Lost Grimoire Art & Stories

After all, it was Lois that helped me get a job as a reporter here.

She was the first person I met when I moved to Metropolis a few years ago. I had spontaneously accepted a job as an IT support specialist at the Daily Planet in hopes to eventually be promoted. I’ve dabbled in a few IT jobs in my previous job just enough that I was “qualified” for the position.

Lois had been the one to show me around the building. My new boss wasn’t available at the time.

Don’t ask me why it was her that walked me around because I don’t know why either. I’m guessing it was fate because her and I instantly clicked and became friends by the time the walkthrough was over.

We were exchanging numbers just as Clark stumbled into the elevator. He had come through the front main doors disheveled and looked completely out of his element. I found out later that he had been accepted as an intern reporter in the same department as Lois and was starting that same day.

I didn’t know it then, but I was about to see more of Clark in the coming months.

I took ten different visits in the first week to fix his computer before I became friends with him. I found out he’s from Kansas. He grew up on a farm. And he was terrible with technology.

But he was awkward, cute, and kind to me.

From that day a year ago, its always been Lois, Clark, and I.

For a while I wanted something more but I never felt like he looked at me the same way he looked at Lois. I would sometimes catch their silent glances while I’m fixing a printer. It was like they had their own silent language when I wasn’t around. Everyone that I’ve talked to on Daily Planet thought the same thing too. So for the past year or so, I’ve been trying my best to move on and just keep Clark and I as friends.

But it's been harder than I thought.

My thoughts slammed back into the present as I stood in front of the Daily Planet. I was hoping that I was going to beat the rush of traffic this morning.

I didn’t expect a huge crowd of people this morning. The sidewalks were so congested that I couldn’t see the pavement. But hey, the city never sleeps.

And neither do the news reporters.

Shoving myself through the crowd, I made my way up the stairs that lead into the building. Thankfully I didn’t spill a drop of coffee in the process. I crammed myself into the elevator with five other workers and let the lift take me up. It was like a pack of sardines in here, and it even smelled like one. I had to hold my breath to keep myself from gagging. When the elevator stopped at floor 15, I bolted out of there like my life depended on it.

What I was met with was bustling people, newspaper bundles all over everyone’s cubicles and multiple conversations that I couldn’t make out. I scanned the room until my eyes landed on Lois by her desk.

“Hey Kat!” Lois called, motioning me over to her desk. I didn’t wait a second to go over to her cubicle. “Come take a look at these photos.” She clicked on the image tab on the desktop, pulling up a couple pictures. Each image was blurred and looked to be taken from surveillance footage. You could somewhat make out a silhouette of a person, most likely a man by how big they were built. One was near Gotham. Another was in an unrecognizable location, most likely north of Metropolis judging by the mountain scenery. The last one looked like it was taken a few streets over from The Daily Planet. The time stamp on the top right of the photos were dated to yesterday.

“You think this is THE guy?” I pointed, setting her coffee next to her on the desk. A stack of files sat haphazardly on her desk. “Because it looks like someone either photoshopped these or it was a drone flying across multiple cities.” Lois rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure. I wouldn’t be showing these to you if I didn’t think otherwise.” She beamed, not even wasting a second to grab the coffee cup and took a sip. “I got these images from a reliable source. I trust that they wouldn’t have tampered with them.” She rubbed her eyes, the dark circles under her eyes like a flashing neon sign.

“Rough night again?” I questioned while grabbing my own up to take a sip, changing the subject. My eyes settled on the images again.

“Perry wanted another article on Superman by this morning.” She shrugged. “You know how he is with that. He always wants to know more about this mysterious hero rather than what is ACTUALLY going on in our streets.”

“Unfortunately I do.” I let out a sigh “Every time I come up here to fix his computer I have to hear him ramble on about Superman. I don’t know how that hasn’t driven you crazy yet .” I laughed, my eyes scanning the room until I spotted the man himself. Perry White was on the other side of the room yelling at another reporter. A half smoked cigar hung loosely from his lips. “I’m surprised he didn’t ask Kent to write it. He was able to get some good info on the mysterious superhero last time.”

“Lois, did you get the photos I sent?.” I felt my heart stutter as the deep voice reached my ears. I spun around so fast, almost knocking the files off of Lois’ desk.

Speak of the devil.

“C-Clark, hi! Didn’t see you there. We totally weren’t talking about you or anything.“ I cleared my throat. Shut up. Shut up. Put yourself together Kat.

I grabbed the last to-go cup and gave it as a peace offering. “Did you just get in?”

“N-No. I’ve been here for a while.” He chuckled, adjusting his glasses before accepting my offering. “H-How was the commute? It looked intense out there”

“Great besides the bustling people. I thought I was going to get here before the morning rush hour. Guess not.” I finished the last of my coffee before turning to Lois. “If you can send those images to me, I can see if Daryl can trace those images to when or who took them.” Lois nodded, working on my request right away.

“And you.” I pointed at Clark. “I need to talk to you.”

“Me? W-Why would you need to talk to me?” A creeping blush began to grow on his cheeks.

“You were able to get some info last time on Superman. I’m just as curious as anyone else about this mysterious hero. I figured I could see what you know and branch off from there.” It was a half lie. I wasn’t super curious about Superman, but I did want to spend more time with Clark. This was the way to do it. “But if you don’t want to, that’s okay. I can scope out other sources.”

“No, you don’t have to.” He stuttered. “I-I meant to say, yeah I can help you” I held back a chuckle at him stammering. His stutter and awkwardness always was flattering to me.

His mumbling brought my attention back to him.

“What did you say? I’m sorry I couldn’t catch that.”

“W-We could do it over d-d-dinner. As colleagues.” Colleagues.

Yeah…just colleagues. Just friends.

I smiled even though there was a hollow painful feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

The rest of the day went fast. One of my co-workers Daryl was working on teaching me how to switch Ram on a computer. He was the real IT genius in this department. The only things I knew how to really do was turn a machine on and off and troubleshoot computers when they crash. However Daryl and I were in the middle of tracing the images before the day ended. He and I were going to finish it and look into it further the next day.

By the time the ‘non-date’ approached, I was filled with nerves. I desperately needed his help. He always seemed to know where the best shots were taken. With his help, we might be able to uncover who Superman really is.

But I never made it to dinner.

:(

The bag got whipped out of my head. I was met with bright lights, causing me to squint and turn away. The only other things I saw were two silhouettes. My eyes traveled around me. The first thing I noticed was that I was in a chair. The next was my arms tied behind my back with zip ties. Finally, I could be moments away from giving my last breath.

I racked my brain for any sense of time, any clue as to how I got here. The last thing I remember was standing outside the restaurant that Clark and I agreed to meet. The next I’m here, tied to a chair.

“Good, you’re awake.” The voice was male, not distinguishable. “Tell us where he is!” My heart began to pound, its constant beat hitting my ears.

“Where is who? I don’t understand.” My voice sounded like sandpaper against my ears. A million questions were racing through my head. “I don’t even know why I’m here.” The man cracked his knuckles, bringing the light down so I could see their faces.

There were two men, one towards the door at the end of the room. His bulbous nose looked like it had been broken one too many times. The other one was closer to me. He had a scar vertically going down his eye.

“You’re here because we found you lurking in our data system. We traced your IP address. What do you know about these images?” The second one responded. His voice was deeper, more distinguished. The two photographs were shoved in my face.

I recognized them immediately. These were two of the photos that Lois showed me this morning. The one near the Daily Planet was missing. But how did those have anything to do with me? I swallowed hard.

“This has to be a misunderstanding. I didn’t take these photos. I don’t even know who is even in the photos.” I rambled, unable to stop myself. “They are probably photoshopped. I stumbled upon them by accident. I really have no idea so please-”

“You know damn well it’s Superman.” The first man growled at me, cutting me off. I swallowed hard, trying my best to remain calm and not have a panic attack.

“I’m telling you I don’t know!” I practically screamed. “I’m just a girl who fixes printers when they get jammed. I don’t even know why I’m in an IT department in the first place. I’m not even qualified.” I couldn’t stop myself. “If anyone, it would be Daryl. Daryl is practically a genius. He’d be able to tell you and confirm that your-” Hot pain erupted on my cheek as a fist collided with my face, abruptly shoving my face to the side.

“Shut up bitch.” The one closest to the door screamed. I bit my bottom lip, tasting blood in my mouth as something hot ran down my cheek.

“Lie again and we will do more than hurt that pretty little face of yours.” The other one taunted, taking a cloth and wiping blood off of his ring.

Oh my god I’m going to die here.

I’m going to die here and Clark is going to think I stood him up. When I don’t show up tomorrow, Lois and Clark are going to notice. They are going to find my body somewhere in a ditch all because I decided to do things myself.

This is all my fault. I should have never tried to figure out what those photos are. I shouldn’t have just let the journalist speculate who this Superman was. If I kept my nose out of it, I would be sitting at home. I ruined everything and my life is going to be the price.

“Now I’m going to ask you again.” The one with the ring pulled out a knife, pointing it towards my throat, “Who is Superman?” I glared up at the man, tears brimming my eyes. Just as I was about to open my eyes, something burst open behind me. Chunks of cement flung in the air, one of them hitting the man with the ring in the shoulder. The other one pulled out a gun, his eyes looking like saucers.

“Oh no, its-” The man didn’t speak another word before he fired bullets behind me. I flinched before throwing all my weight to one side, tilting the chair enough to fall. I collapsed to my side with a thud, my head hitting the floor. Everything moved in slow motion.

The man with the gun fired more bullets before something red and blue rammed into him. The man laid there, his eyes rolled back. His gun was a few feet away. The man with the ring didn’t have a chance to react before he too was on the ground unconscious.

Then I felt my chair move, repositioning me so I was sitting upright again. I was met with blurry blue eyes.

“Katrina, can you hear me?” I squinted, trying to focus my vision. It kept going in and out of focus. The only things I could make out were that this man was built with brown hair.

“How do you know my-” I started before cutting myself off. This must be the Superman that those goons were talking about. Here he was in all of his superhero glory. His eyes trailed my face, searching for any injuries. His jaw flexed when he caught sight of the blood and what was surely going to be a bruise.

“Let’s get you out of here.” He said breaking the zip ties as easy as snapping toothpicks. Lifting me up bridal style like I weighed nothing, he hoisted himself up into the air.

:)

“So let me wrap my head around this…you’re Clark AND Superman?” I asked while Clark was cleaning the scratch on my face. The two of us were in a place called the ‘Fortress of Solitude’, a place where Clark claimed he goes to recover after battles. After the fight with the goonies, he said he didn’t want to take me back to my place. If they were able to trace my address, then they knew exactly where I lived.

And I didn’t want to be left alone in my place after everything that’s happened in the last twenty four hours.

“I’m Clark when I’m at the Daily Planet, but Superman when I’m saving Metropolis.” Clark responded, dabbing a wet cloth on the scratch, soaking up the remaining clotted blood. He was in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I watched him as he worked. His eyes looked so focused, so intense. It was a complete contrast to him at the Daily Planet.

“So then…who are you to me? Superman or Clark?” I bit my bottom lip. He pulled away, finished bandaging the wound. But it also looked like he was taken aback.

“To you, I’ve always been me. Not Clark Kent from work, not Superman, just Clark.” I just stared at him, almost unable to believe him.

“So then why tell me now? You could have just taken me to the hospital. Your identity would have been safe. So why reveal it now?’ I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question. After all this time of separating Superman from Clark Kent, why choose now to say something?

A long moment passed between us, so long that I didn’t think he was going to respond at all.

“When you didn’t show up that night, I thought you bailed.” His words were soft, raw. “ But then I knew that you’re not known to just not show up. So I panicked. I was losing my mind trying to find you. I almost lost it when I found out some of Lex Luthor’s henchmen took you.” I felt my heart fall into my stomach. He continued on. “And when I found you tied up and hurt, I knew I couldn’t hide it from you anymore. You needed to know.” He let out a shuttering breath.

That’s when I saw him, the real man behind it all.

Not Superman.

Not Clark Kent.

Just Him.

Quickly unlocking the door into another chamber, I followed him inside. The door shut behind us with a soft thud. Inside was dimly lit with blue lights. A king sized mattress was placed on the back end of the wall, followed by a bookshelf to the right and a chair to the left. I leaned against the door and bit my bottom lip, hesitant to make the first move. All this time I’ve been wishing for Clark to see me more than a friend. And there was for sure something here. So why am I so shy all of a sudden?

Seeing him in the red and blue suit as superman did something to me. All of the feelings I’ve kept inside began to bubble to the surface. I was still reeling over the fact that out of everyone I thought would be Superman I never expected Clark Kent.

His hand gently grabbed my chin, leading my gaze and thoughts back to him. When did he become so close?

“What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me. It’s okay.”

“I just…I just have been wanting this for so long and I didn’t think that you thought of me like that.”

“Kat, isn’t it obvious. I always wanted you.”

“But what about you and Lois? I thought the two of you were…” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Lois and I have never been like that. We’re just really good friends.” He stepped closer, closing the gap between us. I froze, my mind reeling but became silent at the same time. His mouth softly grazed my ear.

“Why do you think I always called for you to fix my computer?”

“Because you don’t understand it.”

“No Kat.” He paused, “It’s so I could see you.” I’ve never felt my face heat up faster in my life.

“Oh!....Oh” He let out a laugh.

“I’m from Kansas, not from Mars. I know the basics of fixing a computer.” His laugh died suddenly. Both of our lips were mere inches away. All either of us had to do was move and our lips would touch. My gaze stayed on his while his eyes moved from my lips to my eyes. There was yearning in them, longing, desperation.

“We shouldn’t do this. You’re hurt. You’ve been through a lot. I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered, his body visibly. straining. Clark was doing everything in his power to restrain himself. Desperately. I couldn’t help but find it hot.

“It’s okay.” I whispered. “You won’t hurt me.” His lips were on mine in an instant. His lips were soft, his kisses softer. He tasted sweet. I could feel him still holding back. But I didn’t care, I was beginning to drown in those soft, delicate kisses.

Just as I was about to drown, he drew back.

I watched him as Clark tugged the fabric over his head. His chest was glistening with sweat from the flight here. My heart was pounding in my chest, a violet rhythm that wished to break through my ribcage and escape.

Mouthwatering. He was utterly mouthwatering.

And I am utterly fucked.

This wasn’t just Clark Kent standing in front of me anymore. He wasn’t the soft spoken, nerdy Clark I met at the Daily Planet. He wasn’t the big, rough Superman either. He was both, but yet none at the same time. This was the human being behind it all.

And I just fell harder.

“Clark.” I whispered.

He stepped closer, his movements slow. Deliberate. Like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. In an instant, our mouths met again. His kisses were primal, wanting, demanding.

“I want you bent over, whimpering,” He groaned in between our kisses. “I want your nails on my back. I want to hear you tell me how good I’m making you feel. I want you to forget every man who tried. I want you to feel like you’re safe with me.” With each confession, his kisses grew more soft, more held back.

His deep almost primal voice cracked-like a part of him was coming through the urge.

“But if you don’t want this.” He pulled away a moment, his eyes locking with mine. “Stop me. I’m not going to force this on you.”

The air between us pulsed with tension. But he never wavered. All I had to say was the word and he would back away.

But I didn’t want that, not when just him telling me how much he needed me was wrecking me. I could feel myself trembling, my inner thighs soaked. It took everything in me to grip the last shred of my composure.

I swallowed hard, nodding once.

“I trust you.” I whispered.

And Clark, ever the gentleman, ever the hero, let out a sound so low and primal that I felt my entire body shiver.

His mouth was on mind again. These weren’t soft, sweet kisses like before. They were wanting, hungry. He was like a starving man who had just found a buffet. And he was intending to eat.

He cupped my cheeks, deepening our kiss. My head felt light, either from how good it felt for him to kiss me or because of lack of oxygen I didn’t care. All I wanted at that moment was him.

When neither of us could breathe anymore, we broke the kiss. I took it as an opportunity to meet him halfway. Gripping my shirt I yanked it over my head, not wasting a second to discard it on the ground. Clark froze, his breathing hitched and his eyes wide. Completely awestruck.

“Kat…You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. Then closed the distance again but before he reached me he stopped, dropping to his knees. He looked up at me, his eyes never leaving mine as he slowly dragged my pants, then underwear, down to my feet.

I’ve never wanted him to touch me more than I wanted him to now.

“Ladies first” he said, his lips grazing the inside of my thigh. Soon after he kissed up my thigh over and over, little gasps and moans escaping his lips. He was giving me another chance to back out.

But I was too far in to back out now.

My hands grabbed his hair, my fingers tangling with his dark locks. My breath caught in my throat, each kiss sending signals to my middle. “Clark-please.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he dove in, his tongue met my pussy. I felt him moan into me, like I was the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He started incredibly slow, at first long, broad strokes over my entrance before he made his way up to my clit. Each pass he let out a groan, like a starving man being fed.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “You taste so sweet. So good.” My legs trembled from his response.

His mouth closed around my clit and sucked. I saw stars as he sucked, licked, devoured. The only thing I knew was that he was divine and that I wasn’t going to last much longer. He pressed in further, deeper, messier, louder.

A cry escaped my lips, my legs barely holding me up with how much they shook. Clark wrapped one of his arms around my thigh, holding me in place and stabilizing me. He groaned into my clit, sending pleasure towards my approaching orgasm.

“Come for me.” He gasped in between licks. “Come.”

I cried out as my whole body jerked, each one of my muscles clenching to the pleasure. My hands gripped his curls, my world dissolving to the pleasure. His name released my lips as a moan, a soft chant and cry. My legs collapsed, but Clark made sure I didn’t fall.

He released his grip on my clit and looked back up at me. His eyes were wild, desperate, like he wasn’t finished with me yet. He surged to his feet.

He grabbed me by my waist, hoisting me in the air like I was weightless, and carried me to the bed. I was still reeling from my orgasm that I didn’t register us moving until my back hit the mattress. I gasped, my thighs spreading out, my back arching. My eyes moved to him in front of me. He worked on his sweats, pulling them off and then-Oh God.

A whimper escaped my lips.

He was huge. It stared at me, flushed, thick, veined, and leaking. It look so fucking hard that it looked painful.

“Birth control?” His voice was hoarse at the question.

I nodded, breathless.

His eyes darkened before meeting me the rest of the way. Gingerly, he pushed my legs open with almost trembling hands. Lining himself up with my soaked entrance, he paused.

One last chance to back out.

He looked down at me as he stood over me, waiting for the silent confirmation before his eyes softened. “I’ll go slow.”

“I don’t want slow.” I said in a soft whisper, “I want you ruined. I want you rough. I’ve always wanted you”. That was all the confirmation he needed.

He slammed in.

I screamed, Clark matching mine with a moan so deep, so wrecked, I felt it go straight to my core.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, loosing his composure, “You’re-fuck, you’re so wet-so tight. You’re perfect.” He pulled out and thrust back in hard. Deep. I could feel him hit my cervix. I felt tears fall down my face at the pleasure. I was already overstimulated, but I couldn’t stop wanting, begging for him. I could feel myself around him, needing him to keep going. Clark braced over me, driving in.

Again.

Again.

Again.

His hips kept snapping, every thrust more brutal. More perfect.

I clutched his broad back, my nails raking down, digging into him, as he pounded into me. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harder,” I begged, tears continuing down my face. “Harder, please-need it” Clark responded, hips snapping faster, his whole body jerking with the effort. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good.” As he kept thrusting, he reached in between us, rubbing my clit. I felt the pleasure, built to the point where I thought I was going to explode. I think he saw it in my eyes.

“You gonna come again? He panted. “Come with me baby. Meet me over the edge.” I nodded frantically.

Then it hit.

The pleasure exploded, the pleasure releasing in big waves. Both of us felt it. I could still feel him deep inside me, his cock pulsing inside my clenched pussy. He let out a loud moan.

“Fuck-I’m gonna”

“Do it.” I gasped. He groaned as hot, deep, almost endless heat grew in my insides. His hip twitching, body shaking, gasping my name before he collapsed over me. We both layed there in a haze of sweat, come, and ruin. Our bodies were tangled, hearts racing.

It was the best feeling I’ve had in my entire life.

He pulled himself out, rolling over me and collapsed next to me, his breath still ragged and panting. He looked gloriously ruined, his brown locks damp with sweat. His breaths brushed against my neck in soft, contented huffs. One of his arms was around my waist. I couldn’t help but have my hand against his chest, making sure that what just happened was real.

The room smelled like sex, sweat, and victory.

I had hopefully survived the last abduction of my life.

And Clark was mine. And I was his.

“So how are we going to tell Lois?” I asked sleepily, turning my body so I was facing him.

“About Superman? Or us?”

“Yes.” Clark let out a chuckle, tracing small circles on my hands.

“Someday she’ll catch on that I’m Superman. But as for us.” He paused, locking eyes with me. “I think it’s best we let her know before she investigates us like she does Superman.” I let out a laugh.

“221 Baker’s Street.  You didn’t mention that it would be on the second floor Sherlock”  I huffed to myself as I made my way up the stairs.  The night before Sherlock had briefly explained that I had to meet him at a specific location tomorrow.  He said he would give me all the information I needed.  When asked why he couldn’t mention it here, he mentioned he wanted to be safe before revealing crucial details about a case. 

So here I am, trudging up the stairs.  

And I hate every second of it.

But I push through my heavy breathing until I make it to the final step.  It wasn’t until I could breathe evenly that I knocked on the door.

A heavy pause lingered in the air before the door creaked open.

“You’re late.”  A gruff voice sliced the air.  Sherlock stood right in front of me, one hand on the door, the other holding a pipe.  

“Sorry.  I had a hard time finding this place.”  He stepped aside, leaving a glimpse of inside his flat.  A silent invitation.  “You never mentioned that this place was on the second floor.  Those stairs were brutal.”

“One should always have steps, to avoid people stepping on you.”  Sherlock merely stated, his eyes tracking my movements as I passed the threshold into his place.

“Umm…I’m not sure I entirely follow.  But I’m pretty sure-”  I stopped suddenly as my brain caught up with what was happening around me.  The hairs on my neck stood up as I felt my breath catch in my throat.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Everything, even parts of the floor was consumed by documents of varying sizes.  Some were folded, some were ripped.  There were even some with tea stains.  Not one seat, save for one in the middle of the flat, wasn’t covered by some degree.

How can someone live, let alone work, in a place like this?

One of my main pet peeves is cleanliness.  It’s been instilled in me ever since I was able to move.  My mother always said that a clean house is a clear mind.  I tried my best to make my home as clean and decluttered as I could; even when I was at the small cottage.

But to see someone as put together on the outside live in such a state, especially someone like Sherlock Holmes,   says something about their mind…

I bit my bottom lip and drew my attention away from the mess and towards the smoke trailing behind Sherlock.  It took everything in my power to distract myself

“So…what is it that you need me to do exactly?”

Sherlock had traveled to the other side of the flat, completely avoiding the papers.  He puffed on his pipe, his face strained in thought. 

“There is a performance at The Reform tonight.  It appears to be a central location that the suspect likes to visit.  His latest victim had been a showgirl.  I need you to go in and see if you can retrieve any belongings of the two victims.”  My eyebrows creased together in question.

“Pardon?  Two questions.  You mentioned ‘latest victim’.  There’s more than one victim.  Why has it not been mentioned in the newspapers?  Two, if I go in, how do we know that their belongings are still there?  They could be gone by now.”  

“Due to the budget of the showroom and the amount of performers it takes to run a show, the items won’t be touched.  The show requires six performers to perform without any hindrance.  So far the show has five currently.  It will not run unless they have the right number of people to perform all of the acts.  The police haven’t connected the string of murders to one suspect yet.  They believe that there is no connection and no motive between the two.”  So there has been another murder, but it hasn’t been revealed to the public.  Why?  

It doesn’t make sense.  There was only one mention of a death that had claimed to be murder, at least from what I can recall.  The only other thing that has been repeatedly mentioned is about a new entertainment business coming to London.  It had been on the front page three consecutive times.  But the murders and the entertainment show can’t be connected, can they? 

“Olivia, have I lost you?”  Sherlock’s voice grew in my ears like thunder in a growing storm, shocking me out of my thoughts.

“NO!….no.”  I jerked my gaze to meet his.  My eyes trailed back to the ground and focused on each paper.  It took most of my attention to avoid stepping on any of the documents on the ground.  “Please continue.”  Sherlock stared at me momentarily, taking a puff of his pipe before continuing.

“I’ll need you to pose as one of the new dancers hired for the show.  You will be given access to their belongings.  Look for any personal belongings related to the victim, acquire them, and exit before the show begins.  Do you have any questions?”

“One question actually, um…if there are five performers and I’m posing as the sixth one, what is stopping the showrunner from putting me in the actual performance?”  I felt a slight quiver in my voice when the question left my lips.  My nerves felt like they were beginning to light on fire, and my breathing quickened with each passing thought of having to go on a stage.  

“Because there is a sixth performer.  You are to get in and leave before they arrive. Try not to run into them before you get what you need.”

“Oh…ok, great.”  I swallowed hard, feeling my anxiety growing.  How am I supposed to know what I’m supposed to grab?  I don’t know anything about the victim.  What if I take the wrong item?  What if I can’t even make it inside?  Even if I make it inside, there’s no guarantee that I won’t get caught.  If I did then everything would be for naught.  I’d end up in jail with no money to get bailed out.  I would let the victims’ families down, and let the murderer have another chance to strike.  Worst of all, I’d have the greatest detective in the world disappointed in me and regret ever allowing me to work with him.  

Keep it together Olivia.

“You look troubled.  What is it?”  His words sounded far away with the ringing in my ears.  I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure.

“It’s nothing.  It’s not pertaining to the case.”  My voice felt out of place like it wasn’t me talking.  I felt like I wasn’t in my own body. I didn’t want Sherlock to know my doubts about this task.  We weren’t as close as I would like to be.  And the last thing I want is to show Sherlock how much of a mess I am inside.  He’d label me as just another person possessed by their own emotions.

I mean I sort of am but I didn’t want to divulge that with him.  It would just add to the list of things he’d be disappointed in.

Stop it

“I don’t want this to affect you when you are out there.  So please get it off your chest.”  There was a slight tilt to his head, his gaze analyzing me.  I could feel him already concluding that I was not cut out for something like this.

“It’s just…”  I trailed off.  How could I tell him that what I was about to do was crazy?  Everything I said when I was back at Edith’s place was completely spur of the moment.  At the time I genuinely thought that I would be able to pull something like this off.  Having it mere hours away from happening felt like I had been dowsed in ice water.

“Olivia.”  Just one word, my name, stilled my thoughts and pulled my attention to Sherlock.  His face had less of an edge to it like his demeanor had shifted and began to morph into something else.  I don’t know what it was but he almost appeared gentle and patient.  It was a complete contrast to what I saw several moments ago.  This was not the same Sherlock that had asked for help a fortnight ago.

This made it almost harder to speak.

“Okay, okay It’s just….” I bit my bottom lip, “why is your place so messy?”  I blurted out, completely changing the topic.  Maybe if I talk about something else I won’t have to show my doubts.

“It’s not messy.  Everything is where it needs to be.”  Sherlock appeared slightly taken aback by my sudden question.

“Right…that’s not what I’m seeing here.  It looks like you’ve just thrown around-”

“You’re changing the topic, Olivia.”  Shit…he knew what I was doing.  I guess I don’t have a choice…

“Okay fine.  I’m just worried about tonight, that’s all.”  A long sigh escaped my lips, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t look like showgirl material.  I mean LOOK at me.”  I stretched out my arms showcasing all the bumps, dips, and curves of my body.  “There’s no way I would pass as one, let alone be able to get through the door.  People like me are the ones who listen to the music and the cheering outside the building.  I don’t want to let the victim's family down, or especially you.”  A heavy presence filled the air, choking the silence.  Sherlock just stared at me.  I don’t know if it was out of shock or if he was reconsidering his decision to bring me into this.  

I don’t care anymore.  I let my insecurity out and hung it up to dry for him to see.  

All he has to do is say the words and I’ll be on my way back to my little damp cottage.

“You know Olivia…”  Sherlock cleared his throat, saying, “It’s normal to feel anxious about an uncertain situation.”  He paused, taking a moment to place his pipe on a nearby table.  “I’m going to give you a piece of advice.  Out there, feelings and being emotional poses a risk.  It is understandable for you, given the danger you may face.  However if you feel like this is too difficult for you, then I won’t force you to do this.  I can find other routes to get what I acquire.  All you have to do is say the word.”

He’s giving me a choice. 

He knows that the situation can be dangerous.  He knows that I’m feeling overwhelmed, but isn’t forcing me to commit.  There’s still a chance to back out, and yet he’s still giving me the option, however much that hurts him.  And if I don’t do this, it’s another chance to be another victim.

I can’t let myself back out.  

“No,”  I paused, collecting myself.    “No, I can do this.  I won’t let my emotions get in the way.”  A pleased look crossed his face, a small smirk threatening to reveal itself.

“Good.  I’ll see you tonight.”

A/N: Thank you to the following people who wanted to see this part happen. Stay tuned for part 3!!

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