He wasn't quite sure why he'd extended the invitation.
They had made small, polite conversation after finishing their breakfast in mostly silence. They had been up all night working on the case after all. This one had been a particularly trying case which Sherlock had tackled with more vigour and determination than he had any case in a long time. He had solved and concluded the case of the disappearance (and subsequent murder) of his client's sister, yet had decided upon tea and a breakfast in the cafe next door for some reason. As they'd said their goodbyes in Speedy's cafe, and she'd tearfully thanked him for finally giving her the answers she'd been looking for - but never really wanted to hear - Sherlock couldn't help but feel a tug at his stiff and rarely used heart strings. She looked so sad. Where would she go now? Who did she have left? Would she go home and be on her own and just cry?
Stop it, Sherlock. Get a grip. You've never given a second thought to a client before, let alone taken them out for breakfast. Let her leave, and you should just go home.
She gathered up her coat and bag, refused his offer to pay, and after a brief dig around in her bag, pulled out a five pound note and left it on the table.
"Thank you, Mr Holmes. Really, thank you. I just - I can't handle the thought that I'll never see my sister again. I'll always be thankful to you, and to John as well. Tell him, would you?"
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second before pulling on her purple beanie hat and tucking in her chair. She gave Sherlock a weak smile and half a wave and made for the door.
I can't just let her leave.
She was a few paces away now, and nearly at the door.
"Melissa, stop, wait." He called across the cafe. She turned back at the sound of her name - he'd never called her by her name before.
She waited, hand on the door handle, and looked on as Sherlock also left a five pound note on the table, whipped up his coat and headed towards her.
"I just-" He began, not entirely sure what to say. "Uh - look, I really am sorry about your sister. I can see it's affected you deeply, and - rather unusually for myself - I hate to be the bearer of this particular bad news. I hope you don't mind me asking, but where will you go now?"
She paused, and dropped her hand from the door handle to pull off her hat and ruffle her short hair before putting her hat back on. "Um. I don't know really. Haven't given it too much thought I guess. I've just kind of been in such a daze, what with everything that's gone on. I'll head back to mine and Laura's place - " Another pause, and tears that threatened to spill. She shook her head and rubbed her face and took Sherlock's hand, silently saying thank you.
"Just - one thing..." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbled a small note and handed it to her. "Look, I don't usually do this sort of thing. I really don't. But this case - your situation - I'm finding it difficult to keep up the formalities and just say goodbye. Here's my number, and please - the door of 221B is always open for you. I'm sure without a doubt that John would agree too."
He placed the scrap of paper in her hand, closed her hands with his own and held them there for a second. She nodded and smiled a smile of understanding before taking her leave. For a second Sherlock stood and watched her walk away. She crossed the street before hailing a cab and getting into it.
As the cab drove away, Sherlock couldn't help but feel glad he made her smile. ...
