." I responded.
"Here to see the queen?"
Mycroft walked in, and Sherlock said, "apparently so."
We all giggled again as Mycroft rolled his eyes.
"Just once, can you three behave like grown-ups?" He snorted.
"Well, we solve crimes, I blog about it, she kills people, and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope." John snorted.
I giggled until I saw Sherlock's scowl at Mycroft.
"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft."
"What? The hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?"
"Transparent." Sherlock retorted.
Mycroft picks up clothes and shoes from the table in front of them, and offers them to Sherlock, who declines ungracefully.
"We are in Buckingham palace, the very heart of the British Nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on."
"What for?"
I snorted and giggled at this.
"Brooklyn doesn't mind." He said.
Mycroft, John, and Sherlock all turned to me expectantly.
I shrugged and replied, "eh, I really don't."
<<<*>>>
When we finally got back to 221B, Sherlock and John insisted that I come up there with them, since we were about to leave again.
"What are you doing?" John called to Sherlock, who was being incredibly rambunctious in his room.
"Going into battle, John. I need the right armor."
Sherlock walks into the room, wearing a yellow hi-vis jacket.
"No." He stated, and ripped it off again.
<<<*>>>
We jumped out of a cab, following Sherlock down an alleyway.
"Are we here?" John asked.
"Two streets away, but this will do."
"For what?"
"Punch me in the face."
"Punch you?" John asked incredulously.
"Yes, punch me in the face. Didn't you hear me?"
"I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking, but it's usually subtext." He replied.
"Oh for God's sake." I snapped and busted Sherlock's cheek.
"Thank you. That.. Was.. OW!" He shrieked when John jumped onto his back and punched him the stomach.
"Okay, I think we're done now, John!"
"You wanna remember Sherlock, I was a soldier!"
"You were a doctor!"
"I had bad days!" (That is 1 of my favorite lines btw <3)
"Okay, now to ring the intercom." Sherlock said, still short winded. "Brooklyn, you may want to wait out here.. There's someone inside you may not want to meet.."
I frowned and nodded.
"Okay.. If you say so. I've been fancying a latte from Starbucks anyway." I replied.
Sherlock and John smiled gratefully and walked over to the intercom. As soon as they were done with the woman on the intercom, and were inside, I went down the back alleyway.
"Wait out here, my ass." I scoffed, and pulled out my two pistols from underneath my dress. They were strapped to my thighs, and so it was kind of odd retrieving them.
I could hear Sherlock faking an appearance until a new female voice said something. The speech was garbled, but there's no mistaking her voice.
Then I heard John, and he faltered a bit.
The woman must have made some form of an appearance in order to silence both Sherlock and John. 
I smirked and said, "there's nothing that reminds more of your crown, than an old target."
<<<*>>>
There was a fire escape ladder next to me, and I began crawling through it, and into the house where Sherlock, John, and Irene were speaking. There was an air duct right above me that more than likely led to them.
I crawled along for what seemed like forever, but was probably mere seconds. The sound of their voices was what led them to me, finally.
I came across a specific air vent, and looked down. There was nothing but a carpet, although I could hear Sherlock's, John's, and Irene's voices.
"Do you know the big problem with a disguise Mr. Holmes?" Irene asked in her silky voice.
I snorted silently as Sherlock didn't give an answer.
"However hard you try, it's always a self-portrait." She said.
I scowled and thought, 'how poetic. Intelligent my ass, 'dominatrix.''
"You think I'm a vicar with a bleeding face?" Sherlock retorted.
"No, I think you're damaged, delusional, and believe in a higher power. In your case, it's yourself." She soothed.
'Okay bitch, we're done, that's enough.' I thought, and busted through the air vent, causing it to land on the floor, with me jumping down right after it. Since it was only a 7 foot drop, I didn't feel anything, but the anger that she was alive.
All I got were shocked faces from the other three people in the room as I pointed one pistol at Sherlock and the other at Irene.
"Alright bitch, you know I'm supposed to kill you on sight, correct? Brilliant, let's begin." I snarled, took the safety off, and aimed to kill.
<<<*>>>
Oooh! Cliffhanger! XD I'm sorry it took a bit longer than normal, I just got busier than expected. Hope you enjoyed.. :)
Oh! And P.S., credit for the lines in the last bit goes to Ariane Devere's live journal thing. Whatever it's called.