Sherlock slammed the door behind him. "John," he called loudly as he made his way up the stairs. There was no response, and John was sitting near the empty fireplace when he entered. Annoyed with his flatmate for ignoring him, Sherlock intentionally left the door open, knowing that John would be peeved.
And he was. Somehow sensing that the door was open, John turned his attention to it. He looked sharply at Sherlock, a frown on his face. "Sherlock," he said, lowering his voice, "Close the damn door. There's a draft."
"There isn't," Sherlock said nonchalantly, watching out of the corner of his eye as he walked toward the kitchen, ignoring the door standing open behind him.
John's frown reached his eyes and he started to say, "We've got company," to Sherlock, who wasn't really listening, but just then Sherlock discovered the company for himself.
She was standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open, gazing at its contents. Her back was to Sherlock, and at first he wasn't sure whether she knew he'd entered the kitchen or whether or not she was frightened by what she was looking at. But when she turned around, her expression was one of amusement. "You keep decapitated heads in your refrigerator," she said, crossing the room to the microwave, which she opened. "..And eyeballs in the microwave."
Sherlock watched her carefully. She didn't seem to be frightened or surprised in the slightest by what she was finding in the flat.
"Have you got mummies in the bedrooms?" she asked after a moment.
Sherlock frowned. "No," he said.
She nodded. "Thought not. I mean, John probably would have mentioned it when he told me about the heads and the eyeballs."
"Told you?" Sherlock repeated.
"Oh yes, he never stops going on about his flatmate, the—what was it? Ah, yes—the self-proclaimed high-functioning sociopath, who is also a terrible flatmate . . . and a detective."
"I'm not a terrible flatmate," Sherlock said as soon as she'd stopped speaking.
She smiled. "Of course not," she said, her voice softening. She took a few steps toward Sherlock, who suddenly felt wary of this strange woman. "I'm Kate," she said, extending a hand.
He glanced at her outstretched hand disdainfully before saying, "Sherlock Homes."
"Pleasure to meet you," Kate said.
"Is it?" Sherlock asked.
Withdrawing her hand, Kate laughed, and the quiet sound echoed around the flat.
John, out in the other room, was keeping perfectly quiet.
"Kate..?" Sherlock prodded.
"Ah, how rude of me," she said, smiling. "Katherine Watson. But everyone calls me Kate."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Watson?"
Kate opened her mouth, but just then John appeared and said, "My cousin."
"I see," said Sherlock, now more interested in the woman than he had been before. "Well, Katherine-"
"Kate," she interjected.
"-Kate," he acquiesced, "It's been just wonderful meeting you, but I've business this evening and I'm going to need John's accompaniment."
Once more, Kate opened her mouth to reply, but John was quicker. "She's staying here," he said very matter-of-factly.
Sherlock turned to him, his brows knitting together.
"She'll be here for a month, actually," John went on. "Perhaps longer, if she can stand it."
Sherlock looked at Kate, though he addressed John. "She isn't staying."
"She is."
"We didn't discuss this."
"Because I knew that you would say 'no'."
"I'm saying 'no' now."
"Well she's already here and her things have been moved to my room."
"And if she's in your room, where do you plan on sleeping?"
"My god, Sherlock," John said, sounding exasperated, "We've got a damn nice couch and plenty of blankets and things. I'll be just fine."
"For a month?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes, for a month. Or more!"
Seeing that this wasn't working as he'd like it to, Sherlock switched tactics. "What'll she do to keep herself busy when we're out?"
"She'll come with us."
"She will not."
"She will."
"Not."
"Damn it, man!" John was shouting now, "I've got family that I'd like to spend time with!"
"Then go visit her elsewhere!" Sherlock shouted back.
"No! Besides, she's already here and-"
It was at that moment that Mrs. Hudson came in, entering through the still-open front door and crossing her arms. "Are you two having another domestic?" she asked, frowning.
"No Mrs. Hudson," John said, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes, "We were just discussing-"
But he was interrupted by Kate's laugh. "She's right you know," she said when she'd recovered, "you two fight like an old married couple."
John ignored his cousin's comment, turning to Sherlock. "She's staying," he said firmly.
Sherlock stared at him for a moment, glanced at the two women, and then looked back to John. When he spoke, he growled a single word through his teeth. "Fine."
Hey! Okay, this is my first Sherlock story. What that sentence means is: I think I know what I'm doing but I really haven't got a clue. So if you have any ideas on how I can make Sherlock/John/Mrs. Hudson/anyone more in-character, please Please PLEASE let me know! Thank you so much for reading and I'd love to hear what you thought of this. I know it's short, but I promise that the coming chapters will be much longer. Any suggestions/corrections you have are always welcome. Thanks again for reading! ~Taelr