Two of a Kind: the Fall
Author's Note: This is a sequel to my other story Two of a Kind. You can read this without reading the other one, but I definitely wouldn't recommend it.
I DON'T OWN ANYTHING BUT MY OC'S
Prologue
Almost a year went past since the four had met. Maria had healed up from getting shot pretty quickly, but her leg still annoyed her every now and then. She went back to work, and Lesterade was treating her with more respect than some of his other co-workers. But then again, his other co-workers weren't extraordinary geniuses that took a bullet for a ― almost ― complete stranger.
Since then, Maria has been knocked unconscious, tied to a chair (more than once), and has been decked with explosives. Not exactly her best moments. But for some reason, her and her roommate Em still keep in contact with John and Sherlock.
Speaking of Em, her and John broke up after two months. Luckily, they're still friends, but they really never had enough time for dating when Maria and Sherlock were involved.
Sherlock surprised everyone when Maria's birthday came around. He got her a new pack of throwing knives and a two-way ticket to America so she could visit her dad again (In reality, he did that because he knew who Irene was, and didn't want Maria there for that case). For Christmas, Maria bought him some new science equipment and an organ to experiment on. You can imagine how happy he was.
Eventually, the end of the year came and the New Year was going by fast. The first few months passed in a blur of cases, and the summer only brought bigger and better cases, along with the fall that no one saw coming.
Chapter 1
*Maria's and The Boy's POV's*
Three pair of feet hit the pavement, followed by the sound of a car close behind.
"Did you have to call him an idiot? He is one, but still!" Maria held Sherlock's hand tightly as they ran between alleys, John running alongside them.
"Did you have to threaten him?" Sherlock retaliated.
"Yes. He was way too close to me."
"Both of you need to learn how to shut up," John said, almost running into a fence.
They helped each other over it and ran into a nearby building. The three leaned against the wall and panted.
"That was great. We need to do it again," Maria looked up at Sherlock and laughed. He laughed with her, not letting go of her hand. John chuckled a bit, standing on the other side of Sherlock. He had to admit, it was pretty fun.
"I agree. Especially the part where he threatened to call the police and you brought out your badge," he looked down and shook his head, catching his breath.
"The look on his face was priceless," Maria imagined the man's wide eyes and open mouth, "Anyway, I guess we should call Lestrade and tell him that we found his criminal."
"We should. And what are you going to tell Em?" John asked Maria.
"Aw crap. You think I can just stay over at y'alls place again and avoid her till she calms down?" She knew what they were going to say.
"You could, but she might go insane," Sherlock joked. He still remembered when Emily slapped him because Maria saved him, and took a bullet because of it. It wasn't his fault, but she wouldn't listen.
"You probably need to just go home to not make her any more worried," John said, ignoring Sherlock's comment.
"True. I guess there's no avoiding her wrath. She's still mad at Sherlock and me because we had a throwing knife contest." Two months ago, Sherlock went to her apartment because he was bored. They ended up arguing about who had better aim, and somehow a target was taped to the living room wall and her new knives got stuck in it. Maria won. Em still won't let that one go.
"I can see why. You should see the bullet-filled smiley face we have," John sighed.
"You have a bullet-filled smiley on your wall? Why haven't I seen it yet?" her eyes filled with excitement. Oh, god. I still can't get used to there being two 'Sherlocks', John thought.
"I don't think you've gone in that room for a while. Now, I think we should get back to our flats, what about you?" Sherlock asked.
"I guess we should. But you, Sherlock, are coming with me. She doesn't yell at me as much when you're there."
"That's because she yells at me more."
John rolled his eyes. I swear, they argue like an old married couple. He looked out the door for any sign that the man chasing them was there.
"Exactly," she tightened her grip on his hand.
"Hey! What are you doing here?!" A gruff voice said in front of them. They all looked up and saw a large, dirty man in an apron, holding a butcher's knife.
"I'm sorry, we were just leaving," John held open the door, getting ready to run.
"I'm calling the police," the butcher took a phone out of his pocket and began dialing.
"Ready?" Sherlock murmured.
"Yea," Maria and John said at the same time. Sherlock pulled Maria's hand toward the exit, and she ran. Sherlock and John quickly followed, Sherlock smiling at the butcher's protests.
Maria ran up a fire escape and found her way to the roof. Turning around, she saw that the other two hadn't made their way up yet.
"Come on, boys!" she yelled, ready to jump to the other roof. She heard the bang of footsteps on the fire escape, and the two flatmates appear on top of the building. They ran up beside Maria, and jumped.
After running down more stairs and through more alleys, they found their way back to 221B.
"Wow, look at the time. I should be go ―" Sherlock tried to walk inside his flat.
"Nope. It's your fault we had to run ―" Maria started.
"Yours too."
"― and you're gonna endure this with me," she looked up at him, determined.
Sherlock looked at John, practically asking him for help.
"Just don't stay over there too late," John said, walking up the steps to their flat. Sherlock glared at him. John whispered to him, "One thing you need to know is: the girlfriend always wins." He unlocked the door and stepped inside, mouthing, 'Good luck.'
"Hey Em! I'm back from being almost flattened," Maria walked inside her flat with Sherlock, sliding off her coat and hanging it by the door. Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked into the living room. He heard the sound of water running through pipes above his head.
"She's in the shower," Sherlock plopped on the couch and laid down. Maria came in barefoot and saw him laying there.
"That's my spot. Out."
"Um…..no."
"Fine. Have it your way," she walked over and laid down on top of him, her feet beside his head. He adjusted to make room for her, but didn't get off. Maria then reminded Sherlock to text Lestrade and tell him the license plate number on the criminal's car. After he sent it, Em came in with a towel wrapped around her hair and slightly wet pajamas on.
"Nice to see you're alive," she sat in the chair under the throwing knives and looked at them sternly. Great. She's like the mother I never had, Maria stuffed her face in the pillow by her head.
"Why wouldn't we be? We've dealt with worse," Sherlock said.
"I know you have. But you were chased by a bloody car and didn't come back for an hour!" She yelled. It's a good thing we didn't tell her about Moriarty and his bombs. I would probably be dead if she knew, Sherlock felt his phone buzz in his coat pocket and dug it out, elbowing Maria's knee in the process.
"Be more careful," Maria said through the pillow.
"I didn't try to," he checked his phone. Lestrade thanked him and said that they were running the license plate. He slid his phone back in his pocket, elbowing Maria more forcefully.
She picked her head up and said, "You did that on purpose."
"Did what on purpose?"
She grabbed the pillow she was laying her head on and threw it at his face. He caught it and threw it back. That started a pillow fight, that both were determined to win.
Em got up and took the pillow from Sherlock's hands. She then replaced it with an older pillow ("If you're gonna fight, don't use my good pillows,").
After a minute of fighting, Maria realized that Em wasn't giving them her usual lecture. She decided not to question it. She didn't want to get yelled at, but it was still strange. Maybe she finally realized that we're gonna get in trouble all of the time, and it's no use yelling at us for it, she thought just as a pillow hit her face.
"Alright, that's enough. You two are acting like children," Em got up again and took the pillow away. "Why don't you do something grown-up, like watching telly?" She sat back down and grabbed a nearby newspaper to read.
Maria murmured, "Killjoy," and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, turning on the TV. The screen lit with life, and a familiar face was on the screen.
"The brilliant Sherlock Holmes has solved yet another case. James Burton, a man who had been on London's Most Wanted list since 2004, had been caught. Mr. Holmes and his two companions, Maria Campbell and John Watson, are the ones responsible for his capture this evening. Sherlock ―" the TV continued on to say that they greatly thanked Sherlock, and that James was behind bars.
"Wow, I didn't know I was dating a celebrity!" Maria joked.
"I'm not a celebrity."
"You're this close to fame," Maria held up two fingers closely. "Maybe you need to lay low for a while."
"How?"
"I don't know. Get smaller cases. I know it sucks, and don't make that face at me," Sherlock had his nose scrunched in disgust in her direction. It looked kinda funny to her. "Oh, I almost forgot. Lestrade told me to give you something since you didn't show up for the press conference last week," Maria rolled off of him and walked to the kitchen. She came back with a sloppily wrapped present, tossing it to him.
"What's this?" he caught it and ripped the paper. A deerstalker fell out. "You've got to be kidding me," he twirled it around in his fingers, messing with the two ends.
"I know. I told him you wouldn't like it," she sat beside his feet and watched him mess with the hat. He sat up beside her and tossed it around between his hands.
"It has two ends. Which end do you even put in the front? What would I even do with this thing, toss it? Look, it has ear flaps. It's an ear flap hat, Maria."
"It's a deerstalker." Em said from behind the newspaper.
"What would you even use it for? A Death Frisbee?" he mimicked throwing a frisbee before putting it on the coffee table, laying his head down on her lap.
Maria agreed that she didn't like it and changed the TV channel to The Maury Show (one of the thousand 'Who's the Father?' shows). Both of them would yell when it was clear ― to them ― who the father was.
Em rolled her eyes and said that she preferred the pillow fight over that.
Eventually, Sherlock said goodnight and left. Maria saw that he left the hat, and decided to wear it the next day just to see what he'd say.
Em walked past her and said, "Flirt, much?"
"Pry, much?" she quickly retaliated.
"Too much for my own good. Goodnight," Em walked upstairs and Maria heard a door close.
Maria smiled and went to her own bedroom. She changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old band t-shirt and went to bed. Nothing could prepare her for the next day.