Tale As Old As Time (JohnLock)

Tale As Old As Time

A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! Here is another chapter!! I changed Irene Adler's character from The Enchantress to the Wardrobe mainly because I thought it would be incredibly hilarious to have the lesbian dominatrix be the wardrobe (Get it?? Because she is essentially trapped in a closet?? Hahahaha please don't judge me I haven't slept in a week...) anyways....Enjoy<3

Sherlock walked up the stairs to the room Lestrade had directed him to, fighting back a wave of nerves. He had no reason to be nervous, after all, he was only talking to John. In a ballroom. Dressed in fancy clothes.  

This wasn't good.

He stepped into the empty room, catching sight of a large, ornate wardrobe in the corner.

"H-hello? Lestrade told me to come talk to you."

"Well, well." A voice purred from the wardrobe, the doors opening slightly. "Aren't you a pretty thing?" Sherlock shifted uncomfortably, it felt as though he was being appraised. "You must be the new prince everyone is talking about."

"I-I'm not a prince-"

"Well, not yet at least." The wardrobe shuffled towards him, moving far more gracefully than a massive cabinet should be able to. "My name is Irene. What's yours?"

"I'm sure you know my name by now, Miss Adler." The wardrobe walked around him, clucking her tongue as her eyes raked over his form.

"Yes, but I want to hear you say it. I can only imagine what it sounds like in that dark voice of yours."

"Sh-Sherlock."

"Hmm, well Sherlock, what can I help you with today?"

"I-I need an outfit. I am supposed to meet John in the ballroom soon and I was told I needed to dress appropriately."

"Oh, a date in the ballroom with the handsome prince, lucky John."

"Please stop calling me a prince, and it's not a date." The wardrobe chuckled, a piece of the decorative woodwork coming off the front, acting as an arm, and tracing Sherlock's cheekbone. "Are you going to help me?"

"Of course, Cheekbones. Can't have you showing up to your first date looking like that, now can we?"

"It's not a-" The wardrobe cut him off with a loud laugh and a flurry of fabric. He tried to escape, but found the door closed. His clothes were removed, piece by piece, and replaced with a new outfit.

When the fabric stopped moving, he was spun around to face a floor-length mirror. He was stunned into silence.

"Well? What do you think?" Sherlock had been dressed in a vibrant yellow outfit, lined and decorated with gold trim.

"Please tell me you're kidding?"

"What? I think it looks good."

"I look like a fucking banana!"

"John likes bananas, if you catch my drift." Sherlock blinked, processing what she just insinuated. He blushed as the words set in. "And going by your reaction, you are quite the fan of them too."

"Please stop-"

"What's wrong? Am I wrong? I'm never wrong about this."

"Thank you for your lack of assistance. I will figure something else out-" He turned to walk away, but was stopped when Irene grabbed him by the elbow.

"Don't be so dramatic. I'm only having a bit of fun. John may like bananas, but I don't." Sherlock blinked in confusion."

"I am also gay, Sherlock."