8 - Fickle

A/N: Minor warning, again, literally just one/two bits of profanity but other than that, all is fine.

Hope you enjoy! 😄

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The next evening, the three of them got ready for the party. Mycroft met them at the flat after John had updated him on what was happening (Sherlock had said that he was 'too busy' to converse with Mycroft).

Elizabeth was getting ready in Sherlock's room and was taking an awfully long time in his mind. John was already kitted out with the gear that Mycroft had given them, such as a minute mic to listen in on the conversations that they would have, and had his mask in hand, ready for when he would need it at the party. Sherlock was pretty much ready bar the absence of his bow tie.

The detective wandered over to his room to check on Elizabeth. He knocked on the door gently.

"Yes?"

"Are you almost finished?"

"Almost, just putting on the last touches."

Sherlock nodded to himself as he started to tie his bow tie around his neck. He considered going back to John and Mycroft but then another question popped into his head. He asked, facing away from the door, but loud enough for her to hear.

"Do you dance?"

This wasn't Sherlock's normal job and whilst disguising was a part of it, he had never used it yet to enter a party such as the one they were going to attend. Admittedly, he was excited about the change. A new adventure - one that might even involve dancing. He didn't let on to many people but he did enjoy a dance. As a finishing touch, he ruffled his hair. Sherlock still hadn't seen Elizabeth's outfit for the party and it was safe to say he was curious considering that she had told him the evening before that 'he would find out soon' rather than just showing him the garment there and then. He thought that he had already waited around long enough at the dress shop to earn him a glimpse but apparently not.

The door opened behind him, gaining his attention as Elizabeth walked out, dressed in a simple red, mermaid dress, mask in hand. She was wearing a light layer of foundation and her light brown hair was in an elegant updo. For a moment he found that he was speechless and he had no clue why. She looked radiant.

"Sherlock?" Elizabeth waved her hands in front of him.

He blinked quickly, looking to Elizabeth questioningly.

"I said that I do - dance, I mean." She smiled, "You were in your own little world for a moment, weren't you?"

"Yes - yes, something like that." He nodded now looking to the floor briefly, "That's good - good that you dance."

Silence fell over their short conversation and both of them shuffled on their feet. He had looked at her as though he was actually paying attention to her, rather than daydreaming about other things. Admittedly, it was a bit unsettling but this was Sherlock. She was beginning to learn that he wasn't your average human being in terms of social cues.

John popped his head into the doorway, "Everything okay?"

"Yes, thank you, John." Sherlock nodded, "We were just about to come to the lounge." 

He gestured for Elizabeth to go first and she thanked him quietly, walking past Sherlock. The detective strode after her promptly arriving in the lounge alongside his friend and the thief. Mycroft caused Elizabeth a wary glance, as did she to him. He noticed this of course.

"I won't be sedating you again. I think we would all find it rather pointless at this time."

"Well, a girl can't be too careful." She muttered.

Mycroft didn't respond but instead placed a briefcase on the desk, opening it to reveal some gear for both Elizabeth and Sherlock. Her eyes widened in shock at the idea.

"Woah, hang on. I can't wear a mic." She shook her head, "Do you know what people would do to us if they found that I had lead cops there?"

"Well, it's either wear a mic or imprisonment for life." John shrugged.

"Yes, we have tried to get the most discreet equipment possible for the three of you. They won't know about it so long as you don't hint to anyone."

"And the bright side is that we're not official police so we wouldn't be lying if anyone happened to ask." Sherlock added.

"They wouldn't ask, they would just attack."

Elizabeth sighed, just accepting the fact that there was no way that she was going to the party without, at the very least, a mic.

*  *  *  *  *

"Would you like to dance?" Sherlock asked politely, offering his hand to her, as they entered the private club.

He wanted to waste no time in asking in the fear that they would run out of time to dance before they even began.

"Of course." She smiled, taking his hand, "Should give us a short time to scout out the room."

"What about me?"

"Find your own partner, John." Sherlock rolled his eyes as he already started to drag Elizabeth through the crowd.

Elizabeth threw a quick look back to John, "Head to the bar."

Having been abandoned, he shrugged a carefully made his way through the crowd. Sherlock was very eager to dance; he rarely got the chance to without being interrogated by someone as to why he must. Once they were on the dance floor, he gently took her one hand and laid his other on her waist in a gentlemanly way. She was already beginning to pay attention to the room while he was trying to make an effort to dance and do the same except it was a little difficult when the main thing he wanted to focus on for five minutes, at the very least, was the dancing.

"A bit eager to dance aren't you?" She smiled at him briefly before looking elsewhere in the room again, "I didn't take you for a dancer."

"I'm not," He lied, "Just eager to hide in plain sight." He spoke in a low tone.

Elizabeth gave a little nod as though she didn't quite believe him, but didn't question it further, "Keep your eyes open for Shaun."

"Remind me what he's wearing again." Came John's voice from the miniscule earpiece.

"Yellow suit. Bird mask. He's very - extravagant."

Sherlock was peering over the heads of people until he caught a glimpse of yellow. For a moment he considered not saying anything in the attempt to get a longer dance. But he couldn't do that, he still had a job to do.

"I've got him. He's heading to the bar." He Spun Elizabeth for her to see.

"Okay, I see him." She smiled sweetly at him, "Thanks for the dance," Before slinking her way through the crowd and leaving Sherlock on the edge of the dance floor alone.

She soon appeared by John who casually motioned his head to the side. A little further down the bar was the man in the bright yellow suit, accompanied with a bird mask that had small yellow feathers each side of his eyes. She subtly made her way over to him and approached him from behind. Tapping him on the shoulder, he turned almost whacking her the beak of his bird mask. Shaun tilted his head as he thought about who was behind the mask.

"Ellie?"

She rolled her eyes at the nickname but gave a single nod.

"Anywhere else we can go?"

Shaun looked around the crowd briefly, spotting the stairs on the far side of the room. He nodded in the direction of the staircase.

"I'll get my drink and then I'll be up - go to the second room on the left."

Elizabeth nodded, already beginning to weave her way through the crowd of criminals over to the other side of the club. Having heard what Shaun had said to her, both John and Sherlock headed up the stairs to the room before the both of them. As the men were already inside the room, Elizabeth waited outside for Shaun to appear, ready to allow him to walk in first in order to prevent him from running away if he tried. Shaun appeared shortly after.

"You should have gone in so long."

"I thought it more polite to wait," She opened the door, "After you."

"Thanks." He raised his glass of champagne to her as he entered the room and stopped dead when he saw the two men.

Elizabeth shut the door behind her and locked it. Precautions were to be taken considering that this was the only contact that she could trust to talk to. Shaun chuckled nervously, removing his mask and chucking it on the desk that was beside him. He then took a sip of his drink as he turned to Elizabeth.

"Is there a reason why you brought 'muscle' along, Elle?"

"First: My name's Elizabeth, not Ellie, not Elle, not Lizzie, not Liz or any other godforsaken nickname that you can derive from my bloody name."

Sherlock and John briefly gave each other a look - mental note taken: don't call Elizabeth anything other than Elizabeth. She took a breath as she removed her mask and then chuckled a bit, a smile creeping across her lips.

"Second: How are you? Also third: are you supposed to be a baby chicken?"

"One: you like the nicknames really, two: great, thank you, three: the design is based on a yellow cardinal - if you're good with your birds you would know."

Shaun chuckled as he opened his arms wide to embrace her to which she happily obliged. He then said with a fake joyful tone:

"You still didn't explain the 'muscle'."

"Yeah, that's the fourth thing." She pulled out of the embrace, "You didn't by any chance hear that I was 'caught' recently, did you?"

"You can't have been caught if you're here."

Shaun grinned but Elizabeth didn't reciprocate the action and instead had a rather awkward yet serious look on her face. She nodded to Sherlock and John.

Shaun turned to see the men taking off their masks, "Unless you - shit, Elizabeth - " He turned back to face her, "Are there more cops here?"

"We're not official cops and we're not here for you." Sherlock spoke up, gaining Shaun's attention again.

"We heard that you might have some information regarding Moriarty." John piped up.

He chuckled nervously, "You dobbed me in? Jim could have my head if I tell you anything."

"Shaun, what part of 'they're not here for you', didn't you understand?" Elizabeth put her hand on his shoulder, "Jim won't know so long as you don't let on - it's not like you meet with him face to face anyway."

This time Shaun took Elizabeth by her shoulders and shook her slightly. Both Sherlock and John moved to stop Shaun until he spoke:

"There are more of Jim's men here. If they know that you're here, playing detective with your new friends, they'll kill all of us. You might be the closest thing to Jim in terms of family but don't for one second think that that will protect you, Elizabeth."

"You think I don't know that? You think we all don't know that, Shaun? Jim's done things that I can't justify. I didn't want this but this needs to stop."

"I can't believe they turned you this easy!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're fickle, Elizabeth." Shaun let go of her and pinched the top of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, "What did they offer you?"

"We gave her an ultimatum." Sherlock piped up, "Help us track down Moriarty or face life imprisonment."

"So you decided to turn on the only real family you've had, just to not go to prison?"

Elizabeth didn't talk but Shaun continued.

"If you went to prison, someone would be bound to help you get out. Why would you doubt that? Did you not trust the network or something? Did you not trust Jim?"

"Stop. Please, Shaun."

"Why? I want to know why you were compelled to help the other side? It can't have been just your morals. We all have morals but that alone wouldn't have been enough, not enough to turn your back on family. You wanted to save your own skin, didn't you? Didn't trust us enough to help so you thought you'd get out of this no matter how many others you would bring down. Once upon a time, I would have called you a good, dependable thief but you just hide behind whoever has the best offer."

Sherlock spoke up again at seeing Elizabeth's discomfort, "As we said before, we're not here for you. We just want information about where Moriarty might be and then we'll leave."

Shaun turned to face Sherlock, "You've never done anything for me, why do you think I might help you?"

"When we take down this network, we're the ones that decide whether we let you go scot-free or not."

"I'm not turning my back on the people who actually gave a damn about me, unlike the public services."

"You owe me, Shaun." Elizabeth had spoken up again, laying her hand on his arm, "Remember Paris? And Krakow? Moscow? I'm calling in every favour I have from you. Give us something, anything, and I won't come back to you for anything else. Please, Shaun."

Shaun grabbed her arm and held it for a moment, "You turned your back on the only people who cared for you. The favours are nonexistent now." He let go of her arm.

Elizabeth looked away, resenting herself for the choices she had made. When Sherlock had told her about the terrible things that Jim had done to him and others, she realised she couldn't ignore it anymore. All the time before that, she had been able to dismiss it but Sherlock put it into perspective for her and now this was making her seem fickle. Shaun was right, she had turned her back on family, but not only to save her own skin. Morals were a huge part of her decision. Wanting to protect the innocent public from the horrific things that Jim did was another. Still, the guilt got to her. She was fickle. She was a traitor. She had turned her back on the people she considered her family.

John had been listening very carefully to the conversation and had been considering what to say to turn the situation around.

He spoke up to Shaun, "You said that Elizabeth was family, yes?"

"Was."

"If your family wanted to try a different route, you'd want to support them, yes?"

"Yes, but not like this."

"Elizabeth's trying to make her life better. She's also trying to help you. In coming to you, she's giving you a way out as well. If you help us, you will be given the same offer that she has been given. You will also have a clean slate." John tried to empathise his point, "Because you are family, she wants to help you but only if you can help us."

Shaun didn't speak but he considered John's point and looked back to Elizabeth who looked at him with a hopeful yet saddened gaze. She walked over to him, standing in front of him and looking up at her friend with a wistful look.

"Please."

Shaun sighed, shaking his head, eyes closed as if the sight of her could change his mind in a heartbeat, "Christ..."

The three of them all waited with bated breath as Shaun thought about what to say. As this was happening though, Sherlock could have sworn that he saw something on the back of Elizabeth's dress move, as if the colour itself was alive and writhing at the discomfort of the situation. The detective blinked the ridiculous thought away; colours couldn't move. 

Shaun opened his eyes again, looking Elizabeth right in the eye, "You know he never stays in one place for long. You know his network is essentially worldwide, not just based in the UK. I don't know where he'll be but I do know what he may be doing. But you know he won't stop until you're dead, you're dead, and you're dead," For every repetition, his glance moved from Elizabeth to Sherlock, to John and then back to the thief, "If you know and accept that then all I can tell you is that the word is he is planning an assassination on a member of parliament. Someone asked him last - "

Sherlock was no longer paying attention to what Shaun had to say though as the thought of colour moving popped into his mind again when he saw the red appear to travel up her dress until it was on her bare upper back. A single red dot. A red dot trained on her back. It dawned on him then about what was about to happen.

Sherlock yelled, "Get down!"

The glass of the window shattered and the scene was a blur.  

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