(no subject)

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim is leaning back against the Bar.

He appears to be casually nursing the drink in his hand.

Comments

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim smirks.

"I thought you might be."

He deposits his largely-untouched drink onto the Bar and heads toward the stairs without another word.

[wearsthecoats]

Sherlock likewise abandons his coffee and follows.

"Is there a reason for this?" he inquires on the way. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you." Far from it.

[searchingfordistraction]

"My friend with the unfortunate taste in ringtones has a Victorian counterpart who's found herself in a tight spot," Jim says. "Going as a woman instead of a man is less likely to get us both shot."

He'd hate to get any version of Irene Adler shot.

[wearsthecoats]

"Ahhhh. Sounds like fun," he says brightly.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim flicks an unreadable glance at him and doesn't answer.

Helping Irene is never about fun. Even if it sometimes ends up being fun anyway.

(And he thinks this will.)

[wearsthecoats]

Sherlock just grins.

(He's yet to meet anyone who inspires in him that kind of protective regard.)

"Or perhaps that's just my opinion of you in a corset."

[searchingfordistraction]

There is definitely a lot more to read in this glance, very deliberately so.

Why else does Sherlock think Jim chose him to help?

[wearsthecoats]

He laughs.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim exhales a soft chuckle and leads the way upstairs.

This time, apparently, Sherlock has earned the right to enter Jim's room.

[wearsthecoats]

He looks around, of course. You couldn't pay him not to. But, to be honest, his mind is rather more occupied with envisioning Jim in a dress than with analyzing his surroundings.

[searchingfordistraction]

It's fairly basic, as Milliways rooms go. Almost everything, including the carpet and the walls, has been replaced recently. There's a safe whose components are neither contemporary to Jim and Sherlock's respective times nor human-made; there aren't many people in existence who could break into it, and as far as Jim has been able to determine, none of them come to Milliways.

The dress in question, with the accompanying chemise, is hanging on a rack next to a full-length mirror. The corset and the most likely options for filling it out properly are on a nearby table.

[wearsthecoats]

Envisioning Jim in that dress is an arresting experience. But after a self-indulgent few seconds he looks over the selection and then turns to Jim to determine how to proceed.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim is already undressing. He's not wearing a suit today, just the t-shirt and trousers he showed up at Seb's in last night, so it doesn't take long.

[wearsthecoats]

In which case he shrugs and waits to be useful, although he keeps stealing glances at the corset while he does it.

[searchingfordistraction]

"You can start by handing me that chemise," he suggests, amused, as he drapes his clothes over a chair.

[wearsthecoats]

He snorts, picks it up, and hands it over. This being Jim and all, he hasn't been bothering to fuss with his temperature since they started up the stairs; his hands are cold.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim smiles at him as their fingers touch.

Then he slips into the chemise, saying,

"I assume you can work out the corset as we go."

It isn't an overly complicated process by their standards.

[wearsthecoats]

"It doesn't seem to be very complex, mechanically speaking," he agrees. The corset also seeming to be logically next on the list, he picks it up too.

[searchingfordistraction]

It's already laced, loosely enough to slide on over Jim's head. He had it altered a bit after the initial fitting, adding a layer of material to the top that will help hold the false breasts in place over the chemise while remaining unnoticeable once the dress is on. If anyone has got close enough to realize something isn't quite right about them, chances are it won't be his biggest concern at the moment anyway.

"Just tight enough so it won't fall off for the moment," he says.

[wearsthecoats]

"All right," he says, and gets to work on the laces.

It is not, indeed, an overly complicated process.

[searchingfordistraction]

The process of choosing the right material for filling out the corset is likewise not as difficult as Jim may have implied it would be earlier. In some ways, it's actually easier than it is at home, since he needn't worry about making them look as realistic as he would in only, say, a bra and a cocktail dress. Between the corset and the heavier fabric of this dress, texture is not much of an issue.

It doesn't take long for Jim to find exactly what he wants.

[wearsthecoats]

Sherlock has not been able to keep his hands off Jim since the corset went on. Not that he's exactly been trying.

"You look gorgeous," he observes, running his fingers through Jim's hair. "Going to check if it holds up under the dress?"

This may or may not be—or, all right, is completely transparently—an excuse to get Jim into said dress where Sherlock can see him.

[searchingfordistraction]

"If you don't knock that off," Jim murmurs, without any hint of real irritation, "you're going to make me ruin the effect."

Tucking is not necessary with the way the dress is cut and layered, but getting an erection could still pose a problem.

[wearsthecoats]

Sherlock smirks.

"Hardly ruined for my purposes. Though probably for yours," he concedes.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim smirks back at him in the mirror.

"Later, darling. Now lace me up properly so I can get into the dress."

No doubt Sherlock can eyeball the necessary measurements.