Your eyes scanned the room of richy riches dancing in the large artist exhibit ballroom. For the eighth time, you tried to distract yourself with the mission instead of focusing on your dance partner and where his hands held you as he lead you expertly around the dance floor. You looked up at him for a fraction of a second only to pause as his eyes met yours.

"Any sign of our picture-perfect perpetrator?"

You smirked at the name you made up for Greg Markins, the germaphobe art smuggler and duplicator. You glanced around the room one last time before letting out a small laugh with a slight shake of your head.

"Who knew there were a lot of bald, rich men who like gray suits and beautiful women hanging on their arms."

"Perhaps it is time I saw my hairdresser. Seems I am behind on the trend, seeing as how I have two of the four aforementioned details."

You giggled. "Hardly. Only if you like art showroom parties and being pegged as the villain from every crime movie. You have too oddly a shaped head to be bald. I doubt you even own a gray suit. And you aren't even that rich." You glanced at him before you nodded to a dancing couple beside you, the woman being very striking and almost the complete opposite of you. "Plus, you need to find yourself a pretty dancing partner."

Sherlock kept his face from showing his distain of you verbally discrediting yourself. You looked stunning in your dress, your body fitting perfectly with is. He continued to glance around the room as he held you close, your body's moving like water across the dance floor flawlessly in sync with one another. He made a point to take you out dancing seeing as how you had quite the skill for it. And he wouldn't mind holding you close once more.

"I like to think I have the prettiest one in the room."

You looked down at your feet and blushed, accidently causing you to miss a step, making your knee hit his but he didn't even flinch. You whispered an apology but he had stopped dancing, holding you close as if he were whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But it was much better. Your neck prickled with excitement as he whispered to you exactly what you wanted to hear.

"Five o'clock. Red pin on left collar. 5'6" Brunette on his right arm. Spill your drink then meet me in the purple glass room."

And with that he was gone. You shivered with the sudden absence of his warm hands that held to you his intoxicatingly good smelling body. But as your eyes laid on the target your personal feeling fell away and your instincts kicked in.

Carefully, you grabbed a cup of punch and walked over to them where it looked like they were trying to leave. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen but you trusted him to be doing his part of the mission. You smiled as you passed people, pretending like you were seeing acquaintances and not paying attention to your surroundings. You stumbled and tilted your cup, your feigned smiles faltering into equally insincere worry. The cry of a distressed woman alerted you of hitting your target.

You grabbed a waiter's hand towel and rambled on in their Hungarian accent about being sorry, offering to pay for the cleaning. You tried to ignore the glint of a familiar piece of jewelry hanging around the woman's neck. Turning to Gary Markins who you happened to hit as well, you wiped him down, making sure to smile as sweetly as you could. His cold grey eyes made your middle lurch with a hint of fear but you hid it with a sorry smile. He dismissed you with a cold wave of his hands as he stepped by you. The woman glared at you and continued to compline to the older man who plainly ignored her. You swallowed a small laugh as you held the damp hand towel in your hand, equally ignoring the staff that offered to take it from you.

Quickly you made your way to the purple glass room, looking around to make sure no one saw you before entering. You sucked in a breath as you were greeted with a half-dressed Sherlock, the wind from an open window making his hair toss lightly. You cleared your throat and he turned to you, nodding to the towel in your hand.

"Drop it in that glass, we need only the chemicals from his clothes."

You opened the towel and showed him the wallet you picked off Markins inside.

"I did you one better."

Sherlock shrugged on a white shirt and came over to you. He inspected the wallet and nodded his approval. The man may be an artist mastermind but daft enough to keep a copy of his plans in a hotel keycard in his wallet. You tried to ignore this smell as he tried to equally ignore your closeness. Neither of you showed either's halting feelings. Instead Sherlock placed the wallet on the table next to the glass of chemical break down before reaching over and grabbing his coat.

"Good. Wait here until I call for you. John is waiting for us downstairs. I need to take care of some loose ends before we let the justice system's flawed methods let this man back into the free people after we have just caught him."

He looked upset and you had an idea why. Gary wasn't the first one to try and duplicate and steal art. And this wasn't your first time looking for culprit of such a heist. Gary was one of many branches off the blood money tree. Sadly, they grew faster than the two of you could cut them down but Sherlock always made it a point to make sure the ones close by were no longer a threat.

That's how Sherlock found you; running in high heels away from a group of guards as you held incriminating evidence in your hands. He came back all beat up and bloodied but proud as he told you that they were taken care of. Then, it was only fair for you to give your services to him as a spy of sorts.

To your surprise, he kept you close, the two of you working hard to find the next big underground mastermind, all to John's displeasure as he soon saw you as a sister and close friend. Now you saw on his face the same look of determination he held the day you met him, and it worried you. You wanted him to come back in one piece and preferably not all bloodied. You lost something dear to you that night and wished to not lose anything more. Especially the calculating detective.

You reached out before he got far, your hand gently grasping his arm. You saw the scars on his body from his first impromptu rescue mission and your heart ached. Sherlock turned, his eyes finding yours, making your words come out a bit choppier than you had planned.

"Please, Sherlock," you looked to the side and swallowed before meeting his gaze, "be careful. It won't hurt to leave a few of the thugs to wonder around without a leader once we take Markins out.

Sherlock visibly relaxed at your words, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Yes, but I don't like the idea of them coming after you. You are wearing heels this time."

"I don't have time to worry about your thick head as you make me wait in the getaway car and watch you get beat up or run from an unnecessary explosion."

"I'll be sure to warn you of my whereabouts the moment I feel the least bit of your worry."

You shook your head and let his harm go. He missed your touch terribly.

"Fine. But this is the last time. Next time I'm telling John."

Sherlock nearly snorted. "Oh no, not Mother John."

"Hey now, he only worries for your safety and it seems as though you take his words to heart more than mine."

Sherlock took an alarmingly close step toward you. Your eyes widened a bit as your heart quickened. He reached up but his hand paused before he did anything that would distract him from the now.

"You have no idea the amount of power you have over me. I just wish to protect you for as long as I can before I lose myself to you forever."

And with that he was gone. You blinked as you regained your breath, your mind working overtime to process what he meant. You dared not hope that your tall, dark, and handsome partner was falling for you just as you were falling for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock grappled with the last guard before he raced off down the street and to the corner where you were anxiously waiting. The car started and began to drive off as you leaned over and opened his door and he jumped in. You glared at him as he situated himself, ruffling his hair and fixing his coat. You spied a bit of blood on his shirt and his knuckles quickly turning purple. You continued to glare at him even as he glanced up at you.

But instead of explaining his actions or ignoring you all to gather, he smiled. He looked down and smirked, knowing how upset you would be and could only let his smile grow as he looked up at you. You were taken aback but you didn't let his charming smile disarm you.

"Explain yourself. I detest your tactics entirely."

He said nothing as he held his hand out to you, a glint of light catching your eyes. You let out a huff a you looked down but your jaw dropped. There in his calloused hand was your necklace you had lost all those months ago. You tentatively reached out and touched the thin chain as if it might disappear before your eyes.

Sherlock reached up with one hand to move away your hair so he could clasp the jewelry around your neck. He let his fingers linger moment art the nape of your neck as he watched you reach up and feel it rest against your chest. The car took a sharp turn and you fell back, into Sherlock's chest. Neither of you moved accept to get a bit more comfortable with his arm around your waist and your head on his shoulder. You looked up at him, your fingers still on your necklace.

"Alright. So perhaps I approve of your tactics...just a bit."

Sherlock smiled again and you smiled back, your heart flitting wildly at his gorgeous face lighting up just for you.

"I thought you might." Sherlock kept his arm around your waist, his other hand reaching up to stroke a hair from your face. "I remember you telling me you lost something dear to you. I assumed it was the chain around the woman's neck when I saw you hesitate for a moment. She was quick to give it up when I told her it wasn't of any worth like the paintings her man was selling."

You continued to look up at him, searching his face as he spoke.

"You listened to me?"

Sherlock glanced down at you and gave you a small smile. He took your hand in his and kissed it softly but didn't let it go.

"Every time you speak, I listen. Not one word you say goes unheeded."

You snorted. "Unless it's when I tell you not to get into trouble." You stroked the scrapes on his knuckles as the car drove on smoothly.

He kissed the top of your head gently and whispered into your hair. "Forgive me. I promise to make it up to you."

You leaned into him, your eyes closing in contentment. "I will hold you to that."

 I'm back in the US of A!!!!! Get ready for loads of stories I got time to write while it rained hahaha ENJOY!