Hello, I'm trying another Sherlock fic and hopefully this one will do as well as my other 7 Sherlock stories did. I've got one open, 'Memories' and it's full of outtakes and alternate scenes from the other 7.
This is going to be a period piece, so that's going to be a bit of a different setting as Sherlock will not have too many modern conveniences. But, keep your eyes open for little nods to the episodes here and there. And, I chose to keep Tammy because I feel that I couldn't create another female OC, since she is the best OC, I've managed to pull off. Celine Dion's hit 'If you asked me to' is responsible for this one. And to those who haven't heard, congratulations to Benedict Cumberbatch!
And as always, I own nothing except for Tammy.
Chapter One: A shock for both parties
The early autumn of 1912,
I stared at my father and stepmother in complete shock. "You did what?" I gasped out, hoping that I'd heard their ridiculous announcement wrong. They couldn't have just announced that I was to wed a Mr. Sherlock Holmes, a man I'd never met before next month! I'd never met the man before, but from what I had heard of him in polite society, was that he was a crazy individual who did the most bizarre things.
Father at least had the decency to look semi-apologetic for the shocking cannonball that he'd just dropped on my poor, spinning head mere moments ago. "It's a great opportunity for us to advance in society."
"So you agree to marry me off to some man that I've never known before!?" I demand as I jump from my chair, clutching the silky, pale pink material in my trembling, sweaty hands. "And a lunatic at that! You can't do that!"
My stepmother's eyes flashed. "It's done! You're to meet him and his parent's tomorrow afternoon at tea. And if, you meet with their approval, you're going to wed him next month."
I looked at the man who'd been my father for the nineteen years of my life. Staring at him now, I could barely believe that he'd given into this ridiculous idea of my stepmother's. I'm certain it was hers, it had to be. "I cannot believe this! You promised mother on her deathbed that I'd be allowed to marry for love!"
He glowered at me; he always hated it when I brought up my mother in front of my stepmother's presence. "I am sorry that I cannot yield to your mother's wishes, but circumstances force me to make this decision."
I crossed my arms, now getting to core of the problem. "Circumstances? Have you been gambling again? Are your investments not paying off?" His silence answered my questions. "So you sell your only daughter to pay for your mistakes?"
His eyes flashed as he stood up. "It doesn't give me pleasure to break my vows, but I have no other alternative."
I glowered down my nose at him, delighting in annoying him. "I am not going to be party to this. I love another!" They both paused, not expecting that outburst from me, nor were they excepting such a shocking claim. "Timothy." I was lying of course, Timothy and I were friends for many years, but I'd never marry him. I had sworn that I wouldn't marry any man unless I loved him deeply with a fervent passion. However, as I had yet to meet that man, I was being forced to borrow another man to get myself out of this situation.
My stepmother let out a disbelieve laugh. "A footman!"
"We love, honor and respect each other." I pointed out to her the logical reasons why it would be possible for them to believe that we'd formed an attachment for each other. I only hoped that I could get to timothy and explain to him why I said such a thing before they did. "We're great friends."
"And unless you wish for his employment to be terminated," my father threatened. He was always very good at making threats and he knew how to come up with the diabolic schemes in moments. "you will not speak to him on such matters."
I rolled my eyes, attempting to call his bluff and I hope to God that he was bluffing. "As if I'm frightened of your feeble threats. He can always get work elsewhere."
"Unless I blacken his name," my father stepped forward. "one of our serving maids is pregnant."
I snorted in disgust and revulsion. "Another woman to fall victim of you and your unsustainable lust, father? What's the matter, your second wife not good enough for you?"
"Watch it you!" His brow arched in barely contained fury. "I can easily bribe her to name your timothy as her rapist and he can spend the rest of his life in prison."
I glowered. "You just confessed everything to me."
"I can easily have you locked out of the way until he's been convicted to serving a life sentence, and you know it!" He shot back at me. "Besides, given your reputation for hysterical moments, it would be easy to persuade them that you'd lie, under oath, to protect the man that you claim to love and have grown up with. Your testimony wouldn't do any good." Temporary defeat washed over me as I realized that there was some truth in what he said. However, I wouldn't be deterred and I immediately and mentally began making plans to get a duplicate copy of the key to my bedroom door. I'd also see if there was a book in my father's library that would allow me to learn how to pick a lock, if he chose to change the locks on me. "Now, get upstairs and began planning what you're going to wear tomorrow!"
I glowered as I spun on my heel and turned to stomp out of the room. Well, I'd do everything in my power to come across as the most disagreeable woman in the world. Then, Mr. Sherlock Holmes would change his mind.
"You did what?" Sherlock shouted at his brother as he carefully set the chemical solution down on the table before he succumbed to the urge to throw it at Mycroft and burn several holes in his always-so-pristine suit. Mycroft, as always, appeared unappeased as he tolerated Sherlock's tantrum. "I am not going to get married to some female I've never heard of before! And how'd you get her to agree to such a stupid thing?"
"Ask her yourself when she gets here."
Sherlock's head shoots up at his brother's words. "When she gets here? What's she doing here?"
"Her parents," Mycroft explained simply. "discussed the possibilities of such a marriage taking place with her yesterday. She's going to be here in a few hours, with her parents, so mother sent me to make sure that you're ready to receive her."
Sherlock shook his head. "No, not going there."
"Oh, yes you are."
Sherlock glowered at him. "And since when has my marital status become such a priority? You're the eldest!"
Mycroft scowled at him. "I'm not the ones who's getting talked about in such a suspicious light."
"Your relationship with John Watson-
He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh for God's sake!" He snapped. "Your problem is the use of the word 'relationship.' People can be such idiots. He's my colleague, end of story."
"However, he is the only person of which you spend your company with day and night." Mycroft pointed out as he picked up one of Sherlock's slide and began to examine the poison on it. Sherlock reached up and plucked it out of his hands without even looking up at his brother. "Don't be surprised if people assume that you're another Oscar Wilde. Your insistence to continue to dally in all sorts of scientific experiments already makes you another Doctor Jekyll."
"Keep this up and you'll have to write a book about me. I am neither Mr. Wilde nor Doctor Jekyll." Sherlock pulls on his gloves. "Now, get out of here. I've got to finish the tests to prove that Mrs. Hepplewhite was murdered by her husband."
"Not, until you promise me that you'll be here at 1:00 sharp to receive Miss Tammy Hake and her parents on time, cleaned and ready."
"Nope." He popped the 'p' on purpose, knowing it irritated his brother. "And I refuse to have anything to do with a woman so ridiculously named."
"Fine, then I shall have to have mummy deal with you." Sherlock groaned and closed his eyes. Mycroft at least talked civilly. His mother would rant and rave emotional nonsense until he agreed to her demands. If he wanted to finish this case, he needed silence.
"Fine, I give you my word. Now get out!"
"Good. Moreover, don't forget to comb your hair. It's always untidy."
Sherlock snorted. "Well, I'm not slicking it back like yours. I'd look like an idiot."
"You are an idiot Sherlock." Mycroft reminded him, in the irritating, older brother tone. "I'm the smart one."
Sherlock snorted. "Why don't you go smoke your pipe or cigarettes and get sick on them?"
"I promised mummy that I'd give up smoking, and I have."
"Then you better start cleaning your hands better. There's tobacco stains on them."
"Thank you." Mycroft sneers. "I shall do so."
"Good. Now get out of here."
And thankfully, Mycroft did so without further protest. Sherlock peered into his microscope in a huff. He was going to have a huge argument with his parents after he decided how he was going to chase this woman out of his life. People were so annoying and suspicious. John was courting Mary Morstan and he excepted that their engagement was going to be announced at the end of the year. People were stupid and they had the most stupid ideas. If only people could mind their own business and let him get on with his life.
Then he recognized the poison. He'd spent many hours mentally filing aside the various types of poison, but he hadn't expected it to be this particular poison. Clostridium botulinum. One of the most deadly poisons in the world. Mr. Hepplewhite must have realized that his wife was having an affair and thought that the poison would have been virtually undetectable. And it had been, except Sherlock didn't like the man and was certain he'd poisoned his wife. Inspector Lestrade would hopefully realized that Sherlock did know what he was talking about after this.
Sherlock exhaled as he looked around his laboratory. He began thinking about what he was going to do. He'd dropped an eyeball in one girl's cup of tea and she threatened to jump out of the window if her parents forced her to marry him. The other, she was easier to scare off, he just walked into the room with his skull in one hand and some eyeballs in the other. She turned and walked out of the house without a single word. This woman, Tammy Hake, was unfamiliar to him. Therefore, that meant that either she was of the lower society or her parents were in debt some way or another. She'd probably be easy to freak out. Then, his eyes fell on the sheet and he grinned. Well, he was going to scare the little Miss Hake out of the house.