Sherlock FanFic

This is it, I thought as I stared up at the shiny black door with its gold painted number plates and old fashioned knocker, both freshly cleaned by the English drizzle that falls consistently and soaks instantly. I was similarly rain-washed; my usually curly, loud, dyed-red hair was almost completely plastered to my head and shoulders as rain ran down my check, jumping of my chin and onto my thin hoodie, making me shiver.

I rubbed my hands together, half trying to rid them of cold and half in anticipation. I'd been waiting for this moment ever since I'd learnt of his existence two years ago. However, when I grasped the knocker I was hit by a sudden wave of doubt; after dreaming about this moment for so long, what if it wasn't all I expected it to be?

What if he didn't believe me, or kicked me out because I looked like some homeless kid seeking refuge? How humiliating would that be?

Another violent shiver wracked my bean-pole frame, deciding for me if I should knock or not. The noise of metal hitting wood echoed loudly around inside and I resisted the urge to turn tail and run.

Heart hammering and ears straining, I waited for the tell-tail footsteps of someone coming to open the door.

I didn't have to wait long.

The quick clip-clop of small heels told me it wasn't the person I wanted who was coming to let me in, but his landlady. She opened the door hesitantly at first, as if unsure as to who would be knocking this late, but flung it wide when she saw it was only me; thoroughly soaked and shaking like a blade of grass in a gale.

"Oh my goodness you must be freezing!" she exclaimed, kind eyes widening with disbelief. "Quick, come in before you catch your death of cold! Here, let me take your jumper dear. My goodness, it's wet through!"

She continued to fret as she took my hoodie and hung it on a heater to dry. As I wiped my feet on the welcome mat she locked the door and I stepped into the plain but homely hall.

I looked up the wooden stairs that led to another door, hearing multiple feet hitting the floor and what sounded like tribal music. Both noises were partially muffled by carpeting.

"Don't be alarmed by any strange sounds, dear. Sherlock's working on a case up there." Mrs Hudson explained apologetically.

I smiled for the first time in two years. "I'm used to it." I said.