"Hey…hey!" The young woman shrinks back onto the sidewalk as the cab speeds past, showering a long wave of water over her in its wake.
"Wonderful." She glances down at her jeans now soaked at the knee and below. It is only her third day in London, and already she managed to acquire a less than favorable opinion on city living. Nothing to cause regret on her decision to make the move from her existence in Illinois to a completely different country and culture, but still irritating regardless.
Her dark hair is tied up loosely in a ponytail that has seen too much walking in the past few hours, light brown eyes blinking as she scans the streets of London for another taxi to take her to her destination. Thoughtlessly, she fingers the newspaper clipping tucked within her jacket pocket.
Seeking neat and orderly tenant. One bedroom. One bath. Payment required up front. Please seek landlady for further details on rates at 221B Baker St.
She didn't need to look at the ad any longer to remind herself of the address or directions, having memorized the few words in just a couple of minutes. Heaven knows she repeated them in her head for long enough.
Another taxi, or cabbie as the locals called them, approaches from her right, the young woman practically leaping into its path to get it to finally stop. The driver looks annoyed as she shoots him a sickeningly sweet grin, and readjusts the strap of her purse as she moves to the backseat door.
"Thank you," She mutters, somewhat sarcastically, as she settles into the seat, "221B Baker Street please."
"American?" The driver observes, peering at her through the review mirror.
"Huh, you don't say?" She smirks back, that being about the tenth time today someone has pointed out her nationality after hearing her speak. It may have been harsh, but her patience is already worn, and soaked, to the bone.
The taxi pulls away without another word spoken from either its driver or passenger. Buildings and signs become a blur as the young woman attempts to remember the area, to gain some sort of handle on her location within this busy new world. Sure, staying at or near her hometown would have been a much easier path to travel. She could have gotten a job, settled down, and been everything that was considered average and normal and boring.
"Almost there Ms." The driver breaks her attention from the window and her silent pondering.
"Elliot." She answers his unspoken query, returning her gaze to the outside. They pull alongside a tall, average looking building. It is identical to the many other apartments lining the length of Baker Street, her eyes searching out the 221B that the advertisement directed to. Ms Elliot thanks the driver once more, handing him a few notes while rushing to exit the cab. As she approaches the door in question, numerous notches and scratches on the wood cause her pause. Whoever lived within must see a lot of through traffic.
Taking a deep breath, she taps lightly against the dark wooden door. In her mind, knocking just always seemed much more personal than laying on a buzzer. Muffled voices erupt on the other side of the door moments before it opens to reveal an elderly woman, kind eyes and smile welcoming her instantly.
"Oh hello, you must be the young lady who contacted me about the flat?" The older woman glances briefly back inside the building, the nervous crinkle in her brow telling of the worry hidden beneath the smile.
"Um, yes. Mrs Hudson, right? Raelin Elliot, though you can just call me Rae" She offers her hand to the other woman in greeting, "I'm sorry, do you have company? Is this a bad time?"
"Oh no dear!" The older woman responds quickly, "It's just my other tenants. They are having a bit of a row at the moment." Rae tilts her head to peek around the landlady, not able to see much aside from the staircase leading up to the second story room.
"Nice young men, though a bit spirited. Nothing to worry yourself over dear." Mrs Hudson steps aside to usher her inside the building, "You will hardly notice them." Another shout from the second story causes both women's head to snap in that direction, the disapproving frown gracing Mrs Hudson's features not going unnoticed by Rae.
"Yes, let me show you the available room then." It is obvious by the pressure at her back that Mrs Hudson wishes to get Rae as far away from the squabbling couple upstairs as possible, the younger woman silently obliging.
"It's a bit small, but certainly cozy if it will just be yourself moving in." Mrs Hudson explains as she opens the door to the lower apartment. "Cozy" is an accurate description of the room if one is hoping to be polite and mannerly. To be blunt, Rae would call the room cramped, and the décor left something to be desired. Still, it is more than suitable for just herself, and maybe a small pet if the lease allowed.
"Rent is due every 5th of the month, though first month is included along with the deposit." Mrs Hudson's voice follows Rae as she inspects her possible living quarters further.
"In your ad, you specified that you are looking for an organized tenant." A loud thud erupts from the second story, Mrs Hudson muttering an "oh lord" beneath her breath.
"Have you had many problems with past renters?" Rae pretends to not notice the noisy interruption, instead offering the older woman a gentle smile.
"Well…nothing too-" Another thud causes her to flinch, "drastic. I just like to keep a clean home, good for the spirit."
"It's alright Mrs Hudson, my mother is the same way." Rae's smile widens at the thought of her somewhat overbearing mother, "Cleanliness will certainly not be an issue."
"So you are to be taking the room then?" The older woman's eyes light up like sparklers at the notion, Rae unable to stop herself from chuckling at the sight.
"Absolutely. Is there some paperwork you need me to sign?" Rae frees her hair from the band holding it together, ruffling it with her fingers as it falls against her shoulders. "I'll start moving in tomorrow if possible. Hotel rooms are only fun for so long."
Mrs Hudson's eyes roll to the ceiling as she seems to ponder something for a moment, the bright smile slowly sliding from her lips.
"Yes, but before that, I should probably have you meet the boys." She brings a hand to her cheek, "it seems they have calmed down a bit. It should be safe."
"Safe?" Rae questions. Mrs Hudson's eyes shoot down to meet hers, the expression on her face clearly stating she had not meant to say that last part out loud.
"Um…yes. John is a sensible man, but Sherlock…" she worries at her bottom lip while seemingly looking for the right description of this second man, "He has been trying to quit smoking recently. Had a dreadful habit with it. It's made him a tad…short as of late."
"That's understandable." Rae smiles in attempts to soothe the woman, "No time like the present then!" The two women walk out of the lower dwelling, Rae careful to listen for anymore outburst from the men as they ascend the staircase.
"John? Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson calls into the open doorway as they both reach it, "I thought you'd like to meet the new tenant." Rae stifles a laugh at the sight of the room before her. It is no wonder Mrs Hudson had stated explicitly that she was looking for a clean applicant. Papers, clothing, wrappers and other such things are scattered all across the floor of the dimly lit apartment. The furniture is placed in no particular order, a man with short sandy hair and a computer on his lap staring at her from the armchair nearest the fireplace.
"Oh, hello." He smiles, eyes flicking briefly down to assess her entire figure.
Not very subtle, is he? Rae hides her thoughts with a grin.
"You must be John," Rae reaches out to shake the man's hand, "My name is Raelin."
"American?" John smirks, Rae careful to keep her tongue held between clenched teeth. No use in making a bad impression on her new neighbor already.
"Yea, just moved here from Illinois." Rae takes a second to continually assess her surroundings.
Is that a skull?
"John dear, where is Sherlock?" The smile is immediately wiped from John's face as he plops back down onto the armchair.
"Stepped out for a bit, I assume to try to bribe one of the nearby clerks to sell him a pack." John doesn't seem to want to discuss his flat mate any further, picking up the newspaper draped over the side of his seat and engaging himself with it.
"Would you like some tea Rae? Mrs Hudson here has a wonderful brew she makes."
"I am not your housekeeper John." The older woman snaps, huffing as she begins collecting some of the loose clothing on the floor.
"Has he tried a nicotine patch? It did wonders for my sister when she was trying to quit." Rae takes a seat opposite John on the couch. From behind his paper, she can see the small smirk crack at the corner of his mouth as he takes a moment to answer.
"Oh yes, he's tried the patch. Doesn't do much good it would seem."
"Rae dear, why I don't go fetch those papers for you to sign. John will keep you entertained I'm sure." Mrs Hudson pats at the back of the man's chair before turning to leave the two alone.
"Are you a student Raelin?" John lowers the paper to look at the pretty brunette seated across from him.
"Oh no, I'm a bit old to be calling myself a college student." She laughs, reclining back onto the sofa and crossing her still somewhat damp legs.
"If you don't mind me-"
"27." She answers him before he can continue awkwardly sputtering out the question. An uncomfortable silence still exists between them, John avoiding her gaze for the time being.
"What do you do John?" She breaks the silence and regains John's attention.
"I'm a doctor, well, was a doctor. In the military."
"Oh? Where at?"
"Afghanistan for a bit," His gaze drops to the floor, shifting in his seat slightly, "Got a medical discharge seven months in."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Rae consoles, leaning forward and resting her elbows onto her knees, "My brother was a marine for four years, infantry. He doesn't like to talk about it much either." Another moment of silence passes between the pair, Rae silently cursing herself for already making the poor guy feel uncomfortable.
"So, do you still practice medicine John?" Rae presses, praying that this topic is not as awkward as the last. By the look on the man's face however, she would manage a guess otherwise.
"Somewhat. I mostly just follow Sherlock around, help whenever he needs me." John chances a glance to the still open door, his thoughts obviously now with this man Sherlock.
"That's sweet. It must be nice to work with your partner." Rae's words cause John's head to snap back at once.
"My…you don't think we're…no!" John stutters, nearly leaping from his seat. Rae blushes furiously, her mouth gaping open in embarrassment.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It just seemed-"
"Do I really come off that way? Why does everyone keep assuming we're a couple?"
"Who is a couple?" A deep voice calls out from the open door, both John and Rae's head turning to meet its owner. A tall man, light blue eyes watching carefully beneath a head of dark, curly hair. This new man regards John first, before moving onto the stranger sitting upon his couch and staring back at him.
"New girlfriend John? You do move quickly." He deduces, noting the woman's body language as she is leaning comfortingly towards the shorter man. This new man, Sherlock if Rae had to wager a guess, strolls into the flat whilst removing the dark blue scarf tied around his neck, not sparing another glance to either herself or his roommate.
"No Sherlock, this is Raelin. She's moving into the flat downstairs." John corrects, once again returning to his seat and picking up the paper. Sherlock doesn't respond, just removes his coat and steps to the drawn open window.
Rae had up until this point been studying this new man's face, a habit of hers since childhood. She was always exceptionally good at reading people's emotions. Every facial twitch and quirk could tell a whole life's story, if the observer is keen enough. With Sherlock however, there is nothing. No surprise at finding a stranger in his home. No embarrassment or irritation at being corrected on his mistaken assumption. Even as he stands there, gazing out of the window, there is no hint of any thoughts that are surely buzzing throughout his mind.
"It's quite rude to stare." Sherlock announces, his expression portraying no trace of annoyance at being gawked at.
"Yea, sorry." Rae apologizes, but doesn't look away. At the sound of her voice, Sherlock turns from the window to look at her, the slightest lift in his eyebrow her own little personal victory. He takes three long steps to draw nearer to her location on the couch, blue eyes twitching quickly about in their sockets as he seems to assess her entire being. Unlike John however, Rae doesn't get the impression that he is doing this out of admiration.
"How was the flight out of O'hare? More successful than hailing a cabbie one would hope."
"Sherlock, don't." John lays his paper onto his lap and he glares warningly at Sherlock, Rae's curiosity shooting through the roof. How did he know she came from Illinois?
"No, it's alright John." Rae turns from the doctor to smile warmly at Sherlock, his head now tilted slightly seemingly ignoring his friend.
"Did Mrs Hudson mention that to you?" Rae counters, recalling the conversation she had with the elder landlady when she had first called to inquire about the room for rent.
"Hm? Oh no, Mrs Hudson is currently occupied with the butcher across the street." Sherlock moves to stand in front of the fireplace, "I imagine she is just now noticing the wedding band he forgot to remove due to her surprise visit. She won't be long."
"So O'hare…"
"Your tan. Slight discoloration at the elbow says that you've been living in weather not warm enough for short sleeves, not cold enough for a jacket. This time of year, somewhere in the Midwest then." He takes a sharp intake of breath as he pauses, Rae suddenly interested in the skin pigmentation of her own elbow.
"The way in which you pronounce your "A"s and "O"s would indicate that you live somewhere near Chicago, though not within the city limits. Only a slight accent. Probably in the surrounding farmlands, judging by the muscles on your arm and shoulders. Many years of outside work, probably a ranch." Sherlock turns his gaze from the fireplace to revel in the shocked expression of the young woman, only to find her looking quizzically back at him.
Surprise. Confusion. Close enough.
Rae takes note of the sly smirk on Sherlock's face as he takes in her silent response. He is enjoying this. Whatever this is, of course.
"Wow." She manages, John looking between the two with a great sense of apprehension. As far as Sherlock goes, this was only the start of his little "party trick". It is only the really personal and secretive things that really satisfy Sherlock's ego.
"Anything else you can tell from my farmers tan?" Rae jokes, glancing between the two men in good humor. Neither of them are smiling back, however.
"The scar on your left cheek, well healed and small. Most likely a childhood injury carried into adulthood. Another on your hand and clavicle, suggest recklessness and daring since you were young. No doubt encouraged by an older brother, close enough in age to actually wish to participate in childish games. Your nails are clean and manicured, a girlish and vain trait most likely shared between two women, a mother or sister then. Your hair is styled in a popular fashion common to those in their twenties, so I'm more inclined to lean towards a sister."
Rae is rendered speechless as she continues to gawk at this increasingly odd man. His awareness is impeccable, unbelievable. Sherlock takes her silence, and obvious state of amazement as an invitation to continue, now pacing back and forth as he continues to regard his new neighbor.
"The clover tattoo on your neck is small, easily hidden from your mother or father. Your name, Raelin, is Celtic. The tattoo is homage to your lineage, more likely to your father as men are usually more receptive of tattoos then women. Your mother, you don't respect her, nor her beliefs. The marks on your neck would hint to a necklace, probably a cross you wear to appease her, but its constant hasty removal shows that you do not wish to wear it outside of her presence."
"Sherlock!" John shouts from his seat, successfully drawing Sherlock's attention from Rae, "That's getting a bit personal. You've shown off enough already." Sherlock's expression remains blank as he turns to once again look at Rae, her own features conflicted between shock and slight irritation.
"That is…You are…" Rae looks at her hands, no longer able to hold eye contact with this man. Sherlock grins, ready for the onslaught of insults and inane hatred that usually accompany his deductions.
"Amazing."
A/N: I wrote this after (finally) sitting down and watching Sherlock for the first time. Got sucked in, watched both seasons (three times) and just had to try my hand at creating a fanfic for it. I have a good idea on where I would like to take this story, if it picks up a good amount of interest and following. Please let me know if you liked it so far, and wish to get to know Rae and her adventures within the Sherlock world any further! :)