Chapter 1: Seeing You Again
I hate him, I absolutely hate him. Yes, I used to love him like family, but this. This is what he becomes? I can't believe how cold he was. We use to be close friends, considered each other as family. He was like this before, but it has become a million times worse. I doubt he even knows why he upset me. You're probably wondering who I am talking about, and why he pissed me off as he did. Well, I am talking about the all-mighty, lovable Sherlock Holmes. You saw the sarcasm right?
Today started out a good day, everything was fine. Everything was dandy. I had just moved here with my husband-to-be a day ago. We found a nice affordable flat and some nice things to put in it. To top it all off, we have a very nice land lady.
I smiled to myself as I thought about how great it was to be in London again. It's nice to come back to the place that you grew up in. I didn't expect to have everything go smoothly like this. I looked around the street I was on, looking for a cafe to stop by in. It was noon, and I was starving. I skipped out on breakfast, hoping to get an early start on job-hunting. My fiance had a job waiting for him when he came, so he was in the flat painting our bathroom a new color. My brown eyes looked around curiously until they landed on this nice little sandwich cafe across the street. I pulled out my cell phone as my feet started heading in that direction. Once I got across the street, I stood beside the cafe and put my cell in front of my face. I was sending a text to my fiance to let him know I was getting lunch, and I was asking if he'd like me to bring anything home.
Hey. I am currently on Baker Street, and there is this really nice sandwich shop. I'm picking up lunch, do you want anything?
xxLiz
I started looking at some of the people going around, and they all seemed reverently normal. We only live a couple blocks away, so we don't need anyone to come and kill us in our sleep Oh that would be SO horrible. I smirked at my sarcastic thoughts until my phone buzzed in my hand.
If only you had warned me a couple of minutes ago, sweetie. I already fixed myself something from the scraps we own. I hope you're having luck on the job hunting. Love you.
–JLC
I put my phone back in my shoulder bag and headed into the sandwich shop. I quickly gazed over the couple of people that were occupying the small shop. I went up to the counter and ordered my sandwich, which I got to watch the nice older man make. After paying for it, I quickly said my thanks and sat down by the window. Munching down on my food, I was glancing around until my eyes locked onto a taxi that pulled up outside. Out came two males. One was on the shorter side with blonde hair, and the other looked strangely familiar. He wore a black coat, and he had had brown curly hair. He looks like an older version of Sherlock. I laughed to myself; I hadn't seen him since my teenage years.
I stopped laughing and started to think about it. I watched them until they disappeared next door. I was now very curious, and being myself; I had to see if it was him. I've missed him. A couple minutes later, my nerves were on edge. Maybe it was him, and when would I have another chance to meet up with a long lost friend? I stood up and threw the rest of my sandwich in a bin. Smiling and throwing a wave behind me at the elderly man, I walked out of the cafe. I headed right next door, and before me was the letters 221B. I glanced both ways and sucked in a breath. What will he think about me? Has he missed me? We used to be like family… Balling up one of my fists, I knocked on the closed door. Waiting a couple minutes, I raised my hand to knock again, but it was pulled wide open. I gasped at the sudden appearance of another. It was a short older woman, who looked very sweet.
"Hello dear. How can I help you?" She smiled at me.
I looked behind myself and then back to her smiling face. "Uhm…By any chance does a Sherlock Holmes live here?"
The woman ushered me into the hallway and pointed up the stairs, "Right up there sweetie. I'll bring up some the tea. Are you a client? Oh silly me, you must be. Why else would you be here Oh and, I'm Mrs. Hudson?" Before I could correct her on why I was here and introduce myself, she had disappeared into another room. I started to climb up the stairs, and my thoughts were in a mess. Client? I'm not a client? What kind of work does Sherlock do? She seems nice though…
I stopped in front of the door she had pointed out and knocked. Hearing a muffled 'Come in' from somewhere inside, my sweaty palm gripped the door knob. How much has he changed? I haven't changed that much.
I opened the door to a very messy flat, papers were scattered everywhere. My eyes were racing around until they landed on the blonde I seen outside. He came up to me and started speaking before I could even say hello. He stuck out a hand, which I politely took. "Hello, you must be a client. I'm John Watson." He pulled his hand from me and turned, "SHERLOCK! He should be out of his room in a couple minutes." He smiled at me, and I nodded. I need to correct him before Sherlock comes out. "I'm not a client. I'm an old friend of Sherlock's." John seemed to give me a weird look when I said that, and I wondered why.
Sherlock came from one of the rooms and stared at me. His eyes squinted before his face went back to a neutral expression. I walked forward and smiled at him, "Hey Sherlock! Miss me? I've missed you. I'm back in London to stay. Told you I would come back!" I was very excited to see him, but my good spirits quickly fell.
Sherlock's gaze seemed to turn cold as he seemed to analyze me. He opened his mouth, and out of the corner of my eye I saw John roll his eyes; I swear I heard him mumble, "Oh god, Sherlock. Not again."
My confused eyes glanced back to the man before me, as he started to speak. "Oh, Short, stubby Lizabeth how could I forget you? You've changed since then though, haven't you? You're obviously about to get married, to an absolutely boring, horrible man. You still don't really care about your appearance. Dead ends, sloppy clothes, chipped fingernail paint. Pray tell me, how on earth do you expect to get a job like that? Your trip from America how was that? Good apparently, cause you seem too happy to be here. Your time in America has obviously rubbed off on you, hearing that awful tone in your words. Your past in America seems difficult. What, did your mummy and daddy force you into things you didn't want to be in? Maybe I shouldn't mention them, seeing how they're dead. By your facial expression, you're still not over it and it was probably a most horrible death for you to be sad about it. Why else would you be sad about them dying when they beat you. I could go on and on, but why would I spend that much time on the likes of you? Oh you thought I cared? I was simply forced to have you as a neighbor growing up, and news flash Lizzie, I don't care about you or anyone else for that matter. Oh I forgot my manners, Welcome to London." He had said it all in such a mocking tone that my brain was still running through everything he had just said.
My smile disappeared a long time ago, and I pushed my shocked, sad expression from my face to be replaced with a slightly angry one. I didn't want to make a scene or do anything dramatic, so I settled with a couple calm words, "Yeah welcome to London. Saying you don't care is a lie, seeing as how upset you were when I had to leave. My fiance is an absolutely wonderful man, and he is much better a man then you will ever be." My eyes were fierce now, but I have a hold on my temper now. I looked to John who had an apologetic look on his face, mixed with anger at his flat mate. "It was nice meeting you John; please apologize to Mrs. Hudson for me. I'm not staying for tea."
With the few words to John I turned and started towards the door. I paused when I got there, "Sherlock, could you please tell Mycroft that I'm back in town. I'd like to see him again." With my back still facing him, I headed back out to the street. It's only half past noon, and I'm already fed up for the day. I'm going home. Forget about job hunting for the day. I didn't feel like walking, so I hailed a taxi. It wasn't until I slumped down in my seat, and told the man my address that I felt the emotions inside of me. Tears came to my eyes, but I refused to cry over it. Crying gets you nowhere. Why did he say those things? Why was he so angry at me? He didn't look like he was, but why else would he try to hurt me like that.
Paying the taxi driver and heading up to my flat, I smiled. There was always one man who can make me happy. I open the door to my flat, "Jared, I'm home," Seeing him round the corner I was automatically happy, "I got fed up with the day, so I came on home. I'll be back out there tomorrow though." He came closer and kissed my forehead tenderly before he threw me over his shoulders and ran to another room. Laughing all the way, I saw what he did to the bath room. Once we were in the bathroom, he sat me down on the toilet, and he splashed blue paint on my nose. Giggling, I hugged him and wiped it off on his chest. He doesn't even have to say words to make me happy again.
"What the hell Sherlock?" John looked at his flat mate with stunned eyes. Sherlock just turned away and looked out the window. "That's how you treat childhood friends? God and you wonder why you don't have many friends. If you want to keep her as your friend, you better apologize. I don't even have words to tell you how, just how mean you were. I'm not going to sit here and tell you your wrongs. Hopefully you'll feel guilty on your own." Huffing John grabbed his coat and headed towards the door.
Sherlock quickly turned and looked at John, "Where are you going?" John sighed, "You may not know this, but some of us have to go to work." Sherlock stared as the door closed. He watched John leave from the window before going straight towards his desk. He picked up his phone and sent a quick text to Mycroft.
I probably don't need to inform you, but she's back in town.
SH
A/N: Should I continue this? It kind of just popped into my head.