So, I've been working on this fic for the past few months, and I figured it was about time I posted it. It may seem similar to my Hellboy fic (I still need to work on that one, my apologies) but, I think this one's coming together nicely. Enjoy!
Mrs. Hudson slowly made her way up steps, being careful not to spill the items on the tea tray in her hands. It was mid afternoon on this cold winter's day, and she figured the man in the upstairs flat would like a cup of tea.
After climbing up the last few steps, the older woman walked through the open doorway of the flat.
The tall, lean, and familiar figure of Sherlock Holmes was pacing about the sitting room. His pale emerald eyes were far away, deep in thought. He picked up his violin and bow as he passed his chair, plucking at the strings a few times.
Mrs. Hudson made her way to the kitchen table and nearly dropped her tea tray as Sherlock drew his bow sharply over the neck of his instrument, a measure of abrupt and harsh notes spewing out.
"Sherlock! My goodness, why don't you play something a bit more pleasant, dear?" She exclaimed, carefully setting down the tray and walking back into the sitting room.
Sherlock twirled his bow and removed his violin from his shoulder.
"Not a single case...in two weeks..." He muttered. His face expressionless as he turned and faced the older woman.
Mrs. Hudson blinked and was about to say something, but Sherlock continued.
"How is this possible? How is it there hasn't been at least single murder in two weeks? Why hasn't anything happened?!"
His navy blue night robe swished about his legs as he began to pace once more, abandoning his violin on the chair.
Mrs. Hudson sighed. Sherlock without a case was a sad sight to see. The consulting detective became edgy and his temper shortened tremendously when he didn't have something to challenge his wits.
She watched as Sherlock suddenly stopped in his tracks, pausing, face scrunched in though then his gaze flitted about the room. He turned in a small circle, his eyes searching for something. He strode over to the kitchen, then back down the hallway.
"Sherlock, what is it? Did you loose something, love?" Mrs. Hudson asked as the man walked past her back into the sitting room.
"Where's John? He's not here. He was supposed to be back from Tesco's by now..." The man briefly glanced out the window then turned around and stood for a moment in thought.
"Oh! That's right, I got a text message from him earlier" Mrs. Hudson replied, bringing her phone out of her cardigan pocket. "Interesting, these text messages are...I only got this mobile last week and I'm still trying to figure out how it all works! Why, back in my day, I remember you had to-"
"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock curtly cut her off from rambling.
The elderly woman blinked a few times, glancing at her mobile before clearing her throat and continuing.
"W-Well, he said he had go take care of something urgent, but not to worry because he'd be back around-"
The door downstairs opened, then closed. The sound of footfalls coming up the steps soon echoed through the stairway. After a few moments, a tired looking man wearing a woolen sweater and tan trousers reached the top of the steps.
"Oh there you are John! Is everything alright?" Mrs. Hudson chimed, her face showing a look of pure concern and curiosity.
John gave her a small smile and nodded, then turned to look at Sherlock, who was intently staring back at the blogger.
"John, where did you go? And why didn't you send me a text?" Sherlock took a step closer to his flatmate, his steely eyes focused and piercing.
John sighed. "Sherlock, you hardly use your mobile to begin with and-"
"And what was so urgent that you had to be gone an extra three hours?"
"Sherlock, I had to-"
"And did you even bother getting the milk? You did remember to go to the store right? You're always getting at me for not-"
"SHERLOCK!" John's sleepy brown eyes sharpened with his outburst.
The taller man stopped and straightened, slightly surprised at his flat mate's shout.
John sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, then he went on to explain.
"I got a call from my sister..."
Sherlock's dark brows came together as his head tilted slightly to the left.
"Your sister called? What on earth for? You two haven't been in contact for years." The man's voice trailed off, his pale emerald eyes searching.
John swallowed, glancing down at the floor, then back up at Sherlock.
"Well..."
Just then, Sherlock's attention was drawn to John's right pant leg, just at the knee. A flicker of movement had caught his gaze. He bent down so he was more eye level with it.
There was a tiny hand curled around the man's jeans.
John noticed Sherlock's new switch in focus. He sighed.
"Sherlock...there's someone I'd like you to meet..." He took a small side step, revealing the presence of small child standing behind him.
Now Sherlock's brow knitted even tighter in further confusion.
The girl looked up at the tall man with wide, silvery blue eyes. She moved closer to John, almost instinctively. Her gaze swept through the room, to Mrs. Hudson, to John, then back to Sherlock.
"This...is Lydia..." John began softly, glancing down at the girl clinging to his pant leg. He placed a hand a top of her golden curls.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he studied the girl. Lydia cast her gaze away from the consulting detective after a few moments of being under his intense stare. She shyly shuffled her feet.
"She's uh..." John cleared his throat. "She's my niece..."
Sherlock's gaze shot back to John. "You're what?"
"Oh John dear, I didn't know you had a niece! And what a pretty little thing she is!" gushed Mrs. Hudson, smiling brightly at Lydia.
"I didn't know either..." John muttered.
Sherlock said nothing, returning his focus back to Lydia. He had the concentrated look that he got when he studied others and made deductions.
"I'll explain everything later, but...she'll be staying with us for the next two weeks Sherlock..." John watched Sherlock carefully, not exactly sure how his flatmate would react exactly.
"What?! Why?!" Sherlock threw John a glare, straightening up so he towered over his colleague.
"I told you, I'll explain everything later, but right now she-"
The gurgling sound of an empty stomach rumbled.
The room became silent for a brief moment.
Lydia's face began to glow pink as she looked down at the floor, clutching her middle.
"She hasn't had lunch..." explained John, casting a side glance at Mrs. Hudson.
"Oh the poor dear's hungry!" piped up Mrs. Hudson, taking her cue as she walked up to Lydia and held out her wrinkled hand. "Come on dearie, let's find you something to eat!"
Lydia tentatively took the landlady's hand, and the two made their way to the kitchen.
John and Sherlock watched the pair, then John turned to face his flatmate. He pursed his his lips as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Why on earth is a child going to be staying with us?" Sherlock shot first, his voice dripping with annoyance.
John sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Not now Sherlock...I'm still trying to wrap my head around this myself..."
Sherlock glanced back in the direction of the kitchen, he could hear Mrs. Hudson talking sweetly to the young girl. He looked back at John. His friend's eyes were a bit unfocused, his shoulders sagged, and he kept taking deep breaths...obviously the man was exhausted.
"Please Sherlock, I'll explain but right now...just..." John trailed off.
Sherlock studied his friend for a few more moments then huffed a sigh.
"Fine...but don't expect me to babysit..." He murmured, then turned and strode over to his chair.
He picked up his violin, plucked a few notes, then brought the instrument to his shoulder. He then let the bow slide over the strings as he stared out the window.
He could hear the slow thuds of John's footsteps make their way into the kitchen to join Mrs. Hudson and Lydia. The older woman asked introductory questions; where Lydia was from, how old she was, but Lydia stayed silent. Sherlock quickly lost interest in the dabble as he began to ponder why the young girl was here at his flat, and if this meant he'd have to childproof the whole place so she wouldn't get into his experiments.
He sighed, continuing his violin playing.
Please rate/review! It's greatly appreciated!