Sparkling Diamonds

"I'm the production designer for whatever TV show you're from?" I said, shocked to hear the news.

"Sherlock, to be exact," Mark replied, flicking through the folder that he had in front of him and slid my contract across the table to me.

I couldn't reach it so Bianca reached out and handed it to me. She glanced over at the pieces of paper that I had obtained as I read it also, finding that I had a substantial pay rise along with my position and over the filming for these three movie length episodes, my husband and I could move out of the apartment that we now lived in. Not like he would approve, of course. The controlling bastard.

"You will mainly be working in costumes, of course," Mark said, pulling out another contract and handing it over to Bianca. "But you will be sharing the role with Bianca Woods who will be working on the props and set side of things." Bianca took the contract from Mark, completely stunned as I was in the roles that we had just been given. "Did you have anyone that you would like to be on the team before we announce the rest of the crew that will be joining you?"

He had directed the question to both myself and Bianca but it seemed that I was the more recovered one of the two of us so I said, "Eliza Imai, definitely."

Eliza smiled at me as Mark searched through his folder and pulled out her contract, and said, "We already had you down for the team but good to know that you're friends here have such faith in you."

"Thanks," Eliza said, taking her contract and quickly started to read over her contract.

"And I am Steven Moffat," he said, Mark's co-producer said. "I am the co-creator of this series and one of the main producers of this series. I occasionally help out this guy with the script."

"He can try," Mark laughed, along with some of the other members of the crew that attended this meeting.

"I will be organising you all and making sure that you're on time," Steven said. "We have three episodes to film at an hour and a half in length. We begin at the end of the week. Come up and get your contracts and make sure you get it back to me by the end of today. Now, scoot."

I pulled out a pen from the bag that I had packed and signed the contract without even reading the rest of it. I handed it back to Mark and stood from my seat. Bianca and Eliza handed their contracts soon after I had signed mined. We walked out of the crowded room and into the even more hectic room full of people moving about and working on the television shows, or even movies, that had yet to reach the market place.

Bianca made a noise of excitement as she drew Eliza and I into a hug, saying, "This is so exciting!"

"You know, I would be more excited if I could use the money that I earned for something that my husband wouldn't be suspicious of," I said as we broke apart and headed for the elevators to take us to a different floor.

"Don't dampen the mood, Di," Bianca said. "He'll be out of your hair in a few days."

"But that doesn't mean he will stop checking the bank account," I said as the lift arrived and the three of us boarded. "Design office?"

_________________________________________________________________

The design office for the BBC, or specifically "Sherlock," was about a block away from the main BBC offices. Since both Gatiss and Moffat were also heavily involved in the creation of Dr. Who, they had practically been given their own production house to create the shows from.

It didn't take us long to get there but when we entered the two story building, we were awestruck by the amount of props and technical equipment the place was stocked out with. I was proud that I had managed to get myself attached to a project such as this and was surprised I had never tried to apply to get into either of the shows earlier.

The receptionist in the foyer directed us to the second level which was dedicated to the production of "Sherlock." There were a few small offices, two that were Moffat's and Gatiss', while the one that Bianca, Eliza and I were most interested in was a large office dedicated to the three of us to coming up with ideas for production design.

There was a large window against the wall that looked out onto the city with a pin board wall that was dedicated to us sticking up ideas and drawings that we had. On the other was a massive white board where we could doodle and raw sketches to try and describe to others when they came in. It also doubled as a projector screen with a project not far from it.

There were three desks lined up against the window with personal mac computers for the rest of us. the rest was filled up with a large space where we would be working on costumes, if we needed to create them, props and everything we needed to design.

A large smile spread across my face as I closed the door behind me and picked the desk opposite it. I heard Eliza saying as we all picked a desk, "I think I might like this job."

"Here here," Bianca concurred as we sat in our seats.

I spun around in mine and looked out the window behind me. Although it wasn't much of a view, I liked to look out the window and watch the world go by -- completely ignorant of the people that they didn't know.

Somehow, my mind drifted back to the life I was living at home and how no one knew of the pains and the struggles that I experienced every night from my husband. In saying that, I wasn't the only one who was experience such disturbing acts from a partner but in my situation, I felt totally isolated, alone, and I had definitely no one to talk to about it.

It was a touchy subject with Eliza and Bianca too, so I really did feel alone in this world with this problem. LIke before, they kind of pushed it off as if it would stop one day but I knew that it wouldn't. It wouldn't stop until the day I walked out that door and never returned.

Did I have the guts to do that? To leave my husband behind and stop fearing him? Well, I knew for a fact that I would never stop fearing my husband because there would always be that feeling that I had in the deep recesses of my mind that I would remember what he had done to me and fear the day that he did it again.

I was snapped out of my reverie by a deep, beautifully sounding voice from the door behind me. As I turned around, I saw that Bianca and Eliza were completely stunned by who they saw at the door.

Today is really going to be full of surprises, isn't it? I thought to myself.

When I had turned around fully to the door to see who it was, I almost screamed and fell out of my chair. It wasn't just one, but two men that stood at the door but only one of them had spoke. I could tell whom owned the deep voice because by the looks of the other that stood at the door, it didn't look like he could possess such a creamy voice.

"Are we interrupting something?" the man towards the front asked.

His eyes swung across the three of us, studying us briefly before they settled upon me. We stared at each other for a moment before his light brown eyebrow raised. I quickly became flustered, looking down at my fingers before I made an answer.

"No, no," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "We're just new here, that's all."

"I see," he said, walking into the room with a much shorter friend of his whom closed the door behind them.

The man walked towards me, around the desk and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I could tell his friend was becoming annoyed at the action that this man in front of me was taking as he said, "Come on, Ben. Leave Sherlock for the set. They're new here, leave them alone."

"We've actually been here for ten years," I could hear Eliza say as I continued to look down at my hands. "But we're knew to the television show, if that's what you mean."

"Hnmnm," the man in front of me said. "Look up at me."

My eyes flickered up to his face, only a moment to study his features, before looking down at my hands. In that momentary glance, I saw a fierce intensity in his eyes that reminded me of my husband when I had first met him. They were a beautiful green, the rare ray of London sunlight streaming through the window to highlight his soul.

He had light brown hair but I could tell that I had been dyed brown as I could see the blond regrowth in the roots of his hair. With high cheek bones and a very thin, angular face, his lips were perfectly curved as if they had been painted on.

His eyes flickered when I looked into his eyes and deep into his soul, his iris' widening as if he had realised something. Whatever he realised, I hoped it was the same as what I felt because when I looked into those eyes of his, it felt like I had known this man forever. It felt like all my past had been erased and all that exhausted in this moment was this man.

Unconsciously, I reached out to him and placed my finger tips upon his cheeks. His skin felt cold, but warming under the current conditions. His hair had been windswept and dotted with the London snow.

"Where have I seen you before?" I asked him.

"TV, possibly," he replied smoothly.

I let out a small laugh as I said, "I've never seen an episode of 'Sherlock.' I just meant…I feel like we've met before."