Catch Me If You Can
When Adelaide Holmes drops her books in the hallway, it is Eddie Watson who comes to her aid. It is an instant crush on both ends. There is no telling how this will end.
Prologue:
"Goodbye, John," Sherlock Holmes whispered into his cell phone, before tossing it next to Jim Moriarty's lifeless body. He spread his arms out wide and fell from the roof of St. Bart's Hospital. He was dead before he hit the ground.
Or was he?
After three days of hushed whispers, changes of clothes, and picking of locks, Molly Hooper helped smuggle the very much alive Sherlock Holmes out of the morgue and onto a plane headed for America. The plan was to stay there until all the buzz about his "death" died down, but the consulting detective found the plot twisting when he ran into Irene Adler on the corner of 42nd Street and 5th Avenue in New York City. He told her everything, and she took it all rather well. So well that she decided to return the favor. Within a month, Irene was able to pull a few strings and get them secret passage back into England without being noticed.
When they got back things had changed dramatically. They were not Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective and Irene Alder, part criminal, part dominatrix. They were Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, full-time husband and wife.
Chapter One
If there was one thing that everyone in Kensington Day School could agree on, it was that Adelaide Holmes was beautiful.
Adelaide Holmes was sixteen and attractive in a way that if anyone told her so, she would have laughed in their face, and asked them to tell her something that she didn't already know. She had her father's long, dark curls, which cascaded all the way down to the middle of her back, and icy blue eyes, veiled by a pair of Club Master glasses. Her skin was always blemish-free, her cheeks always slightly rosy. The only makeup she ever wore was a red lipstick, one of many. Her mother had always told her, "A good red lipstick, a wink, and a grin are any woman's keys to success."
She always carried herself with a sense of confidence. She walked lightly on the floors of her school, her hair billowing out from behind her, eyes focused forward. She always got where she needed to go without a word to or from anyone. If anyone ever said anything to her, her response was always the same. She would turn, shrug, give them a quick wink, and continue on her way. Adelaide Holmes was the perfect combination of mystery, modesty, and class.
It was rare that Adelaide was in a hurry. Today was one of those hurried days. She had promised to meet her father at a café in Belgravia at three-thirty sharp, and her father didn't wait for anyone. She was running through the hallway, simultaneously shrugging her messenger bag over her shoulder and tying her black scarf around her neck. In her arms were several textbooks: psychology, sociology, and anatomy. She turned the corner and was halfway to the door when she walked headfirst into the boy coming around the corner. She dropped the textbooks on her foot and the bag on his.
"Oh, my goodness, I am so terribly sorry-" she rambled on, haphazardly grabbing her bag and her anatomy textbook when she noticed the boy's outstretched hands holding her two other books. She took them.
"Thanks so much. I'm so sorry, this is so unlike me. I'm just in a huge rush and-" she took a breath and looked up. The boy was smiling.
"Be more careful next time. You never know who's coming in these halls," he said with a chuckle. There was nothing too special about this boy, but to Adelaide, he was the handsomest boy she had ever laid eyes on: average height, straight blond hair, gray eyes, broad shoulders, and very muscular. His smile faded when he looked in her eyes. His gaze made Adelaide's heart flutter.
"I know you. You're that girl everyone talks about. Adelaide, right?" he asked. She nodded, slightly taken aback.
"Yeah, that's me. I've never seen you around here before," she said casually. This was how she always played it with boys: start with something simple and build on it. This usually ended in the boy slipping his telephone number into her bag, which she usually threw away, as per her father's advice. "You don't need boys," he would say. "You're far too smart for any of them." She never knew whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.
"Yeah, my family and I just moved back to London. My dad has been doing a lot of medical work down in Africa and South America, and we've just moved back," he shrugged, clearly not too pleased about the move. Adelaide nodded.
"Well, welcome to Kensington Day. I'm afraid I must be going, I have an important appointment with my father, and he's a rather impatient man," she said, taking her books from the boy's arms. "Goodbye," she said before running off towards the door, leaving the boy alone.
Before she could forget, she turned around, curls flipping over her shoulder. "I don't believe I caught your name, new boy," she called. He turned around to face her.
"Eddie. Eddie Watson" he called back before giving a brief salute and taking off down the hallway.