Fade Into You
Rating: R (There are lighthearted moments, but much like real life there are dark moments laced into this work-consider this your warning).
The Disclaimer:
This work is entirely fiction (obviously). I'm writing this due to a slight incline of boredom in my everyday life-and this idea just won't leave me alone. It has an original character, if you don't like that leave. Not only that but this is a Sherlock fanfiction that is laced with Iron Man/The Avengers (at points) so if you don't like that-you should probably skedaddle too. I will warn of this, I'm not going to sit here inserting my character into every single case Sherlock has been on-I've read those fanfics, and while some of them are really great-it's boring to read the same case over and over again with slight fluctuation. There will be moments of course where things from the show collide with this work, but it won't be the base.
The Notes:
As of this first chapter I'm not quite sure where in the Sherlock series this will begin, but assume there are spoilers for every season currently aired. This more than likely takes place around the middle of season one. Assume that my character being inserted will change the course/outcome of anything after the first season.
As for Iron Man, this takes place after the second movie but before the Avengers-and we're also assuming that Iron Man 1 and 2 have a wider gap than a couple of years. Also be aware that it won't be heavily played into this fanfiction until later chapters, we won't be dealing with aliens falling from the sky or Gods running around everywhere much in this fanfiction.
Questions or comments, feel free to ask. I'm simply doing this to get it out of my head and posting it for whatever reason.
Last Note:
My Character creation is modeled after Karen Gillan.
Prologue: London Calling
He made her late. Of course he did, there was the first good-bye last night, followed by a good-bye this morning, and then yet another. He was guilt tripping her to stay, which ironically was one of the reasons she knew that the choice she made was the best one. After all, she was twenty five years old, she didn't need to be living at home anymore. Pink converse slammed against the linoleum of the terminal, she already went through security (thankfully with no extra and awkward pat down) and now she was headed towards her gate. He offered to fly her privately, but no-she was changing her entire person hood-even leaving her real name behind. She wanted this to be all her.
Except for the fact he did help her secure an apartment in London, which is where she choose to live after throwing a dart at a wall map (actually that was her third choice, the first dart hit a tiny village in Africa and the second was Utah). She was grateful for that of course, when it came to her and his guilt over the missed years he would seemingly do anything. The one thing she needed though was to have her own life for awhile, not attached to his name or her history.
Which is why her passport as she handed it over to be stamped had her labeled as Madeline O'Brien instead of her true name. It was another easy process for her dad to help her with, begrudgingly, but he had to admit it would be safer for her out in the world this way. That and a few other safety precautions were how they had come to terms with her leaving home. Home wasn't bad, it just wasn't life-and she lusted after life.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she boarded the plane with only seconds to spare. It was a fairly crowded flight leaving New York, but she expected that. Finding her seat and jamming her carry on in the overhead, she carefully balanced her black over sized purse on her arm while she tried to make it to her window seat without falling in anyones lap. She sat, breathed in deep, and smiled-finally.
Madeline was the product of a short but torrid love affair between her mother when she was involved in the Californian party scene and a slightly younger man who teetered between overly cocky and roguishly charming. Growing up she didn't know that her mother was a partier, she didn't know that her mother had been from a well off family (whose wealth crashed in one of the fickle moments of the economy), but most importantly she didn't know the man she thought was her father-wasn't. She was the spitting image of her mother, and never really questioned why she didn't look like her father; a preacher from the south. They had met when her mother was struggling to find a life for herself and her newborn daughter. Too young to remember, Madeline just always knew that her mother was wonderful and her Father...well, she just knew to listen to him.
It was easy to think about the past on plane rides, she could never concentrate enough on any books she brought to read, nor could she just shut her brain off long enough to get lost in music blaring from her headphones. There were times after the truth was out and she was with her real dad that while on plane rides she would end up crying at some point, it came naturally-it was a thinking time. On the plane everything stopped and her brain couldn't shut down. Of course this time she promised herself she wouldn't cry-this wasn't one of her dad's private jets. She didn't want strangers to see her cry. It was supposed to be a happy time.
A simple trip across the ocean and she would be in her new home. After it was decided she would be leaving, she started to research for months on a place to live. She had lists of pros and cons, pictures tacked up on her walls, and notes everywhere trailing behind her-even on napkins at dinner. When she moved she didn't want to keep moving, she wanted to move, live for awhile, put down her own roots. Her entire life before had been spent rushing from place to place, and she was tired of it. She found the apartment-or flat (that would take some getting used to) in a small ad in a newspaper that her dad brought home from a London business trip. She had refused to go, afraid that going with him and seeing the area first would some how make her leery to leave her "home". Not to mention he IS the type that would show her the worst areas just to make her stay home.
The apartment ad was simple, a basement flat was open on a nice busy street in a decent area of London. Affordable with her job, but it needed renovations. The price she paid to have her dad kick in for the renovations was expected, Sunday night calls, a couple of e-mails a week, and for him to get to throw her a going away party (well a small one), and her taking self defense lessons "just in case". So she called, talked to the landlady and offered to make the renovations.
The landlady was remarkably nice, even considered nice by the construction workers her dad hired. She ran a background check, deemed Madeline "safe" for her other tenants (whatever that meant), and went about telling her all about London. There were some stipulations though, they would talk over color schemes (after all if Madeline ever moved out, the renovations would stay) plumbing, and other construction ideas. It was actually fun, it reminded her of her mother.
She was looking forward to a face to face meeting. Mrs. Hudson would be the only one in London to truly know who she was, with the work her dad was putting into 221c and just talking in general it was a hard secret to keep. Of course once she found out, and after the background check, a lot of conversations with Mrs. Hudson started with "You poor dear girl".
And that was the main reason she was to remain unknown in London.
The flight was unremarkable, with the exception of the old lady next to her snoring. Unlike her dad who could probably build five robots on a plane if he wanted to, Madeline didn't get much done even though she had brought books, music, and a notepad. Mostly she daydreamed about her new life. She wanted to make friends, real friends. It was silly, she knew it was but all the sitcoms on television tended to be about twenty something friends-and she wanted that.
Wanted a fresh start, friends, and new experiences.
It took awhile once off the plane to come by her luggage, she only came with a suitcase and carry on since most of her stuff was already sitting in boxes in her apartment. It was still a decent amount for one person to juggle, it all teetered like a fine balancing act as she headed towards the doors where taxi's lay waiting for people that were coming out of the terminal.
Autumn in London was remarkably similar to autumn in New York, a little more overcast and maybe a few degrees colder but nothing else was different about the air. Which meant the dark tights she wore under her skirt would still keep her warm and her slightly large blue sweatshirt would at least be decent until she arrived at Baker street.
She found an empty taxi, and away they went. Questions were asked, the Cabbie was friendly but not overly so. The kind of friendly you get when they're trying to get a better tip. She didn't mind, the more she talked about how excited she was to be moving to London the less she had to think about everything else. All the worries were starting to creep in, the 'will I like it?', the 'what if I can't make it?', the thoughts you get when you are so excited for something yet worried that something might cause it all to crumble down.
Baker street was just as nice as the pictures, the sandwich shop next to the flat looked wonderfully quaint, and it was all she could do to stop her hands from shaking as she got her luggage out. She had finally done it, she was finally there.
On her own.
The front door opened to reveal a lady who was only slightly taller than her (thanks Mom for the short genes!) with hair still reddish and not quite aged as much as her face was. "Maddie?" It was hesitant but there was a smile on her face, as if she would be anyone else-she had called only a few minutes prior to let her know she landed.
She smiled, and nodded. "That's me!" She moved towards the front steps, her luggage balancing carefully.
"Oh come in you poor dear girl, you'll catch a cold out there in that outfit of yours." It was exactly what she expected, and honestly something she found herself happy to have got with moving into this building-a mother hen. A mother figure was something she missed deeply. Her dad's girlfriend was fine, she was nice, smart, and really lovely to her-but by the time she found her way into their lives, she was too old to be babied and so a friendship was born instead. Mrs. Hudson, however right away became a mother figure. They had bonded the past few weeks on the phone as construction went off and on, and it was exactly what she needed. She had a feeling Mrs. Hudson was like that with everyone though...mothering.
"I was running late and left my coat behind." Maddie explained stepping into the foyer. It was nice, it was-really. Old, musty, with character. Her dad's houses were new and modern, somewhat sterile. The houses she grew up in were a lot like this, she liked it. It only took her a moment to put her bags down before Mrs. Hudson was hugging her.
"It's so good to finally meet you dear, it really is. The boys have been driving me mad these days."
"The boys?" She asked, returning the hug and pulling away after a moment with a raised brow.
"Oh, the other tenants upstairs." She explained, helping Madeline pick up her bags and lead her towards a door to the side. "Been gone all hours of the night, stomping in expecting tea and biscuits-I'm a landlady not a maid!" There was something in her voice though that depicted she didn't mind it all that much. "Since you're in the basement flat you won't have to deal with the noise as much, and oh it's so beautiful."
She followed the elder woman through the door of her flat which right away led to the staircase into her new home, and as the light switched on she could agree-it was quite beautiful. It was everything she had ever dreamed of. All the planning had paid off, "Oh I'm so happy you talked me out of the yellow." At first because it was a basement flat she thought about painting the walls yellow-nice and bright to keep things cheery. Mrs. Hudson suggested a more rich blue, deep in color-it didn't even make the area look smaller.
"The furniture you've chosen is lovely though." A compliment for a compliment it seemed as Mrs. Hudson ran her hand along a dark coffee colored sofa. Furniture it was decided would stay in the flat whenever Madeline decided to leave, mostly by her own choice-she figured if she was to leave London she probably wouldn't be just relocating in the neighborhood but flying back to the states...she was well aware that this was sink or swim, and while she had confidence she knew what kind of outcomes were possible.
There were boxes of her stuff here and there, although some of it had been put away already. Only the really personal stuff-and marked as such had been left in boxes. Mrs. Hudson stayed quiet as she took it all in, it wasn't an overly large flat, although the right type of furniture made it seem downright spacious. There were basement windows here and there, letting in some light. Most of the light came from floor lamps and table lamps that Mrs. Hudson had already turned on prior to her arrival.
"It's just...so perfect Mrs. Hudson." Honestly she felt like crying. It WAS perfect. Her own personal space-all her own. It wasn't modern, it was comfy, the only modern technology filtering through the space was a flat screen television mounted on the wall opposite of the sofa and a computer tucked away on a desk right next to the kitchen area.
"How about you look around for a bit and freshen up then come across the hall in a bit for some tea?" Mrs. Hudson offered, it was clear that the young woman wanted to look around, and see what the flat had to offer. Madeline blushed, she was that transparent.
"Thank you!"
Mrs. Hudson nodded and left, leaving a set of keys on the end table by the sofa.
Then she was alone.
The first thing she did was walk the kitchen, open doors to see where they had put her plates and cups. Soon she found that someone (ie: her dad) had managed to stock her apartment up with all the food she enjoyed and what she liked to cook. Amazing. She didn't think he noticed THAT much-to be fair that could have been the doing of numerous other people, including a robot-but he probably was the one to think for them to do it. Sufficiently satisfied with the state of the kitchen she headed towards her desk, computer, printer, anything she would need as far as office supplies go in the drawers of her dark cherry desk-including more post it notes then she would ever possibly use. There were bookshelves all around the flat, some tall, some small, most already filled with her books and her work that she had arranged to do while in London.
Near the desk was a hall that branched out, one side was a bedroom and the other was a door that lead to what she would assume was the bathroom. With a quick peek inside, she knew she'd be spending a lot of time in the bathroom. A nice large tub had been installed, a shower off to one side, and a very nice lighted sink and mirror area. She grew up with a small bathroom with her mother and step-father, no lock on the door, no privacy for long baths (take longer than fifteen minutes in the bathroom then you better be sick or someone was sinning according to her step-father). When Mrs. Hudson had agreed to all of her bathroom wants, and construction guys agreed it could be done in the building she had jumped for joy, especially since the bathrooms at her dad's were all sterile and never included an actual bathtub. Seeing it in person was way better than all the pictures sent to her. Dark tile on the floor, gray marble counter tops, and a simple white wash on the walls. Perfect.
She explored the bedroom next, simple. The bed was a double-she didn't need anything bigger as she was quite small in general and it would be overly ridiculous. The bedding was dark purple, matching the intensity of the blue that carried over from the living room. It was a room that would be nice to lay in for hours, to prop her laptop up on her bed and lay undisturbed watching whatever she pleased. The lack of overall space meant her closet was small, but with organization not be too much of a problem. It lay barren, with boxes nearby-she wasn't a fan of letting other people handle her clothing.
There were a few pieces missing, but they would come over in the next few weeks. It would take awhile to get settled anyway.
All in all, the apartment was perfect. All of her apprehension she gained while traveling had just popped away, even as she heard something drop upstairs-a hard clunk on the ground followed by someone mumbling, the walls weren't thin enough to hear what was said.
She grabbed her carry on from the plane and headed into the bathroom, the flight was long, and a quick rinse down and change would do her good.
She didn't dilly dally in the shower, and as such was at Mrs. Hudson's door less than half an hour after the woman had left her apartment to make tea. Her ginger hair was damp and tied up in a high bun to keep it busy for the time being. Since she had a flat full of food, and a lot of unpacking to do, she figured the night would be spent in. Therefore comfort had been key, which explained the slipper boots she wore along with dark leggings and yet another over sized sweater, this time pink. A quick knock and she was being ushered in, the smell of tea was in the air, and she wondered if the stereotype of everyone in the UK loving tea was true.
"C'mon in dear, I have one of the boys here patiently waiting to meet you-had to get away from his other half for the moment."
"N...not my other half." a male voice filtered out from the kitchen and into the living area, walking out with a tray that had a few cookies on it, he set it down to join the tea on the table before looking up. "Oh...h...hello." A bashful smile was given as he extended his hand, which she met with her own.
"This is Doctor John Watson, and John this is Madeline S...O'Brien" Her heart sped up with the introduction but it seemed like last minute Mrs. Hudson remembered, she wasn't Madeline Stark anymore. Not here, not now.
"Nice to meet you Dr. Watson."
"John please."
"Maddie!"
And then it was an awkward few moments as they all shuffled around to sit, asking how tea was taken, and having a warm mug placed in her hands. She watched the Doctor carefully, he wasn't a tall man, but still had quite a few inches on her, he was dressed for comfort much like her which said he was either expecting to be in for the night or simply didn't care how he dressed. She wondered if the bang she heard earlier had anything to do with him coming down to spend some time with Mrs. Hudson.
"We hardly realized that Mrs. Hudson was renting the basement flat out." He said, taking a sip of his tea.
Mrs. Hudson had rolled her eyes and just swatted him on his sweater covered arm, "Oh you should have. You boys and your running around-how did you not notice we had construction workers day in and day out?" She sighed, and shook her head-giving Maddie a 'boys will be boys' look.
"Well we have been busy working."
"Oh, do you and your...room-mate work together?" This was Maddie as she took a sip of her tea...nope...she did not like that, no. Ugh. Great. It's not like she went twenty five years without having any tea, but generally spending most of her time growing up in the American south, tea was Sweet and cold. This was warm, and the tea left an unpleasant aftertaste on her tongue.
John looked thoughtful for a moment, having a bite of a cookie and giving a slight smile. "I guess you could say we do. I work on my own too, but I help him-he's a…"
"...consulting detective." It was a deep voice that interrupted John. Mrs. Hudson jumped up quickly and already was heading around for another cup for tea.
"Oh come in Sherlock, meet our new renter, have some tea."
It was a curious moment as she stood up, polite-as was drilled into her by her step-father, a habit she was trying to break since her real dad would pretty much ignore any realm of polite behavior and she found some of it at least to be refreshing.
When she stood she got the first look of him, coming to stand behind John. Suddenly she was all too aware that she was in plain clothes, plain face, and a real uneventful hairstyle. The man looked as if he had just got back from the office-but a consulting detective? While she had no idea what that was she figured it had nothing to do with office work. Purple button up and black slacks, shoes were scuff free and cared for. The shirt was slightly undone, and looked as if it hadn't seen a tie that day. It was interesting to see someone so dressed up in a place where everyone looked like they were ready to retire for the night, even Mrs. Hudson was in comfortable looking clothes. She always hated to meet new people while looking out of place, like when her dad would bring home clients to talk to sometimes in the early years and she would have no warning which caused her to meet some very important people in her Hello Kitty nightie.
"Can't stay long Mrs. Hudson we have a new case." He said, with blue eyes sweeping up and down her, spending too long looking in certain areas-but not the areas men usually looked. She looked away, towards John who was already wearing an apologetic look. That look, combined with the scrutiny, and the warning from Mrs. Hudson about the tenants upstairs meant only one thing...she wasn't being warned about John. She was being warned about Sherlock.
"Don't start Sherlock." John was already saying as he slowly started to get up, resigned to the fate of having to leave the comfort of home.
"I wasn't going to."
"Start what?" Maddie asked, only slightly perplexed at the oddity of the situation. She couldn't help herself, curiosity killed the cat after all.
"He just doesn't want me to tell you, what you tell me. A twenty-something American...spending many years in the southern states suddenly moving to London for the first time. Breaking away from home but able to afford the renovations needed for the basement flat, coming from wealth. Probably your first time away from home, trying to...find yourself in a foreign land…"
Creepy.
"You already have work here though, wanting to break away from the money of your...father I would assume. It's a stay at home job, probably to due with data entry or something. Simple."
Insulting.
"You wear over sized shirts to hide your form, hurt by a former boyfriend no doubt-same reason why you are shy-your movements are made as minimal as possible-usually seen in women who have seen abuse, afraid of being seen. You're nervous in general though, doubts about surviving on your own-which...you probably won't, I give you a month before you want to go home."
Only marginally true, and she didn't think she'd only last a month...
"Stop that right now Sherlock Holmes!" That was Mrs. Hudson, apparently having enough while Maddie just stood there like a fish trying to process it. Not all true though, but shocking nonetheless that he was able to get near the truth. It only took her moments to realize he was doing that simply to show off, possibly embarrass or shame her into leaving, he probably didn't enjoy change-and her living there would be a change regardless of how limited their interactions with each other would be.
Sherlock, to Mrs. Hudson's credit did cease. He looked a bit taken aback by the women yelling at him, he probably needed to be reminded-probably didn't do well in social situations and just...went off the deep end because someone hurt him in the past. Can't get hurt again if you push people away by telling them you know their deepest secrets just by the way they hold themselves. She wondered how often he was wrong. "Sorry." He said but where he could deduce, she could observe.
"You don't have to apologize if you don't mean it." She told him, "Obviously I come from wealth, I was able to have the apar-flat renovated very nicely-maybe one day you'll even see it. As for my over sized shirts, I had been traveling, and now I intend on staying in-should I not be comfortable as I unpack? Hesitant movements? Maybe I'm just polite."
"Perhaps, but that's not why."
"Perhaps."
"Come John, we have a murder scene to attend."
John who had been looking between them like he was watching a tennis match got up, "Thank you for the tea Mrs. Hudson, and it was very lovely to meet you Maddie-hopefully we can chat more soon."
"Well, you know where my door is!" She said...and blushed, that was a horrible joke.
"Yes, pleasure to meet you...Maddie?"
"Madeline O'Brien, Mr. Holmes-and likewise, maybe next time we can have a conversation."
And then they were off, leaving her and Mrs. Hudson sitting there awkwardly for a moment nursing their tea.
"He isn't always like that you know, he just...is…"
"I understand Mrs. Hudson, really I do. I know a lot of intelligent people, some of them act like that too...well maybe not like THAT, but similar. He's just trying to assert his intelligence, I bet you anything that growing up someone kept lording their own intelligence over him making him feel bad."
Mrs. Hudson nodded, "Well now, what are you going to be up to now that you're here in London?"
"Well, I'm not sure. I just wanted to live away from home for awhile-away from that life…"
"Oh I just can't imagine it, to be his daughter. It's amazing that neither John nor Sherlock know who you are from face alone."
Maddie shrugged, this she was used to-"Dad did a good job keeping my picture out of the paper, only my name will ever lead to anything-which is why I appreciate you keeping it a secret."
"Oh I understand dear, all that nasty stuff-best kept in the past, and now you have your future at your finger tips."
"Speaking of future Mrs. Hudson, I think I should get started unpacking-if I don't do it now, I won't do it for weeks on end."
As Maddie left Mrs. Hudson's flat and towards her own, the door opening and heading down the stairs she wondered to herself...would Sherlock Holmes figure out who she was...or would she seem so insignificant that he didn't bother?
