Author's Note:
Hello all! This is my first fanfiction, I am receptive to critiques as I would like to improve my writing skills! I only own my original character. I plan to make this a multi-chapter story revolving around my character and the Sherlock cast. Set after The Reichenbach Fall.
I hope you enjoy!
/
It was the 8th of May in London.
The cool, heavy rain pounded the window like a garden hose, leaving long trails of water streaking down the length. No signs of letting up.
It was her 24th birthday.
Instead of celebrating, she was viewing a flat share in Marylebone Village.
"So, this is it then?" the young woman asked, large grey eyes peering out the window of the small, dimly lit bedroom to the rain soaked streets below.
"It's a tad tight but it really is charming, isn't it dear?" Mrs. Hudson, the owner of 221 Baker St. asked cheerfully.
A rhetorical question really.
Of course it was charming.
Very charming.
Terribly charming.
She was hardly even sure she could afford it yet.
"It's lovely...Perfect actually," she replied with full sincerity.
And it was.
She had responded to the listing for the room with the intention of saving a bit of money.
Upon viewing the flat she was certain that there had been a mistake. Perhaps the landlady had meant £1500 and not £500?
But alas, the ad was correct.
The room was modestly furnished, containing only a queen sized bed, a small writing desk, and a bedside table. The walls were painted a dark navy that almost appeared black in the warm light cast from the table lamp.
She greatly liked the herringbone hardwood floors and the vintage moulding that the room featured. It was old and settled, surely steeped in a rich history and it felt perfect to her.
"And the washroom, it's just over here, you'll love this bit," the landlady trailed off as she motioned to the next door from the bedroom.
The younger girl stepped into the small wash closet and gave it a solid once over.
"I even get my own washroom," she said, mostly to herself.
Yes, this was her favorite so far.
Here the walls were a dark teal color that reminded her of the color of an angry storming ocean.
She briefly caught her reflection in an ornately framed gold mirror that hung above the sink.
The rich tones of the washroom nicely highlighted her ivory complexion. The soft, low lighting accentuated the gentle contours of her heart shaped face.
Tucking a softly curled lock of her copper hair behind her ear, she scanned the rest of the room.
It was cramped yes, but what it lacked in size was made up for twice over by a deeply set claw foot bathtub.
Should she decide to rent the flat she could already imagine the unholy amount of time she would spend in that tub.
She loved baths. It was her own time, to clear her head from the daily bullshit. She could just slip her head under the warm water and drown out the rest of the world.
"So how does this work then," the younger woman mused, stepping back into the upstairs hallway. "Him being out of town and all. He doesn't get a say in his new flatmate?"
The two women made their way back down the stairs to the living room. Mrs. Hudson gestured for her to have a seat while she prepared the rental documents (informal as they were).
"Oh he trusts my judgement love. In any case...if there were to be any qualms, it would most likely be you with him. He can have quite terrible manners sometimes."
The younger woman nodded, taking in her new surroundings. A human skull on the mantelpiece. Buffalo skull painted a glossy black...with headphones no less. She did love the wallpaper though even with...
"Are those bullet holes?" her tone was incredulous but not alarmed; much to Mrs. Hudson's relief.
"Like I said love, bad manners..."
By the end of the evening she had received the keys to her new flat, had drinks with her new landlady, and moved her precious few belongings in with her.
Coming from Montreal it would have cost a fortune for her to ship her whole household. She had reduced her belongings to two large boxes full, and sold the rest off before the move.
"It's nice though," she thought as she lay on her new bed, hands laced behind her head, tangled into her long copper locks.
Starting over somewhere new. Without all of her stuff. Away from all the problems she left behind.
Her coworkers, friends and family, lovers and exes. People and things that had become her identity for so long.
She was completely alone.
Rather than feeling sad, she felt an odd sense of relief.
She finally had the opportunity for reinvention and she fully intended to make good use of it.
She reached for her MacBook from her bedside table and waited for it to boot up.
She spent the next several hours cleaning house on her computer.
She started by clearing out her photo cache, taking one last look at the past three years. Photographic evidence of her previous existence.
There were plenty of her with old friends. Out at parties. Work trips. Weddings, birthday parties, and the like. Oh and there it was...
The one with her old boss and former flame. Their only photo together.
"Peter-"
The photo had been taken at their work Christmas party.
What had they been talking about? Perhaps the weather? The way that Susan from development desperately flirted with the new intern? The awkwardness of social gatherings?
Drunken co-workers with cameras insisting on taking photos.
He slipped his arm around her waist. Whispered quietly in her ear. She giggled.
He flashed the camera the most winning smile.
Oh how little she had known.
Her face sunk into her palms and she raked her fingers up through her hair, scraping her skull. Cursing to the emptiness of the room.
She should be glad to never see these photos again.
She was nearly done when she made up her mind to wipe the entire hard drive after all.
Fresh start, she told herself; cringing as the final files pixelated and then disappeared entirely. She couldn't say it was painless, but she also wouldn't stand to be tortured by these sentimental fragments of her old life any longer.
After booting the computer back up, she made quick work of closing out all of her old accounts. Emails, social networking sites, blogs, even going so far as to delete her accounts from shopping sites. She cleared the Google searches and reset her browsing preferences.
Just to be sure, she typed her name into the search engine, just in case there was anything she had missed.
There wasn't. Nothing linked to her. She let out a bated breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. The relief that washed over her was immense.
Nothing was to be saved anymore.
She would never to provide the means to her own demise ever again.
Feeling satisfied with the work she had accomplished, she decided to draw herself a nice hot bath.
She turned faucet fully open, the tap letting out a loud squeal of pressure before pouring the hot water into the basin.
She sat perched on the edge of the the deep tub, as she waited for it to fill. Carefully toeing the water every so often to make sure the temperature was right.
She decided she would treat herself to some nice salt and oils for her bath tomorrow, but this would do just fine for now. She had a bit of shopping to do to get settled anyways.
The tub had finished pulling and she carefully slid her trim frame in, trying to see how little she could disturb the water.
Fully stretched out, she was pleased to see that her feet barely hit the end of the tub by the faucet. At 5'3" she considered herself to be fairly short, and yet all of her other bathtubs had felt so cramped compared to this one.
As she soaked she pondered over her new situation. Mentally checking items off of her list of to do's.
She already had found a place to live.
She made enough with her graphic design to get her by, and she could always take on more projects.
She had no friends or family here, and therefore her time was completely her own. She was grateful for that.
Her thoughts turned to her new flatmate. She furrowed her brow slightly, realizing how very little she knew of him.
She understood him to be some sort of private detective.
Mrs. Hudson had made him out to be at least mildly eccentric. And yes, those were bullet holes in the living room wall.
Mentally she shrugged it off.
She was sure she could cope.
After all, how often do roommates really see each other anyways? Everyone is always so busy...
She remembered that Mrs. Hudson had written down the link to the blog that the detective's partner maintained. Perhaps she should give it a read.
After drying herself from her soak she slipped into the new dressing gown she had purchased earlier that day. It was short, hanging a few inches above her knees, made of black silk with a thick Venetian lace edging the sleeves. A present to herself.
She plopped herself on the bed and once again reached for her laptop. Typing in the link to the blog, she noted the time.
11:57pm
Happy Birthday Clementine, you get a brand new start.