Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
I sat upside down in a couch that Mycroft clearly never used. His mouth was moving, but God help my ADD I wasn't even kind of listening. The lines between his eyes were scrunching closer and closer together. I wrinkled my nose at him.
"Jayden, are you even listening?" He demanded.
"My dear cousin, if you eyes narrow anymore your eyebrows will become an eyebrow." I rolled myself onto my stomach and did a small tuck and roll off the leather couch. I landed spread eagle on the ground. Mycroft rolled his eyes.
"You are eighteen," He said shortly, "quit acting like a wild child."
" 'Merica." I responded.
I hadn't asked to come to London. My mother thought I needed a little time away from the crime and horrors of Chicago. She had tried some family members who lived closer to home, but my reputation proceeded me, and no one wanted to put up with Jayden Grace Holmes. As Mycroft was poliete enough to point out seven…now eight times, he had be gracious enough to say yes. I found the man to be overly dull.
"I'm going to run an errand. Can I trust you to beheave well I'm gone?"
"You can trust me as much as you want, but I would advise you against it." I smiled the famous Holmes smile at him. I didn't look anything like Mycroft, but if I remembered him correctly my cousin Sherlock look kind of like me. Same color hair, same cheek bones, same thin body type, and the same ears that stuck just a little too far out.
He stomped his foot like a spoiled kid, and slammed the door behind him. I smiled, I loved nothing more than getting under people's skin. Especially people who thought they were better than others.
I counted the footsteps until there was nothing, but silence. I pushed myself off the carpet, and stood on my hands for a few seconds before letting myself drop. Just to practice.
I was an unusual girl who was obessed with bookbags and carried around a man's wallet. There wasn't a dollar in it, just a bunch of pictures.
I walked across Mycroft's floor to the window that was left open to invite in the summer breeze. I peered out of it curiously. It was only a floor in the air. I swung my legs out and dangled them for a second. Mom had been insistant that when I arrived in London I would have no contact with my cousin Sherlock.
As a serial rule breaker my instincts over took my better judgement and I hopped down from the window. I barely managed to catch myself at the last second. I rolled painfully at the feet of a complete stranger. The look of shock on his face was enough to make me laugh aloud.
"Are you okay Miss?" He asked instantly concerned.
"No sir." I put on a teary face, "Do you have a cell phone I could borrow please?"
He pulled out a sleak black smart phone and handed it to me. I smiled gratefully, and typed my cousins name in the google bar. Several hits came up, but I had to scroll for a while before I found what I was looking for. I hit end.
"Thanks so much." I threw the phone back to the confused looking man.
"But…But…"
I was already a block away. 221 B Baker Street. I kept repeating it over and over in my head. I didn't know what I'd do when I finally saw him. I just wanted to know what all the fuss was about my genius cousin who was too dangerous to get involved with. The rain was starting to pick up.
That was the one thing I missed most about America. Its dryness.
It took me half an hour's walk to get to 221 B Baker Street. I stared at the small sandwhich shop in front of the building that was currently closed. There was a rusty old fire escape on the side of the building, but it looked so sketchy even I didn't dare try it. Instead I knocked on the front door.
A friendly looking old lady opened the door. I blinked several times. The woman was shorter than me, maybe about five feet or so. She had clearly dyed hair, and bright blue eyes. She greeted me warmly.
"Sorry to bother you ma'am. I was looking for Sherlock Holmes. I must have the wrong…"
The woman sighed heavily and stepped a side so I could come in. She turned her head and hollered up the stairs so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Boys! Another one for you!" Her voice screeched through the hall.
A short blonde haired man strolled down the stairs rolling his eyes. He smiled at me kindly. "I'm terribly sorry. My roommate is BEING DIFFICULT." He shouted. "He says he won't see anything less interesting than a seven. Whatever that means." He smiled once more. His blue eyes were apologetic.
I shrugged nonchalantly. It looked like I was going to have to take the fire escape after all. I shook hands with the kind man and thanked the elderly woman polietely. I was difficult, not a bitch.
I scoped the fire escape carefully. I pulled the rusty ladder down slowly. It creeked loudly, I hoisted myself up carefully. I walked on the balls of my feet catiously, the last thing I wanted to do was fall and break my neck. I peeked into an open window.
A man with dark brown hair and ice blue eyes sat lazily upside down on a couch. His eyes were staring at his ceiling, a violin rested in his hands in an akward angel. I crawled through the open window.
He didn't even look up. "I'm assuming you are the lady caller John was insisting I go see."
"Good guess."
"I never guess."
"Me either."
He observed me closely, I could tell he was figuring me out pretty easily. He rolled off the couch. "Why do you have a man's wallet?"
"Why haven't you slept in three days?" I countered, noting the circles under his eyes and his untrimed beard, plus he smelled kind of funny.
"Four."
"Close enough." I gave him a small smile.
"If you're an idiot." He said without emotion.
"Oh go change your four day old socks."
I leaned against the wall, which for whatever reason was filled with bullet holes. We were surveying each other closely. The last memory I had of my cousin was of us playing "Clue" and him getting so angry at Mycroft he punched him in the nose. What a Thanksgiving that had been.
"I still think you're being a stuck up pri…" The blonde haired man from beforea came into the room shaking his head. When he saw me he stopped in his tracks.
"Hiya." I smiled.
The man opened and closed his mouth several times before answering. "Hi…I'm…I'm John Watson."
"Jade, Jade Holmes."
Sherlock's face was stony, but his eyes showed a slight amount of surprise. John Watson's jaw dropped. "Are you two…how are…?"
"He stutters a lot, doesn't he?" I laughed.
"Their cousins." A cold voice said from behind Watson. Mycroft stepped around Watson slowly.
"I thought I told you to stay home." He demanded.
"No you asked if you could trust me. I advised you against and you didn't listen."
A small smile finally played over Sherlock's face.
"Yes well, I won't make that mistake again I assure you." He said coldly.
I took a step forward and stared into his cold brown eyes. I looked from Sherlock, to Watson, to Mycroft, and said what any Holmes would have.
"Brilliant."