COMPLETED
This story was based of several different picture found off Tumblr. Story is set in the 1970s
Preface
Anya was walking through the streets in London carrying a pile of books. "I am so sorry," She said in her English accent. Anya began picking up the books after walking into the stranger. The man she had walked into bent down and helped her.
"It wasn't your fault," He said.
"It kind of was," She replied, standing up.
"No, it wasn't," The man replied. "The person who gave you these books, clearly gave them to you because he wanted to make you late home because of an argument the pair of you had recently," He explained. Anya looked at his face. He was pale with ghostly blue eyes, and black curly hair.
"Sherlock Holmes," He introduced himself.
"Anya Kovalev," She replied with a smile. Sherlock still had half of the books.
"Where are these going to?" Sherlock asked. By the time they had arrived at Anya's flat, the landlord was waiting by the door.
"Here's the money and your stuff," He said simply, handing her the few possessions she had. He slammed the door shut and left no room for an argument.
"Anya, you can stay in my apartment until you can find yourself a place to stay," Sherlock offered. Anya just nodded. One payment is all she had missed. Anya thanked him and the pair walked to Sherlock's flat talking about what they do for a living. Sherlock – Anya found out – was a consulting detective who had been on his way home from a crime scene.
Sherlock and Anya entered the flat. "Just put the books anywhere," Sherlock said.
"You didn't have to do this," Anya announced. Sherlock looked her up and down.
"Yes I did," He replied. "You're a bright girl who lost both of your parents at an early age, for whatever reason, and as a result of this, you never had any adventures growing up on Asgard so you moved her in hope of having at least one however that hope failed," Sherlock deduced. "So, yes I was being sympathetic," He added. Anya stood there.
"Well done," She replied. "I have never had an adventure, but you have, you have had all the adventures I have dreamt of," Anya deduced back. "And got into trouble a lot because of them," She added. There was a knock on the door and a woman walked into the flat as Anya sat down.
"Have you solved it?" The woman spat. Sherlock turned around.
"Honestly, no, I am close," Sherlock admitted. "It couldn't have been your brother and his dog because as you said he was in Edinburgh," He added. "And if you keep bothering me to see if I have solved it, it will never be solved," Sherlock warned.
"Then solve it, Holmes." And with that the woman left.
Anya and Sherlock stayed in the flat for the night making deductions about each other. Eventually Sherlock deduced that Anya was extremely tired and then admitted that he was also tired. "I only have the one bed," He announced.
"So, we can share," Anya told him causing Sherlock to smile. He wasn't smiling at the fact she was willing to share a bed with a man she had just met, it was the fact that clearly she was good at defending herself. Well she had to be if she had lived on the streets of Asgard all her life only to come here and to be in a similar predicament.
That night the shared a bed but Sherlock was woken once when Anya called out. "Anya," He said, softly. He put a hand on her arm. "Anya," He repeated, louder which woke her up. "Are you alright?" He asked. Anya just nodded. "Really?" He asked. Anya shook her head as Sherlock sat up. "What's wrong?" Sherlock asked. He genuinely meant it. He had always met people who had been hurt in some way but Anya was permanently damaged by the one thing she could fix or replace. Her past.
"It's like you deduced before," Anya whispered. "I lost my parents at an early age," She said. "But I lost them because of demons," She explained. Sherlock looked at her. "My parents hunted monsters," She explained quietly. Sherlock had always found the ideas of monsters fun but when someone told him they were real he wouldn't have believed them. But Anya had clearly seen them for herself and this must have been one of the many things that damaged her. Sherlock deduced that she often had nightmares and often cried herself to sleep for this exact reason.
Sherlock pulled Anya into a hug. "Could you sing?" Anya asked, through tears. Sherlock thought of a song. He was a Timelord so he knew the perfect one. So he sang Keep Holding On, until Anya had finished crying and eventually she fell back to sleep. Sherlock would normally wake up at this time so he decided to watch Anya.
He didn't know what it was. He didn't know if it was her brown hair and her beautiful name or whether it was her feisty yet sweet personality. Or her complicated past that was so difficult to deduce. But there was defiantly something about this Asgardian woman that had caught Sherlock's attention.
Reviews are welcome.