WEELLLLLLLLLLLLCOOOOOME to my first non-romance story. Before I go any further, I want to let you all know that Alice is based off my dear friend who is like a little sister to me- 2CuteAnimeAngel! She's really helped me with making certain decisions like the cover and the name and Alice's name- she really is a huge part and this truly is for her.
That aside, I want to thank you as well, reader, for taking the time of day to check this out. If you would let me know what you think,- should you decide to read on- in the review box, that would be lovely! Without further adieu, here's...
Chapter 1
The sleek black car arrived in front of the Baker street rentals 221A and 221B. In front of 221B was my Uncle John. My social worker Isaac helped me out of the car, an apologetic smile on his face. He'd been the same one who got me adopted by Harriet "Harry' Watson almost ten years ago, and now he was the one taking me from her.
"At least you know him somewhat. Cheer up, old girl." He whispered comfortingly to me.
"I will soon enough." I replied uneasily. I knew it was true. I was always one to accept change readily, being as that was all that seemed to occur constantly.
"Hello, Alice." Uncle John told me, wrapping me in a strong hug. I could feel his anger, but it wasn't towards me. It was toward my mother. She had given up on drinking for the first several years, but over the last couple she and her girlfriend were fighting more, so she got back to it. I suppose I always knew they eventually take me away because of it.
"Here's he belongings." Isaac told John, handing him a duffle bag. John was silent a moment and I moved so that I faced Isaac as well.
"Where's the rest?"
"This is it." Isaac replied shortly.
"I never really wanted anything, Uncle John. This was always enough for me."
He flared his nostrils a bit and pushed me away slightly. "Go inside. We'll be in soon." John told me as calmly as he could. I nodded and did as I was told, taking the bag with me. When I was inside, an older woman was just coming down the stairs. She gave me a big, warm smile and wrapped me in a hug.
"Hello, dear! I'm Mrs. Hudson, the landlady. I'm so excited to meet you! Even before this whole mess, John would occasionally tell me about his adorable little niece and how he couldn't wait to see her again."
"Well, I'm glad good things have been said." I told her honestly, hugging the old woman back. As I stepped away, I told her, "It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Hudson. Do I go upstairs?"
"Oh, you'll be in this room down here. It's not really a bedroom, more like a mini-basement, but John has been working hard in there to clean it up for you."
"O-oh. How nice." I smiled genuinely at her. It felt a bit out-of-the-ordinary for someone to put a lot of effort into things for me, but it was a good feeling. One I hadn't had in a while. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Will you always be around?"
"As long as I'm alive." With that, she scurried on back to whatever she had to do.
Carefully, I walked towards my new room and opened the door. It was painted green inside and the decorations were mostly light pinks. I went over to my new bed that had a plaid and floral quilt on it that wouldn't get too hot in the summer but would be warm enough for winter. The mattress itself was light and squishy, which would be easy to sleep on. The whole room made me grin and I couldn't wait to see the upstairs.
I ran out of my room excitedly and bolted up the stairs. The walls on the stairs were so old fashioned, but I loved it. It was like house from The Velveteen Rabbit. When I reached the top of the stairs, I slowly opened the door to find books upon books upon books. On the mantel of the fireplace, there was also a skull, but I found it more charming than anything. When I walked in, I ran my hand across some of the book spines, my worries about coming being long gone.
"It's considered rude not to say hello when you enter a room." A voice suddenly boomed from behind me. I gave a light screech and turned to see a man in light blue pajamas lying on the couch.
"M-My apologies! I-I-I didn't see you!"
He rolled his silver eyes. "Obviously." He literally jumped up from the couch and began walking towards me, his hands behind his back. "You must be Alice, John Watson's niece."
"Th-that I am." I answered as confidently as I could, but being alone with a strange man who possibly had some form of insanity and was walking towards me did not help that.
When he got within a meter of me, I began stepping back some. At this, he stopped, the realization dawning on him. "Are you scared of me?"
"Wouldn't you be scared if you were in my place?"
He took several steps back. "I suppose. My apologies, Ms. Alice." My name rolled off his tongue like a disease, earning a glare from me.
"Who do you even think you are?"
He smirked. "Sherlock Holmes. The world's only consulting detective."
I didn't even try to hide my shock. "You are Sherlock Holmes?"
"You sound surprised."
"You're a 30-something year-old man in light blue pajamas despite that it's 15:39."
"You don't believe me then?"
"Give me one reason to."
He began scanning over me before speaking. "You've had that dress for many years and is probably the only one you own since it is getting a bit worn out. You know more the world than you let on through your innocent demeanor and have vowed to keep it that way for as long as possible. Based off your immediate fascination with the books, you probably were not given the opportunity to read as often as you wished. Your hair's ends are splitting, indicating that you were not taken as good of care as you needed, but being as you are still full of wonder it's clear that you didn't know any different. You have eyes that are wise past your years even if you choose to ignore that wisdom for that sake of being a child while you can."
My eyes narrowed a bit at him. "Alright. So you can read me like a book. What can you tell about my life?"
He scoffed. "John has told me plenty about your family."
"I'm not asking my family. I'm asking about life in general."
He scanned me once more before nodding to himself. "Your classmates whispered amongst themselves about how weird you are for reading every chance you get from the school library. They often avoid discussion with you and you don't have any friends, but you don't mind. You don't like anyone in your school anyway since you were the only one given a scholarship to the prestigious school and everyone else is stuck up. They think that they're the ones ignoring you, but in truth you ignore them. As for your family, you tell those that you're fine with how things are so that they don't get overly angry like John has been since hearing that you were coming. You've actually tried saving up money to buy things yourself, but your mother has always found your stash and used it for drinking. Shall I go on?"
"You're an arse, you know that?"
"Tsk. That's not something a child should be saying."
"You're acting just as much like a child, Mr. Holmes."
"Child? You think I'm like a child?"
"As I child myself, I know it." He began pouting, clearly wanting to explode at me. "Hm. Enough of an adult not to yell at me. Good job."
The door opened as Sherlock responded with, "At least I'm not a bratty little girl!"
"Sherlock!" John yelled at the man-child. "She was just taken from her mother and now you call her a bratty child?! Do you have no tact?!"
"Your niece has been-"
"He started his anger towards me because I came in and didn't notice him."
"SHERLOCK!"
"It was rude!"
"Oh yes, I mistakenly didn't see you and that's rude, but everything you said on purpose wasn't."
"You wanted proof that I was really Sherlock Holmes!"
"You didn't have to be cruel about it!"
"Would you both shut up?!" John yelled at us. The door slowly entered once more to reveal Isaac. He looked like a child walking in on an argument.
"Should I sit outside while you work this out?"
"Yes." Sherlock answered before John could.
"N- NO! Sherlock, grow up! No, Isaac, come in."
I rolled my eyes. "I thought I was the thirteen year old."
