Fight for Me

Chapter 50

"Are you ready?" Sherlock signed, a hint of concern hinted in his warm blue eyes. Lydia offered him a reassuring smile, concealing the way her heart was racing in her chest. Her life hung in the balance, but if they were successful she would finally be free.

Sherlock approached her soundlessly with the length of kevlar he had obtained, wrapping it around her shoulders. Her breath hitched as the fabric made contact with her bare skin, praying that the Foundation wasn't hearing the changes in her heart rate and breathing. Dressed in a camisole to limit the amount of fabric that Sherlock would have to deal with, Lydia was suddenly thankful for the limited clothing as her body felt as though it were on fire as Sherlock carefully worked to move the kevlar between her skin and the chain.

Once the locket was sitting completely on the kevlar, Sherlock pulled on a pair of thick rubber gloves and began the show, "Lydia?"

"Hmm?" She replied, turning a page of a book, making sure the noise was loud enough to be picked up by the bug.

"That locket, I've noticed that you've been wearing it quite often, but I cannot remember that being the case when we first met."

Sherlock brought his hand down to the locket, wrapping his fingers around it as Lydia replied, "oh well, you must have forgotten. It belonged to my nan and I've taken to wearing it every day to remind me of her."

"See, I would love to believe that, but I wouldn't have forgotten a detail like that. I scrutinized you the day I questioned you at the flat. I would have noticed the locket. The first time I remember you wearing it was the day you went out to get the shopping and were gone for more than an hour. Can you explain that?"

"Perhaps you've just gotten it wrong, Sherlock, it can happen."

"Open it," Sherlock demanded, tightening his grip around it.

Lydia's voice faltered slightly as she lied, "there's nothing inside, I just wear it for the memory of my nan."

"Then show me."

Lydia sighed, allowing Sherlock to ease the locket open, revealing the bug. Lydia gripped the kevlar, lifting it away from her skin as Sherlock ripped the chain from her neck, causing the little needles of poison to shoot out, getting stuck in the kevlar. He dropped the locket to the ground and smashed the listening device, Lydia sinking to her knees as relief flooded through her. She removed the kevlar from her shoulders and started laughing, though she wasn't quite sure why.

"You should have gone into acting, Sherlock, you're not half bad at it," she praised, resting her head against the couch cushion, remaining on the floor.

Sherlock gave her a smile, "I'm afraid I would be absolutely bored out of my mind."

"It's insane, innit? To think that I can speak freely again without fear that I'm going to be injected with some powerful-as-all-hell venom."

"Technically, it was a poison."

"Oh, shut it," Lydia retorted, kicking his leg lazily. "Let me enjoy the moment."

"Unfortunately, I can't let you do that. You need to go get dressed, we have a party to crash." Lydia groaned upon hearing Sherlock's words, but allowed him to help her up from the floor, knowing that she could celebrate her bit of freedom after stealing the data necessary to bring down the Rose Foundation.

Sherlock watched her as she disappeared into his room, which he had given up to her so she could get ready for the party. Sherlock himself was already dressed, all he needed to do was throw on his tuxedo jacket and smooth back his curls. While he thought he was inconspicuous enough without having to use pounds of product in his hair, John had thought it best to be safe considering Sherlock was continuously gaining fame.

"I take it it worked then?" John asked as he descended the stairs dressed in his own tuxedo, noticing the mess of kevlar tossed on the floor and the smashed locket.

Sherlock nodded, "did you have any doubts?"

"No, but I really did not want to have to watch my childhood friend's life put in immediate danger if I could help it. She's doing alright, yeah? I'm sure that must have been extremely traumatic for her."

"She was quite overwhelmed with relief when she didn't die, but I'm sure that will all be sorted by the time she finishes getting ready. I wouldn't worry too much about her, she knows what she's doing and has handled far more than this." Sherlock opened the jar of gel he was using to smooth out his hair and grimaced, causing John to roll his eyes at Sherlock's childish opposition.

In Sherlock's bedroom, Lydia slipped into the silver gown Sherlock had managed to procure for her, a sense of giddiness swelling up. She hadn't dressed like this in weeks, not since the charity event, and there was something so magical about having an evening gown to hide behind. It was a costume, something that made it far easier to slip into her carefully crafted character.

Once dressed, she began her makeup, putting on a bit more than she would have normally. The goal was for her not to be recognised and she had a feeling that dramatising her makeup would achieve that effect. As a finishing touch, she pinned up all of her hair, covered it with a bald cap, and then pinned a blonde wig to her head. It was already styled into an intricate updo, making her look like a completely different person. She smiled at her reflection, proud of what she had accomplished.

There was a knock on Sherlock's door and she called out for them to enter as she touched up her eyebrows, making sure that the shade matched that of the wig, before turning and flashing John a large smile. She stood and let the skirts of her gown cascade to the floor, giving him a little twirl to get the full effect.

"What do you think?"

"Lydia, wow, I barely recognise you," John exclaimed, his mouth hanging open slightly.

Lydia let out a small laugh, "well that is the point. I have to admit, I'm enjoying the blonde hair quite a bit. I'm assuming Sherlock sent you in here to tell me to hurry up?"

John nodded, "yeah, he wants to get in and out as soon as possible so we can get this all over with and make sure your friends are out of danger as well. He has some earrings for you, he's put a tracker in them as a precaution. I think he's just a bit nervous not having us linked with communication devices."

"Right, let me just toss on my shoes and I'll be right there," Lydia replied, slipping on her silver heels. She grabbed her purse, storing within a blank memory stick in the guise of a lipstick so that they had something to download the information down onto.

She followed John out into the flat, finding Sherlock pacing around his arm chair. He perked up and his eyes widened upon seeing Lydia, drawing in a sharp breath at her ethereal presence. But before John could notice his temporary weakness, Sherlock grabbed the jewelry box with the diamond chandelier earrings, holding it out to Lydia.

Recovering from seeing him with his curls smoothed out, Lydia quickly flashed him a smile and took the box from his hand, her fingers brushing his lightly during the exchange, causing Sherlock's eyes to flicker down to their hands. Lydia quickly pulled back, as though Sherlock's skin had shocked her, trying to cover up her quick reflex as she opened the box and admired the gorgeous earrings. They were real diamonds, much to her surprise, and she hesitated as she lifted them out of the box as she had never worn anything this expensive before.

"We really must get going, you can admire them later," Sherlock snapped, turning from her and grabbing his tuxedo jacket.

She muttered an apology as handed the now empty box to John, putting in the earrings before Sherlock lost his temper. After that finishing touch, Lydia quickly followed Sherlock down the stairs, John behind her. The three of them piled into the cab waiting for them, ignoring the strange look that the cabbie gave them upon seeing them so dressed up.

-

(A/N): We love Sherlock and Lydia trying to act not in love as though John isn't already planning their wedding ❤️ I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and are happy that she's now free from the locket if not the entire foundation (I hope that bit wasn't too anticlimactic)