#ukthxbye

“Bigger?” 

 Greg shrugged, considering taking the jacket off of his dark grey wool suit. “Yeah… drugs maybe? Hey, the performer I talked to said they chat about having a boyfriend in some sort of criminal organisation.” 

 “Hmm” is all Sherlock said with a sniff and returned to the mobile. 

 “You know something then?”

 “Yes, your information is… well… but I’ll let you suss it all out. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

 Greg shook his head but turned to see their informant approaching. He’d met the person out of drag, but Greg’s jaw dropped a little at the vision before him. Very fishy as the drag queens say, Greg mused as the informant slinked over in a red sequin gown. 

 She leaned against the bar, and Greg mirrored her.

 “Hey darling, not sure if you remember—”

 “Yeah… DI, after all, got to remember faces, even in disguise,” Greg said, flashing his boyish grin. “What do I call you tonight?”

 “Anything you like if you keep smiling like that,” she grinned back with a wink. 

 Greg snickered, “So when does the show start?”

 “Baby, the only show you need is right here,” the queen said. “Ms Shantala is a star just standing. You should see me dance.”

 “Do I get that pleasure tonight?”

 She bit her lip, tapping his arm lightly as she raised an eyebrow.  “Later darling… or even later later if you like a different sort of—”

 But another queen who rushed up whispering in Ms Shantala’s ear and with a quick nod she hurried off, blowing him a quick kiss.

 Greg watched her walk away intently. Sherlock shot him a look and Greg shot one back chin raised.  “What? I ain’t got a date for Christmas. You never know...”

 “Hmm,” Sherlock murmured as she took off his scarf and placed it in his coat pocket, and glanced and raised an eyebrow at Greg.

 A disinterested Sherlock wasn’t unusual, but tonight it irritated Greg.

 “You got a date for Christmas so you can insult me?” Greg smirked.

 Sherlock’s eyes widened and narrowed as he swallowed hard.  Greg spied it and frowned.

 “Of course I do not… anyway irrelevant… can we be seated for the show ?”

 Sherlock pushed past him to avoid a group headed to the bar. 

 He contemplated the change in his friend but stored it away for later and put his thought to the task ahead. 

 Greg settled into his seat, and Sherlock beside him just in time for the stage lights dimmed out as the crowd cheered and clapped.

 A small curtain opened as the song began, the tinkling notes of a familiar song. “Mariah Carey then” Greg murmured.

 The spot landed on a figure on stage dressed in a red fur trimmed hooded floor length coat with their back to the hushed audience. They turned, but their face except for cherry red lips obscured as they moved their hand to their hood.  On the lyric of “you”, they looked right at Sherlock and pointed. The piano and music came in and they lifted the hood.

 Greg gasped and coughed.

 Molly Hooper, dancing and lip syncing, right before them.  Heavy makeup with smokey eyes and false eyelashes, but no denying it's her as she shimmied across the stage. Greg hardly noticed the two drag queens, including Ms Shantala, also spotlighted as the backup singers. Or the two shirtless male dancers, one dressed as an elf and the other as a reindeer.His stare locked on Molly dancing as she opened up the jacket revealing a body suit of red velvet with fur trim and a very low cut. 

 Greg’s elbow connected with Sherlock’s ribs but no response made him slap his arm until Sherlock slapped back.

 Sherlock gritted out, “Why are you hitting me?”

 “Sherlock. It’s Molly” Greg mouthed with exaggeration and pointed. 

 Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can see that clearly.”

 Greg glanced back at her, as she dropped the coat down to just the bodysuit which the low cut matched in the back as she twirled around and she danced to the other side of the stage for a setup with a prop with a fake fireplace one of the mail dancers wheeled on. The reindeer one wheeled a Christmas tree on the other side. Shock washed over Greg on multiple levels as she slid down the side of one dancer and back up seductively as they lifted her up under her arms.

 Greg turned to Sherlock, not sure if he should even stare at Molly dressed like that, dancing like that, and Greg’s blood boiled immediately. Sherlock’s eyes on his mobile and typing. 

 He reached across with two hands on Sherlock’s mobile. They tugged, staring at the other silently. Greg struggled, but he whispered, “Look!’ and gripped hard, yanking away the device by the time Molly danced back around to in front of them. They both glanced at her, Greg shooting her a quick smile as she looked his way. But he stared back at his friend.

 Sherlock bared his teeth at him.  

 Greg whispered, risking leaning in.  “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

 “Sure, Graham,” Sherlock mocked.

 “Fucking hell, I swear to God—“

 “You can glare all you want,” Sherlock huffed.

Greg looked back as the two dancers dropped fake snow on top of her.

 “I’m throttling you after the song.” Greg demonstrated it with his hand as he whispered it loudly. 

 “O-kay” Sherlock smirked and rolled his eyes. 

 “Jesus Christ...Sherlock. ” 

 “What?”

 Defeat washed over Greg as he leaned in so Sherlock could hear him. “God dammit man, she’s singing it to you, you fucking twat.”

 Sherlock frowned deep. “Its lip-sync not singing you can clearly see by her breath she’s—”

“That’s it. Oh, no… mmm no ok I’m kicking your ass after this” Greg folded his arm and then unfolded them. 

 ‘Wasn’t there a case you were supposed to do something?" Sherlock huffed. 

 “Well, this is more important now.”

 “Is it?”

 “Yes, pay... attention.” Greg pointed at the stage, holding Sherlock’s stare.

 “If I do... will you give me my mobile back?”

 The last line of the song approached. “ Make my wish come true”  and Greg sucked in a hard breath. “I’m gonna kill you. “

 “Fine!”

 As the last “ You ” note started, Sherlock leapt up on stage and kissed her at the high note, holding her tight to him. 

 Crowd whooped and hollered and Greg sat stiff still with his jaw nearly on the floor. 

 Greg’s, and Sherlock’s mobile buzzed. Text from John about the criminal being in custody. Greg cocked his head to the side in thought, trying to piece it all together. 

 When he looked up at the stage, he saw the reason the crowd cheered again. Molly jumped up and wrapped her legs around as Sherlock placed his hands under her bum for support. Greg’s smile crept in despite the confusion and he clapped, forgetting the mobiles in his hand and nearly dropping them before shoving them in his pocket.

 Ms Shantala cackled into the mic,  “Yaaasss gurl yaasss! Climb him like a tree! We love love! Merry Christmas indeed, Sherlock Holmes!”

 Greg stared at the couple now still clinging to each other but chatting with Ms Shantala as they exited the stage with a bow to much uproar and whistling from the crowd.

 He smugly strode around the crowd to find Sherlock helping Molly put the coat back on. 

 Greg chuckled as he folded his arms “So—”

 “We’ve been dating 6 months.” Sherlock smirked.

 Once more thrown off. “What?” He glanced back and forth between Sherlock and Molly.

 Molly bit her bottom lip and grinned, “It’s true. It was all part of the setup.”

 Greg huffed. “Well, I was certainly distracted but not so sure about the suspect—”

 “It’s really simple, George—”

 “Greg,” Molly said, smacking Sherlock in the chest with her free hand.

 Sherlock smirked at her, and then back at Greg. “Gregory, the suspect knew you were here, but he thought you would have arrested him. Us watching the show so intently, he saw your preoccupation and assumed he could leave unencumbered. He did not however bet on me, or John or Scotland Yard you placed outside.”

 Greg rubbed his forehead and down his face, smiling wearily. “You could have just told me... any of it… all of it. I mean, congrats. God, I’m chuffed but… helluva way to find out. Next time just tell me.”

 Sherlock glanced down at Molly, and they shared a mischievous smirk together. 

As I sat in the movie theater, from the very first line of the song, and the first strains of it’s lovely melody, I felt it was exactly Teyla’s song–for I was in the midst of writing the latest chapter, in which her slow-burn romance with Stephen Strange is finally (and beautifully, if I don’t say so myself) consummated.

D.  Any drawings or pictures that had a big influence on your writing?

Probably half of my works have been inspired by either pictures (in character or not) or drawings of My Muse (and Beautiful Obsession)! And there remain a good share of ideas that I haven’t yet had the time to flesh out and bring to life.  Most notably there was a photo of Benedict Cumberbatch from the publicity run up to Star Trek: Into Darkness; posed with a classic car on an arid California roadside, dressed in a spotless white tee & black leather pants, with his Khan-darkened hair *pauses to fan self*–he became John Harrison on the run from Admiral Marcus’s henchmen, pre the events of the movie, in A Khan By Any Other Name.

I also started a fic (In the Eye of the Beholder) about the youth of Richard Plantagenet based on a still from The Hollow Crown series. Benedict’s Richard looking darkly handsome, dangerous, sultry, in blue velvet–-a dark, magnificent prince with a cankerous heart; a villain so skillfully imbued with enough of a painful backstory (oh how his mother so cruelly rejected him!) by the Actor, that this author just had to plumb the depths of his childhood & teen years to discover why he turned out so duplicitious and power hungry (spoiler: there was a teen love affair that also broke his heart, thanks to his mother’s interference).

A Time and Place for Misbehavior was sparked by photos & footage of Benedict’s tipsy acceptance speech at the 2014 British GQ Men of the Year awards dinner, while Whiskey Kisses was inspired by his performance of ‘Sonnet 155′ in May 2010. And pictures of the dashing Major Jamie Stewart from War Horse were the seeds for The Secret of Salvation. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture–BC truly is the Muse for most of my works!

F.  What stories are you planning for the future?  

So many, many, many ideas, and too, too, too little time! I’ve got a good dozen draft documents with initial paragraphs & notes just waiting to be dusted off and brought to life-–but I’ve also got a bunch of long-running WIPs that need attention first. A couple of my favorite ideas are Sherlock related; a fic that will explore how Sherlock came to play the violin (an idea conceived well before S4 and the reveal of Eurus), which will also feature teenaged Mycroft and a youthful sibling rivalry (mostly on M’s part); and a character study of what is going on in all the minds of Sherlock’s family & friends while they wait to see if he survives his gunshot wound in His Last Vow, which will prominently feature Mycroft & Molly.

H.  How do you write? Paper, pen, computer? Music, no music?

Currently, I work either on my tablet or small laptop, but I also keep a notebook & pen on my nightstand for those times I wake up with a plot detail or perfect bit of dialogue.  I’m so used to writing with the television playing as white noise in the background, I know it would be hard to adapt to silence–and as my work area doesn’t have easy access to play music (and I don’t have a smart phone or an I-pod) I don’t know if music would actually serve my best interests…although I’ve will play songs repeatedly on my headphones should they fit the piece I’m working on, and I have access to public wifi. 

I guess that will do it for today; hope I didn’t put anyone to sleep! And thank you most kindly if you read this entire post through–you are a trooper (or at least a gluttoin for punishment, but that is not the deadliest sin, n’est-ce pas?)