A thorn by any other name would hurt just as deep, or whatever the saying is.
~~~
Greg Lestrade would say Sherlock Holmes was always the smartest in the room. Whether at 221B or Scotland Yard, no ordinary person ever came close to compete with his...
While you wished the moment could last forever, a closet wasn't exactly the most comfortable. This left you two stumbling out of the closet, Sherlock's hair and tie in disarray, your dress slightly twisted and ruffled. Of course, no one was seen around, so you both kept up occasional soft kisses as you found the correct doors.
There was a time and place, after all.
Perhaps that time and place were after this gala. By now, Sherlock's collar was hiding hickeys running down his chest and shoulders while yours was hidden by a shawl you quickly took from someone's bag as you passed. They wouldn't need it, plus hearing Sherlock's laugh after your actions only made it a lot more worth it.
"There you two are," Greg sighs, taking a second before observing you two and grinning ear to ear. "Now, what did you two do? Actually, don't tell me," he was quick to dismiss his question.
"Shut up." You push Greg's face away, "what's wrong anyways? Everything seems okay,"
"That politician you said was going tonight is now missing," he tells Sherlock while you glance around only to see Jim standing at the entrance of the ballroom with a smile and a wave goodbye.
While he fumed at the sight of your dishevelled state, which didn't take a genius to deduce the reason, Sebastian had to remind him about how your choices were your own. He could and should only be happy for you.
You almost pitied the man killed. His murderer's methods were quite unpleasant.
He was long dead, but you couldn't let them know that. Clueless was key.
This was also what you assumed was the end of the night. How you wish you could plead with someone or something to let the night last forever.
"Let's get you back," Sherlock looks at you, "it's late," he points to his watch, "I'll join you two soon, just meet me at the address I just sent," he lets the messages reach their phones before exiting the ballroom with you right behind him.
"Sherlock, I can help," you could tell he wasn't too keen, regardless of your abilities.
"I promise you can help tomorrow," he puts your coat over you and calls a cab. There was no point in arguing; the night had gone by quicker than you could process, so he was right when he said it was late.
"I'm sorry, by the way," you both sat in the cab, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "About distracting you from... well, the goal of tonight,"
"The goal for tonight was to enjoy a gala with you, Y/n. We weren't going to catch Thorn with how many people were in there interacting with-" his hand felt a tight squeeze before he could finish his sentence.
"I know, but now there's a missing person and... I just want to say sorry," is all you could say before leaning your head on his shoulder. "Other than that... tonight was perfect,"
"Was it?" He looks to you.
"It was," you lean up and kiss him, "Thank you,"
"You're very welcome, my darling,"
~~~
That night, Sherlock made sure you were comfy in his room. It wasn't something you had planned, but you both felt a bit better knowing you were at least in the company of Mrs Hudson. Besides that, you were also surprised by Jim's lack of criticism of your dress, but you knew he also had other things on his mind.
The search along usual places turned up fruitless. Eventually, a patrolling officer found a body in an alleyway, which struck Sherlock as odd.
Odd until he saw the lack of markings. He knew something had happened because this was not Thorn's doing. His frustration could be felt by the whole team at the crime scene.
"What broke the partnership?" Greg nearly gags at the sight of the body, blood drained from the body and onto the street.
"Nothing, this must have been another hire," he disposed of his bloody gloves. "And as crude as it seems, but it seems it was Thorn's night off, he must have not attended the gala,"
"So that's it? All that for nothing?" John runs a hand through his hair, "there has to be another way we can find him,"
"Not tonight. Not for a while," he looks to his watch and sighs, "we'll have other chances; I'll have to wait for Moriarty to make another move,"
From a car across the street, Moriarty paid the killer a handsome amount before letting him leave swiftly into the night. "Boss, do you think Holmes will ever find out?"
"I'm not sure. I certainly don't plan on it because as much as I hate to say it... you're right," he leans on his palm, "Y/n is happy, and that's all I truly want,"
"And if he does find out?" Sebastian pulls onto the main road.
"We'll just have to wait and see," Jim looks around the empty streets. "Head back. I'll need to discuss the Rockwell meeting plans with Y/n tomorrow,"
~~~
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