Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. This is just a bit of fun. Rated M - for later chapters.
Ch. 1 - The American
"I need you to look after someone for me." Mycroft Holmes twirled the end of his umbrella as he looked at his little brother – unkempt in his pajamas and dressing gown and sitting in his usual chair legs crossed and with his usual air of disdain apparent.
"Do it yourself. Isn't that why you have safe houses sprawled around the country?"
"The lady in question is a special case. American. Privy to a wide variety of sensitive information."
"What sort of information?" John Watson turned around from the little table where he was writing up their last adventure.
"The sort we don't want falling into the wrong hands." Mycroft was as enigmatic as ever. He could tell that little brother wasn't impressed. He'd have to try and sweeten the deal.
"I'll even go so far to say that I'll owe you a favour if you do this, Sherlock."
Sherlock cocked his head and considered Mycroft for a moment before jumping from the chair and grabbing his violin turning his back to both John and Mycroft. He played the first verse of the Star Spangled Banner for a moment before going into one of his rants.
"Ugh! I can't stand Americans. Over confident, over weight rejects who think that just because they tossed some tea into the Boston Harbor that the world owes them a living. No, Mycroft, she cannot stay here."
"Sherlock!" Mycroft hissed.
"No!"
"Sherlock!" This time it was John that called his name.
A glance told him that John was uneasy so he turned around in annoyance. "What?"
A woman stood in the room with two bags across her shoulder and bags of shopping in each hand. From how Mycroft and John had just acted, Sherlock knew the woman must have heard his comment. But, no visible sign of offense could be gleaned from her face. In fact, she grinned slightly with one corner of her mouth.
"Sherlock, John, let me introduce Ava Greer to you."
A normal man would have quickly apologized for this faux pas, but this was Sherlock. He crossed the room with speed taking in all the information he could from her cataloging it in his mind as he went: 5 foot 6 inches tall, shoulder length curly brown hair, a glow to her skin, no make-up, plump but not obese, no recognizable perfume, but an aroma of vegetables – maybe from the shopping bags. Attired in basic moss green t-shirt and blue jeans. Why did Americans always where blue jeans? Boring in a nutshell. What could this little non-entity know that Mycroft would end up owing Sherlock a favour? Sherlock stopped himself. That mystery alone intrigued him. With no other case looming to engage his mind, this was enough to lure Sherlock in.
"Ok. You can stay." He almost went back to playing the violin, but turned back abruptly. "I hope you don't expect me to apologize." He recalled how he had to apologize constantly to Molly and Mrs. Hudson. Women expected men to apologize. And John. John expected him to apologize. He had a hard enough time of it with apologizing to people he secretly cared about. He wasn't in the mood to start apologizing to a new non-entity.
The woman grinned broadly. "You're a high functioning sociopath with delusions of British grandeur. Of course I don't expect an apology. Do you mind if I put these bags down?"
Sherlock slightly shocked chose to ignore her, but John jumped up. "I'll show you the kitchen."
She glided past Sherlock and followed John..
"I'll let you get settled in then." Mycroft rose to leave. Ava came back to the front room. They shook hands then Mycroft reached for his coat. Sherlock stared out of the window and pretended to compose. Even with their voices lowered, Sherlock heard their parting words.
"I know this can be done, Mycroft."
"I wished I shared your optimism, Ava.
"Give me time. I'll get the job done."
"I hope so. I'm taking a big risk."
"If you didn't trust me, you wouldn't have brought me here."
"True." With that, Mycroft left. Sherlock watched Ava return to the kitchen.
Sherlock allowed himself a smile. Maybe there was more to this American than he had thought before. Small dried green splatters on the back of her right forearm. Definitely something of interest.