Sherlock's Costumes: Away With The Faries

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Sherlock's Costumes: Away With The Fairies

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John felt utterly ridiculous.

"I really do hate you, you know that, right?"

"You've said" Sherlock smirks "Eleven times now" He adds chuckling softly.

John growls, glaring at the stupid, smirking detective.

He's a fairy, for God's sake! Dressed as a damn fairy. At least, he thinks, he has pretty, sharp (fake) daggers and his gun (real) tucked into the back of his tutu. It didn't stop him feeling ridiculous. Seriously, did he have to be a fairy?

This case was important. He knew that. And Sherlock had looked so excited when he babbled on, telling John about their new client, that he just couldn't say no when Sherlock said they'd need to dress up.

They were currently at a live action roleplay. Females from a fairy tribe had been being killed during the events and in a moment of desperation, and worry for his his daughter's life, the 'Fairy King' had contacted Sherlock. Asking him to take up a role and find the killer without causing too much commotion. The event organisers wanted everything to be kept on the down low and a private detective was the perfect solution. 

So John didn't mind too much. If he had to dress as a fairy to save lives, so be it.

Plus, Sherlock looked petty good in his costumes. A war elf.

John takes a moment to look over the detective as he rambles on about the case. 

He had a long brown coat/cloak on that reached his ankle, just skimming the floor. His 'armour' was a darker shade of brown and with his hood up, you couldn't see much of his face. All you could see were his cold (beautiful) eyes and the blood red war paint that was covering his cheekbones in two thick stripes. On either side of his hips were slings, a menacing dagger in each (also fake).

He couldn't currently see it but John knew Sherlock's arse looked as fabulous as ever in those brown leather leggings. Although, John definitely preferred the tight 'club jeans' as he'd dubbed them.

"Done checking me out yet, John?" Sherlock asks in that rumbling deep voice of his.

Despite his rapidly growing blush, John smirks as he runs his eyes up from Sherlock's toes to his eyes. "Not quite" He answers, throwing a wink at the detective.

Sherlock rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.

It had been nearly four months since The Sadistic Ex case and Sherlock was now no stranger to having John's eyes running over him. Nor was he a stranger to the way his pulse increased when John did so.

Sherlock would often share at John, rather openly, and countless flirty comments were exchanged. The hints were far from subtle and even Anderson had noticed the changes.

Neither of them, however, seemed to have the guts to take it further than looking and overly suggestive dialogue.

They both saw the other looking, obviously interested in more ways than one, but they did nothing. Idiots.

"Right!" Sherlock claps is hands, almost bouncing with excitement. "Let's go! People to see, a killer to catch, fun to be had"

He's out of their tent in flash of brown.

John rolls his eyes, adjusts his tutu, and follows after Sherlock with a smile.

*

"Ah.. So you're Mister Holmes..." The princess fairy smirks, her tiara's ruby shining with the same pride as her smile.

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 04, 2014 ⏰

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