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Sherlock, to say the least, was not happy with Arsene. When the ran started to pour, Arsene’s grin became livelier. It gave Sherlock a really bad feeling he was going to do something stupid. And here was the reason why. Arsene had thrown a black inverness cape on, which made him look ridiculously rich. It also hid his wildcard clothing and, if his mask was removed, made him look more like a gentleman than a thief.

“Come on, I’m going to get us shelter.”

Oh boy, here we go. What stupid thing was he going to do now?

For about thirty minutes, the group waited in an alleyway, each one improvising their own shelter. Crorie, of course that empty head would, had her umbrella, which she opened. Ugh, he wanted to slap her across the face for that.

After a half hour of waiting in the rain, Arsene came back.

“Where have you been, you twit?”

Arsene smirked. “I was arranging a couple hotel rooms for us.”

Following Arsene’s lead, they walked up to a hotel. Not just any hotel, but a huge, luxurious hotel. The kind only filthy rich people could get into.

Entering, Arsene directed the group inside. Greeting the door man there, Arsene said in his most haughty voice possible. “Dear sir, now that my companions and I are soaking wet, please give me the keys to our rooms.”

The man, evidently confused at how the numbskull swordsman and brat were handcuffed together, spoke. “Of course, give me your names please.”

Arsene, gasping and looking very offended, responded in a shocked voice. “Tell you my name! Tell you my name! Why, do you not recognize Thurston Howell the Third when you see him!? My dear boy, I think you need to cool off.”

Immediately, Arsene shook his cape, showering EVERYONE in that vicinity. Although Sherlock would have loved to kick Arsene in the foot for that, he couldn’t help but notice Arsene had pulled something out of his cloak.

“My card, if you will.”

The man took the card, looking at it in a very puzzled manner. Sherlock saw how Arsene had picked a key off the rack, while the man was distracted.

“Oh well,” Arsene said in a weary voice, “I guess I’ll have to seek out my friend, Mr. R.E. Morgan.”

Leading them to an elevator, Arsene sighed in his most exhausted way possible. “Goodbye.”

Seriously, that actually worked. How long would it take for the fool to figure out he was scammed.

Oh well, anyone who fell for that deserved to get scammed.