This story was inspired by my love of the 1920's era, all those bright young things in London living the high life on family money. Just as the title says diamonds, drugs and lots and lots of decadence...something I think Sherlock could do very well. So here's my take on that world. It's modern day but maybe with a retro feel.

Before we start though, I've been catching up on all Ben's US promo work from SNL to Jimmy Fallon and I've loved it all...he's getting hotter with age!

Chapter 1

It was a funny old case. Sherlock had never taken one on for his parents before. Mycroft yes, plenty of times unfortunately, but whilst his parents nodded and smiled when they heard about his work he wasn't sure they had ever really taken it seriously.

It was a surprise therefore when they came to see him on behalf of one of his mother's oldest friends Lady Kinestra. She and his mother had attended finishing school in Geneva together. Sherlock remembered her regular visits from his youth. She'd always been incredibly posh and had looked down on his mum for her choice of husband. He'd once overheard her saying, 'yes well, Violet, he's attractive and kind I'll give you that...he always was but you should never have married him. You should have just kept him in reserve for an affair. Nobody cares about affairs anymore, they're no big deal, we all just turn a blind eye so long as they're discreetly handled. You marry for money and where you fuck is no one's business but your own. You could have had your pick and you know it. I don't know how you cope, I really don't.'

It had been his grandmother's money that had paid for his and Mycroft's education but her generosity never extended to his parents. She too had not approved of her daughter's choice and so his parents had made do on his father's good but not lavish salary.

Her money, when she had died had been held in trust for the two brothers until their thirtieth birthdays and Sherlock's even longer due to his ongoing drug habit. It was only now that he'd had his thirty third birthday that he finally had control of it himself. The money didn't bother him. Yes, it meant he could pick and choose his cases a little more and he could join with Mycroft in ensuring their parents had a more comfortable retirement but he had no plans to join the rich set and live the high life.

It looked as though that might change though.

It had been a Wednesday morning when the doorbell had rung and seeing as Mrs Hudson was out he'd gone down with no suspicions about who might be on the other side. His first instinct on seeing his parents had been to shut the door. Not because he didn't like them, he did, they were just boring. His mother would expect tea and would then ramble on for hours about people he neither cared about nor wanted to hear of and he had better things to do with his morning. He'd been planning on joining Molly in Barts and finishing off the experiments they'd started yesterday on the lungs of a road traffic accident victim. He had wanted to see if there was a way to simulate death by drowning post mortum.

His father seemed to sense what he might do and he put his hand against the door to stop him, his eyebrows raised in a silent admonishment.

'Hear your mother out Sherlock; she needs you to take on some work.'

This actually had him feeling curious so he'd let them in, following them upstairs before sticking the kettle on.

His father sat himself down on the settee and absent mindedly picked up the paper that Sherlock had left there; glancing through the headlines. Meanwhile his mother wandered around the front room sliding her finger across surfaces here and there and tutting.

'Your housekeeper's not really keeping on top of this place is she!'

For once Sherlock found himself defending Mrs Hudson. 'She's my landlady not my housekeeper.'

'Well maybe you need to get yourself a cleaner then. What about that girl I keep hearing about...what's her name...Molly, could she not clean for you?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he carried the tray of tea things into the front room and put them down on the coffee table. 'Mother, she's a doctor, I'm sure she has no need to earn a bit of money on the side and even if she did it wouldn't be as my cleaner.'

'Fair enough...well you need to sort something out. You can't keep on living like this. Mycroft has staff, maybe he could recommend someone.'

'Maybe...now what was this case you wanted me to take on?'

'Oh darling don't put it like that it makes it seem so...I don't know...bourgeois. It's just a favour for a family friend that's all really.'

'Fine...and this favour is?'

'Well, you know how Emily likes to have young people around her, she says it keeps her youthful.'

'An old fool more like,' interjected his father from behind his paper.

'Yes...well, she had a party at her house this weekend, just a select few no more than twenty. Anyway, she was persuaded to bring out the Jewel. You know the one I mean darling. Anyway, unbelievably it was stolen...can you believe it!'

Sherlock sniffed and recalled the yellow Indian diamond that Lady Kinestra was infamous for possessing. It had a very chequered history and she never formally admitted to owning it as the Indian government would want it returning as property that was stolen from their lands almost a hundred years ago. Now he knew why he had been called upon and not the police. If she went to Scotland Yard and they recovered it she'd still lose it in the long run. He suspected it wasn't insured for the same reason and his mother confirmed it.

'As I'm sure you can imagine she's beside herself. Johnnie, her husband, doesn't know yet and he'll be furious when he finds out. She's prepared to pay quite a reward should you get it back...though I told her you wouldn't be interested in the money. So what do you say? Would you do this for me? You know Emily and I go back decades and it would be such a kind thing to do.'

Sherlock wasn't sure that kind was the word he'd use especially when it came to that woman but the case did intrigue him. That diamond was worth a hundred thousand at least and in the closed up world of gemstones it was famous. Whoever had taken it had probably stolen it to order as it wasn't the kind of thing that could be sold on the open market.

He thought through what the best route into this case would be. It wouldn't do to be introduced by Lady Kinestra as he was too well known; the thief would be put on his guard. No, he needed to latch onto this group some other way.

He was brought back to the present by his father clicking his fingers in front of his face making him scowl at the interruption.

'...he was always like this as a child...you remember how it was..off in his own dream world. Oh, back with us now. So will you look into it?'

He batted his father's hand away and nodded his head. 'Yes, tell her I need a list of all those who were at the party even the hangers on and staff...plus, let her know if she meets me at an event not to let on that I know anything about this business. I'm just the son of an old friend who happens to be moving in the same circles. Can you do that?'

His mother smiled and nodded. 'We'll have her send the list this afternoon. She's quite the technophile you know...has an email account and everything. Baffles me...I just don't see the point of it; that and that bookface thing. Why people want to know the ins and outs of what you're eating and doing I'll never know.'

She glanced at her watch and started to stand. 'Oh look Sigur if we hurry we can catch Mikey in time for lunch. Come on...and Sherlock do take better care of yourself. You look like you've lost some weight since I last saw you and you were thin enough then. You're not going to get yourself a girlfriend if you don't take care of yourself or a boyfriend for that matter...you know your father and I are quite open minded about that kind of thing. Talking of which Emily's daughter is single again. Her marriage to that oil magnate was a disaster. We all knew it would be but the settlement she got...well, it will keep her in the style she's always been accustomed to. You could do worse Sherlock...'

Sherlock finally managed to shuffle them out of the flat and as he shut the front door behind them he sagged against it. God, his parents were insufferable. He acknowledged that he did love them but equally they drove him mad.

He took the stairs back to his room two at a time and opened up his laptop. He had a good idea where he could find out more information about the people Lady K had had at her house. The society pages would be full of them. He also knew that there was a chance he or Mycroft would know some of them which might just give him his way in. When his mum had said young people she had only meant young to her...these wouldn't be teenagers. They'd be thirties; those still single, those going through divorces, those in "open" relationships. He knew just the type and he hated them but it looked as though he was going to have to spend some time with them.

John would be no use to him in this crowd. Whilst they could probably pass as gay, which would give Sherlock some level of protection from those on the prowl for sex, John would just be at sea. He was far too down to earth for this set. He'd be baffled by them and totally uncomfortable in their company. Who then? Yes, he could go alone but he'd spend most of his time fending off the Cougars and the divorcees...he needed a girlfriend, someone reliable that he could count on.

There was only one person he could think of who ticked all the boxes...Molly Hooper. She was currently single so probably had little life to speak of. She'd do perfectly. They'd probably need to get physical occasionally to pull off the subterfuge but he wasn't adverse to that idea. She was attractive enough and in another life he would probably have...but this wasn't another life and he had no time for relationships.

But first he had to find his in with the group. He waited impatiently for the list to come through which it finally did just after 4.00pm. There were a few names on the list that he recognised but one in particular stood out and he leant back in his chair smiling. Well, well it had been a long time since he'd seen his old university friend and flat mate but it seemed it was time to get back in touch with Victor Trevor otherwise known as the Honourable Victor Trevor, youngest son of the Earl of Roeshire.

He texted Mycroft to see if he could find out some contact information for Victor and then spent the rest of the evening researching some of the other names on the list. It was like a who's who of the 1990's IT crowd and Sherlock felt his lip sneering in disdain. Most had no jobs and whilst there was some philanthropic charity work they were for the most part living off either their names or trust funds.

Victor at least had a job though it was in his father's stock brokering firm. They had a title but that hadn't meant they had much money which was why his father had had to go out and earn some himself. Thankfully he'd been quite good at it and was well on the way to restoring the families position in society; looked as though Victor was enjoying the spoils. Sherlock just needed to find a way to cross paths with his old friend and it shouldn't be too hard.

So, there's the set up. Hope you're in the mood for some fun and games and lots of slow burn Sherlolly. If so, let me know and I'll be back soon with the next instalment.