After mingling a bit more with the odd few people in the crowd, Elizabeth excused herself so she could find the bathroom. Past it, there would be a staircase that only staff at the mansion used and would be their unsuspecting way up to the second floor of the building where Mr Armistead's office would be. She lingered by the stairs, waiting for Sherlock join her.

He appeared moments later, "Go on, go. Right behind you."

They hurried up the two flights of stairs and opened the door that led out into the corridor of the second floor. No lights were on which only made the hallway more eerie.

"Private security will be making their rounds. We have approximately...five minutes to find his study before an officer comes back this way."

"Okay, you check the doors on the left, I'll do right."

"Got it."

And down the corridor they snuck, checking all the handles on the way. They walked into bedrooms and cupboards and other odd rooms alike. In the middle, left side of the hallway was a double doorway. When Elizabeth checked the handles, the doors didn't open. They were locked.

"Sherlock. I think it's this one. Unsurprisingly locked."

"Can you get in?"

"Really? How do you think I got into Mycroft's office?"

"Right."

She opened her purse, pulling out a small lock picking kit and crouched in front of the keyhole. Elizabeth got to work on opening the door.

"How many times have you done this?"

"Too many to count. Now shush. I need to - oh no."

"Oh no what?"

Elizabeth looked up at Sherlock, "The pick broke."

"What?"

"The pick, the lock pick broke. It snapped. In the door. Do you have a card or a pin or anything?"

There was a shine of light from around the corner down the hallway.

"Oh, not good. Not good. Sherlock, get away from the door." Elizabeth muttered, putting her mini kit back in her purse as fast as she could be for standing up and hurrying over to Sherlock.

The light was getting bigger and brighter. Any moment the officer would turn the corner. She had to think quick. They could go into a room but then it would be noticeable that they were hiding. Plain sight though. They could do that. That would work.

"I need you not to freak out about what I'm about to do." She said urgently.

Sherlock frowned, "Wh - ?!"

Before he could reply, Elizabeth had pushed Sherlock against the wall, pressing her lips against the detective's.

Her one hand rested on his chest while the other travelled to the back of his head. The bristles of his fake moustache irked her but somehow she didn't mind at the same time. Had she intended this to happen? Not at all. Had she wished it to happen? Possibly. Did she, if she ever thought this would happen, expect it to happen like this? God, no.

But happen, it did.

Sherlock was in shock. Never had he expected this. Perhaps he too had wanted this but he didn't think it would happen. And for some reason, he really didn't expect Elizabeth to be the one to initiate it. His hands rested on her hips and for a moment he didn't kiss back.

But then he did.

He found her lips addictively soft. Was that even possible? He could taste a bitter hint of her lipstick in his mouth but he wasn't too bothered by it. Their kiss was passionate, almost soul-sucking but full of lust yet he knew it was part of an act. It was all part of an act. His desire for her was an act. Her desire for him was an act.

At least that's what they told themselves.

The sound of quickening footsteps and and the reddish glow they saw through their eyelids, told them their fiery moment wouldn't last much longer.

"Hey! What are you two doing up here?"

Elizabeth pulled out of the kiss, not for a second meeting with Sherlock's eyes and instead looking over to the security guard. She gave a nervous chuckle.

"I'm so sorry, we needed a...quiet moment alone." She said this in a hush, breathless tone but loud enough for the guard to hear.

He lowered his torchlight to the floor, "You two really shouldn't be up here."

Sherlock noted the hint of embarrassment in the guard's tone. The man clearly hadn't expected this to happen on his job. But Sherlock didn't speak - he was too shook by the sudden kiss to articulate his thoughts verbally.

"Listen, we just need a moment alone." She paused, "We'll make it worth your while."

"How?"

"How much do you want?" Elizabeth asked him, stepping away from Sherlock now and facing the guard who was stood about two meters away, "Unless, you want something else?"

She stepped slowly towards the man, swaying her lips alluringly as she went. It was a shame (for the guard) that he was stood next to the hallway table that held a candlestick and two vases to choose from as weapons. But sometimes these things had to be done.

"I - uh - what would you suggest?" He stammered, thrown off-guard by her change in attention.

Sherlock still watched, bewildered.

Elizabeth stood right in front of the guard now, her fingers crawling up his chest, "Perhaps...a goodnight's sleep?"

She smiled, bringing the vase she had picked up in her other hand across the side of his head like lightning.

The guard dropped like a dead weight, as did the broken pieces of the vase.

The final piece of the vase she held, looked at, and then chucked it down on the floor by the unconscious man.

"Pity. Nice claywork." She crouched down, grabbing the guard's tie pin, "But thank God you came along."

Sherlock was still leant against the wall, still unresponsive, with smeared red lipstick across his lips.

Elizabeth wasted no time in getting the door to the study unlocked though. Only then did she turn back to the chaos she had left behind her. The thief partly didn't want to acknowledge the series of events but seeing Sherlock made her sigh.

She walked back and stood before the guard, but looked at Sherlock, "I need your help to move him into into a bedroom and to clear up the broken vase...Sherlock?"

He didn't move.

"Sherlock seriously, we don't have time."

The detective blinked at the thief.

"Don't let it bother you, it meant nothing." Elizabeth said this monotonously, no expression on her face whatsoever.

That was the line that elicited a reaction from the detective though. He frowned. His brain processed her words. Nothing? It hadn't felt like nothing. But no. It was good that it meant nothing. Nothing was good. It was great. Absolutely fantastic. The less feelings, the better one would function.

So why didn't it sit right with him?

He stood up straight again and approached the body of the guard, Elizabeth taking one arm and he the other. Together they dragged him into one of the open bedrooms and left him there. Without a word, Elizabeth rushed out and into the study. Sherlock followed, still dazed but picked up the pieces of the vase before he joined her.

Sherlock shut the study door silently and hovered there. He watched Elizabeth look through the drawers of Charles's desk.

She shut the last drawer and then stopped.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then can you please help me?"

He nodded, approaching her by the desk as she took a seat and switched on Charles's computer.

The atmosphere was tense.

Elizabeth hadn't intended it to be like this but, then again, she had thought that she had given Sherlock fair warning. Perhaps it wasn't enough? And saying it meant nothing? It was harsh. She knew it. But Mycroft's words had gotten to her. And honestly, the kiss didn't mean what she would have wanted it to mean if she knew she was going to do that. It was rushed. It was - nice. But it was an impulsive action committed to out of panic.

When the computer finally loaded, Elizabeth sighed at seeing the box asking for a pin. It never would be that easy would it? Hacking it would have to be.

"Can you get in?" Sherlock asked, peering over her shoulder.

"I can," She paused, acknowledging his presence being close to her, "But I can't do it with you breathing down my neck."

Sherlock stood up straight again, "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Oh, I don't know, you're a detective - go - detect." She shrugged.

"Helpful."

"Shut up." She rolled her eyes, "You know what we're looking for."

Sherlock was a little taken aback by her passive aggressiveness. They had a nice moment before - with the dancing, he meant. Although the kiss was nice too. And she was the one who kissed him after all? And he didn't think he freaked out? Unless he did? Maybe it was stress. She was probably stressed. He knew Mycroft had said something to her in the car. Perhaps whatever he said was getting to her?

Sherlock searched a filing cabinet on the far side of the room and found a folder that had some bank details within it from a bank account in Dubai. He placed the file on the table and snapped some photos of it before placing it back in the cabinet and continued to search for more evidence.

Elizabeth finally managed to get into Armistead's computer. When she did, she opened her purse to retrieve a USB stick. The thief would copy any useful information onto it. The job didn't seem to be too bad - minus the minor distractions. And she was still completing the job quickly. But she couldn't help but think that the situation would be less messier if she had just gone alone.

Elizabeth didn't blame Sherlock but her actions certainly complicated the situation.

Why did she kiss him?

When she had downloaded the evidence she needed, she hurriedly shut down the computer again.

"C'mon. Let's go." Elizabeth said, being sure to replace everything as she had found it, "We'll find Mycroft and hopefully then we can leave."

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"I..." Sherlock paused, then shook his head, "Never mind. We should go."

Elizabeth watched the detective for a moment before nodding and leaving the room. He followed after.

Sherlock would have brought up the kiss again but against better judgement, he decided not to. Perhaps they could talk about it some other time? Perhaps they wouldn't speak of it at all? Only time would tell what they would do about it.

They headed downstairs using the service staircase again. Elizabeth went back out into the party first, leaving Sherlock to follow a few minutes later so as to not draw any suspicion.

They found Mycroft by the buffet table.

"Ah Verity, Tony, enjoying the party, are we?"

"Yes. It's been lovely but I'm actually quite tired now. I was hoping we could head home." Elizabeth smiled falsely at Mycroft.

Understanding what she implied, he nodded, "If we must, we must." Mycroft looked to his brother and noticed the hint of red lipstick on his lips, "Uh, Tony, it appears you've spilt some red wine."

Mycroft gestured with his hand across his lips before giving a sharp glare to Elizabeth. She rolled her eyes. It wasn't what he thought. They just got caught up with a guard and they had provided a distraction to take him out - that was the Gospel truth. Sherlock was quick to wipe his hand over his mouth before he nodded.

"Please. We should head home." Sherlock said, part of him ashamed of himself.

But they had done nothing wrong? It was a kiss. Used as a distraction. A fake kiss. A fake, divine kiss. One he wished for more of.

The three headed back out into the foyer however Elizabeth got separated from the two brothers in the crowd. Just as she was about to push forwards again, she felt a hand grab her arm.

"Verity!" Charles pulled her next to him, "Mind if I talk to you alone? Where's Tony?"

"Oh, we were - just coming to find you to bid you adieu. Mycroft and Tony are in the foyer already." She chuckled, "I'm quite tired, you see."

"Oh no!" Charles frowned understandably, "Well, if you must go, I can't stop you but just quickly, can I talk to you alone?"

"I - uh - I don't see why not." Elizabeth smiled tightly, allowing herself to be dragged away.

Their aim was to not cause any suspicion after all.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Mycroft and Sherlock waited in the foyer for Elizabeth but when she didn't arrive, Sherlock became worried whereas Mycroft became suspicious. The detective even went to stand at the edge of the room they had just left, peering over the heads of the others to see if he could spot her and he did. Just a glimpse. She was being led away by Charles. His brow furrowed.

"Any idea why Mr Armistead is leading my 'wife' away?" Sherlock looked to Mycroft.

His brother shrugged, just as perplexed as he, "Armistead's not married if that's what you're wondering."

This didn't sit well with Sherlock at all and so he made an effort to follow after them through the crowd, as fast as humanely possible.

*  *  *  *  *  *

It didn't sit well with Elizabeth either. Especially seeing as she had been led into Charles's bedroom on the first floor. Her gut told her something bad was going to happen.

Mr Armistead shut the door behind him and locked it. Her brow raised when he did this.

"If you're thinking I'll cheat on my husband, then you're very wrong Mr Armistead." She warned.

Charles shook his head, his strong act faltering, hands shaking, "Why is Mycroft here tonight?"

"To celebrate your fortieth birthday."

"No. No. I don't think he is. Mycroft Holmes doesn't do parties. So why is he here?"

"Why would I know? I was merely invited, Mr Armistead."

Elizabeth's gut twisted. She was uncomfortable and his sudden change in demeanor made her feel as though he were unpredictable.

"You must know. You must. Mycroft doesn't have friends either, let alone acquaintances that he would invite with him anywhere. Are you even who you say you are, Verity? If that's your real name?"

She was dealing with someone who had mega paranoia and she could really see that now. What had given them away? Perhaps it was Mycroft's fault. Charles didn't seem to believe their cover story.

"I don't understand why you're worried Mr Armistead. Please, calm down."

"I can't keep calm when I have a security guard missing." He hissed, "Everything was fine before you all showed up. None of the guards missed a check-in."

Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat. Mycroft had given them the plans of the house, told them how many guards there were, had said there were no cameras because Armistead said they were too easy to hack. How didn't she know about their check-ins? If Mycroft knew the rest, how come he didn't mention that the guards had check-ins?

Charles ran his hands through his hair as he paced the floor, "I knew I shouldn't have gone along with it. I told them it easy dangerous. I told them. And yet they still had me do it."

"Mr Armistead, please, calm down. Talk to me. What did you do?"

He ignored her question, "You disappeared earlier - where did you go?"

"I - I just went to the bathroom. Even ask the other guests. They were the ones who told me where it was."

"I don't believe you. It was around the same time the guard missed his check in. You're lying."

"I'm not!"

"You are though, aren't you?" He approached her within two large, panicked steps as yelled, "You're lying!"

Elizabeth backed away instinctively, "Mr Armistead, you're frightening me."

"What's in your purse?"

"Just my - my make-up and my phone. That's all. I swear."

They just had to go and target a paranoiac, didn't they? Where were Sherlock and Mycroft? Surely they'd notice she was gone by now?

"Give me. Your purse."

"N - no. It's my property."

"If you have nothing to hide, give it to me." Charles held out his hand expectantly.

Wide-eyed she stared back at him. Elizabeth gulped, not wanting to hand it over in the fear that he may become more physical when he found the lock pick kit and USB stick. But if she didn't hand it over he would know she was hiding something and he may become just as dangerous. It was a lose-lose situation.

Taking a chance, she shoved him out of the way and made a bee-line for the door. She unlocked it urgently and had just managed to open the door by a small crack when Mr Armistead wrapped his arms around her, forcefully pulling her back into the room.

Elizabeth screamed, as she struggled in Charles's arms.

But the man covered her mouth and nose with his hand, depriving her of much-needed air. Her own hands desperately clawed at his, in the hopes of prying his hand away so that she could breathe.

Elizabeth's lungs began to burn for oxygen, black spots invading her sight.

"Let go of her now!"