Treble Trouble with Sherlock Holmes (A Sherlock Holmes Fanfic)

Chapter 23: Going to the Gala

I spent a majority of Friday practicing my Symphony music. Sherlock was out for most of the day, I'm not sure where. I tried to not let it bother me that he wasn't needing my assistant services and attempted to lose myself in the music.

Saturday morning I wake up with butterflies in my stomach, though I'm not sure what put them there: the thought of running into Leonardo again at the Gala or the thought that I'm going on a date (albeit a fake one) with Sherlock. I attempt to rid myself of the butterflies by practicing some more. Sherlock is once again not here. At first, I worry that he might have forgotten or decided to not show up, but then I remember Mrs. Hudson's promise to have him ready to go at 7:30. For some reason, I think that woman is the only person in the world that Sherlock might actually listen to.

I go upstairs in the afternoon to allow myself ample time to get ready. I take a long, relaxing bath to calm my nerves. I spend an hour in front of the mirror, curling my long, red hair into flowing waves, framing my face with a few curls and effectively covering up my stitched up wound. Fortunately, the bruise is yellowing, something I'll easily be able to cover up with make-up.

I put on a full face of make-up, something I rarely do. I use blue and silver eyeshadow to match my dress and even put on some eyeliner and mascara. I cover the cut on my forehead well and am even able to lighten the bruises on my shoulders, should my shawl accidentally slip.

I step out into the bedroom and look at my dress. It reminds me of Cinderella's dress, only it's not a ballgown. I slide into it and zip myself up. This dress hugs me and makes me feel like a princess. I strap on my new silver heels and put my new earrings and necklace on. Finally, I wrap the shawl around my shoulders and look in the mirror for one final check before I leave. The blue of dress reflects in my eyes, making them pop, and my red hair shines against the silver shawl. I feel so lovely, and my confidence radiates in my face.

I check the time, and it's 7:15. I put some money, my ID, and my phone into the silver wristlet I bought with Molly and walk downstairs. I see Sherlock standing in the middle of the room, quietly bickering with Mrs. Hudson. As I reach the landing, they both turn to face me. I walk into the room, and Mrs. Hudson gasps with delight. She nudges Sherlock in the ribs with her elbow.

Sherlock gives her an annoyed look, and then he turns back towards me.

"Sophia, you look lovely," he says, sounding very rehearsed.

I look him up and down. He looks incredibly handsome. His black tux fits his lean body very well. He is wearing a crisp white shirt with a cream vest and matching tie. His hair, usually disheveled, is neatly combed, though his curls are still abundant. I notice a single white rose pinned to the lapel of his knee length tuxedo jacket.

Mrs. Hudson nudges him again. "Give it to her," she says under her voice, though I can still hear her.

Sherlock walks over to the desk to pick up a clear plastic box. He comes to stand in front of me and opens the box. Inside is a wrist corsage with three small white roses with a couple of crystal sprigs. I feel my mouth open slightly as I look up at him, realizing that it matches the rose on his jacket. I hold my right wrist out, and he fastens the corsage around my wrist.

"You two look fantastic!" Mrs. Hudson exclaims. "Stand together, let me take a picture!"

She is so excited about this. I wonder if she has kids, or if this is her only opportunity for a moment like this? I move to stand next to Sherlock and wrap my arm around his waist. He awkwardly drapes an arm around my shoulders as Mrs. Hudson takes a picture with a camera that looks like it's from the 1990s.

"Here, take one with my phone," I ask as I hand her my iPhone. "Just press the red button."

After taking what I'm sure was about 50 pictures with my phone, Sherlock removes his arm from my shoulders. "Well, we best be going," he says while he begins to walk down the stairs. I follow after him and hear Mrs. Hudson close behind me.