A/n: I must admit that this is the first story I actually have thought through and made a proper plot for. I haven't written fanfics for a while now, so this is my attempt to get back in the game of writing romance(with a dash of adventure and detective work!). I really hope that you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
P.S. Please forgive me my writing mistakes, I'm not very good at writing in English.
P.P.S. Even though the description says that this story is about solving three cases, there will be more, a bit less important cases.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. Yet.
"Sherlock?" John called from the kitchen, trying very hard to keep his voice calm, "why the hell is there an eye on the table?"
Sherlock stepped in the kitchen and glanced at the oven for a moment, before giving John a curt answer, "Testing an hypothesis of mine." He went to the fridge, opened it and pinched the cheek of the head that sat there. It was the second one he'd managed to get from Barts, this time he was focusing on the teeth. "Oh, and don't open the corner cupboard, i put my tongue collection there, it needs to stay in the dark."
John let out a disgusted sigh, not even bothered to ask about what other human parts were hidden in the kitchen and went to the living room to find his phone, chinese food seemed like the only option for having normal dinner that didn't have human parts in it. Sherlock stayed behind, taking out the head and starting to examine the insides of his mouth.
John decided to watch the telly until the food arrived, but was interrupted by the sound of their doorbell.
"I'll get it." he muttered, and got up from the armchair he'd already gotten comfortable in. He walked down the stairs and opened the front door, only to be greeted by the brisk autumn wind that was whistling outside.
John looked around, but didn't see anyone nearby, so he started to close the door. But before he managed to do it, he noticed a small package on the doorstep. It was tied up with a bright red ribbon and the label on it declared that the pack was meant for Sherlock Holmes. Wondering who might have put that behind their door, John picked it up and took it inside the flat.
"Sherlock, there's a pack for you." He said, entering the kitchen and placing the delivery on the table. Sherlock lifted his eyes from the head, which was starting to look even worse than before, and took the package in his hands.
"Who do you think sent it?" John asked, standing behind Sherlock and looking at the pack with interest.
"A woman. In her late twenties, seems to be rather wealthy and owns a black cat. Wanted to impress me, not sure why." Sherlock said, inspecting every angle of the pack before opening it and revealing an old book with a small golden dragon on it's cover and a neatly folded note.
Sherlock took out the note first, unfolded it and read it through. Then he let out a heavy sigh, stood up, got his lighter from the other side of the table and burned the letter to ashes. After placing the lighter back he sat back in the chair he'd occupied earlier.
"What was all that about?" John asked, looking at Sherlock with raised eyebrows. But before Sherlock got to open his mouth, the doorbell rang.
"That must be your Chinese." he noted and turned back to the head, his mind racing, trying to figure out what to do next. The message had held some useful information, which would make the word 'bored' disappear for at least a year. He poked the eye of the head absent-mindedly, until John returned with his food.
"Are you going to tell me what the note said or is it better for me not to ask?" He asked, sitting down in his armchair.
"The latter." Sherlock said, grabbed the book and went to his bedroom.
Sherlock didn't come out of his bedroom until the morning and when he did, John was already awake, eating his breakfast in the living room. "Morning." John said, taking a sip from his coffee. Sherlock nodded as a response and went in the kitchen, the blue dressing gown flowing behind him.
Three minutes later he emerged from the kitchen, holding a cup of tea and a newspaper. He set the cuppa on the coffe table and sat himself on the sofa, flicking through the paper, very aware of John's gaze on him. "So, are you still not show-" John started, but was cut off, "No. The note was only meant for my eyes."
John carried on eating until another question crossed his mind. "OK, but there was a book. What was it about?"
Sherlock let out a heavy sigh and lowered the newspaper. "It was a children's book, John. Something about..." he paused, thinking about the funny creature the book had been about. "Hobbits. I read some pages of it and it was rather boring, set in some sort of fictional world. It features dragons, dwarves, elves and even more abnormal creatures. It was not interesting nor had it any clues to why it was sent to me." he said, talking even faster than normally, receiving John's attention with it. He was sure there was more behind that book.
"But you know who sent it to you." he said, raising an eyebrow. Sherlock raised the newspaper again, hiding his face. "Unfortunately yes, I do know who sent the note. In fact, she is supposed to arrive here in about ten minutes." he said, flicking through the paper, annoyed about the lack of murders.
"What? Is she a client?" John asked, taking the last bite and taking the dishes to the kitchen. "No. She is worse than a client." Sherlock replied, throwing the now useless newspaper under the coffee table.
"What is she then?" John came out of the kitchen, drying his hands in the kitchen towel.
"Early, apparently." Sherlock said, the sound of the doorbell finishing his sentence. He got up from the sofa and wanted to go downstairs, but stopped as soon as he remembered that he was still in his pajamas. He changed the route immediately and went to his bedroom, telling John to go invite her in.
John walked downstairs and saw mrs. Hudson already opening the door. A tall woman with raven black hair stood behind it, giving mrs. Hudson a wide smile. "Hello. Is Sherlock around?"
"Oh, yes, come in, Shelock is upstairs." mrs. Hudson said, stepping aside so the woman could walk in. As soon as she'd gotten in with her suit case, she noticed John standing on the staircase.
"Oh, hello!" She greeted and offered John her hand, which was accepted after a moment's hesitance. "John Watson? John nodded, "Yes, that's me, nice to meet you,-?" he paused, remembering that he didn't know her name.
"Athena. Athena Stark. Lovely to meet you, too." the woman smiled, her dark brown eyes filled with happiness. "Now, where is my favourite consulting asshole?"
John looked at Athena for a moment, not sure if he'd heard right. "Er, Sherlock is upstairs, i think he was expecting you." he said, still not sure whether or not the woman had just called Sherlock a 'consulting asshole'.
"Great! Ah, I had the worst trip ever today, the traffic really is horrible on Mondays." She said while walking up the stairs behind John, trying to diffuse the tension.
"So where did you come from?" he asked in response, looking at Athena over his shoulder. "Poland."
"She is lying, John. She came from Norwich." Sherlock shouted from his bedroom. "Your ears are as good as always, I see." Athena laughed and turned to John "Needed to check if he heard us." She whispered. "He tends to listen to other people's conversations and use the information against them. Not his best habit, I must admit, but at least he doesn't do blackmail."
"Yeah, I've noticed that." John agreed, "Um, would you like some tea?"
"Oh, yes please." Athena smiled, watching John disappear into the kitchen. She stood still in front of the fireplace until her phone buzzed. She digged the device out of the depths of her purse and saw that there was one new text.
"Come here right now. -SH"
She rolled her eyes, sent a friendly smile to John, who was currently waiting for the water to boil, and walked into Sherlock's bedroom. Sherlock was standing in front of the window, hands together behind his back.
Athena sat in the chair that was set next to the bed, waiting for Sherlock to speak. There was silence for a long minute, and Athena closed her eyes, enjoying every second of it. It was comfortable silence, and neither of them wanted to break it. But there were some important matters to discuss.
"Why now?" Sherlock asked, not turning his eyes from the window.
Athena's eyes flicked open, "I need your help, Sherlock." She said and stood up. She walked up next to Sherlock. "I have three cases for you. One worse than the other." She examined Sherlock's face, trying to understand what he was thinking about. His face was blank and there was no way to tell what he was thinking about.
"Will you accept the cases?" Athena finally asked, hope in her voice.
Sherlock finally turned his eyes from the window, looking at her for the first time.
"Yes."
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