Author's Note: Short Victorian AU inspired by The Abominable Bride.


Ghosts

Natasha turned away from the the gentle pattering of London rain when the soft rustle of Sherlock's dressing gown reached her ears. There'd been nothing but silence bouncing off the walls of 221B since he'd taken to his chair, hands as if in prayer pressed to his mouth.

She checked the clock. Well over two hours had gone by since then. She'd caught him in the middle of a case when she'd arrived the day before, planning to stay for a fortnight. He assured her he'd be done in a couple of days. An unspoken promise of uninterrupted time together.

Sherlock flicked his eyes her way when she eyed the gun in his hand, leveling it at the papered wall. Natasha arched a brow. "Stealing my guns now, are you?"

"I'm sure you can afford to lose one," he said smoothly. "You have more than you need for a two week visit. I verified."

"You went through my things too?" Sherlock fired and Natasha darted her eyes towards the wall. "You do like to live dangerously."

"I share a bed with you don't I?" Sherlock winked and brought the gun closer for inspection. "This isn't a standard model. It's custom made. Where did you get it?"

"Courtesy of my new employer." Natasha rose from her perch and wandered over to wrap her arms around his waist beneath his dressing gown. He lowered the gun to his side, using his free arm around to pull her closer. Her lips curved in a smile. "Keep it. I've got a spare."

"In exchange for what? I know you." Sherlock loosened his hold to bury a hand in her hair, twirling the blonde strands between his fingers. His eyes never left her face, and she knew he remembered a darker time when her hair was a different color. A darker time for both. We all have a past.

She closed her eyes. "Solving the case in half the time?"

His lips lifted at the corners and he leaned in to brush them against hers.

"And what will we do for the remainder of your visit?"

"I've got a few ideas," she whispered.

Sherlock tipped her head back for a kiss, voice a low rumble. "You've got yourself a deal."