The Running Girl
Every day right at 3 in the afternoon John had noticed something new happening on Baker Street. A young woman running down the street right past 221B. She sported purple jogging capri's, a green shirt, and blue and purple running shoes. She always seemed to glance up at the door of the flat but John thought nothing of it.
One day when John was particularly bored and waiting for Sherlock, he stared out the window. He felt that something was off, glanced at his watch, and then back out to the street. It was 3 o clock. The girl wasn't anywhere in sight. Twenty more minutes passed. Sherlock always took forever to get ready for a dinner out. Where is she?
"Strange.." he mumbled to himself.
"What is?" Sherlock asked turning the collar of his shirt down and fixing his cuffs as he walked in the room.
"Hm? Oh just something I noticed. There's a woman runs down the street every day. Has for the last month. But today," he looked at his watch again, 3:30. "She hasn't shown."
"She could be ill? Injured? Murdered?" Sherlock almost sounded happy with the last option. That's what he needed was a good murder. Ever since Moriarty's face showed up on every screen in England, it had been quiet. Not one interesting murder. John figured Sherlock was right as he almost always is and they grabbed their coats and walked downstairs to the door. Sherlock stepped out into the crisp winter air as John said goodbye to Mrs. Hudson. Just then the running girl came into view. Sherlock noticed out of the corner of his eye and turned in her direction. He acted as if he was watching for a cab but kept his eye on her as well. She kept her gaze down and slowed to a walk as she approached them. John closed the door behind him and stood on the steps watching her. She glanced up and locked eyes with Sherlock just for a moment. She passed between them looking back down. When she was well past them she sped up to a run again and turned the corner disappearing out of site. Sherlock watched after her, obviously put off by their exchange.
"You alright?" John asked.
"Fine." Sherlock watched a little longer seemingly lost in his thoughts but then pulled back to reality. He waved a cab down and they got in.
"You're sure you're alright?" John said skeptically.
"Yes I'm fine." Sherlock snapped irritably, looking out the window of the cab. John didn't believe him but decided not to push any further for now. They still had to go by his and Mary's flat to pick up the mother-to-be and get to the restaurant. Mary was so close to having the baby, John almost hated going out. What if she went into labor in the middle of the restaurant? I'm a doctor I shouldn't be worried. I know how to handle these things." He thought. He still couldn't shake his anxiety, though.
His worst fears were realized. Right after they ordered, Mary's water broke. They rushed to the hospital and quickly made it to a room and got Mary comfortable. Sherlock, not wanting to be in a hospital ward full of screaming women and crying newborns, took his leave. He arrived home at 221B Baker Street to see someone sitting on his doorstep.
Sherlock smirked. "I figured I'd see you tonight."