The Past, The Present and Perhaps a Future
Chapter One: Meeting the Mrs.
Thoughts
If someone had told John Watson that Sherlock Holmes would be stunned silent at the sight of a woman, (a fully dressed one at that) he would have laughed and called shenanigans, had he not been there to witness it first hand.
Sure, the woman standing in the doorway was achingly beautiful, with a thinly veiled hint of danger, much like Irene Adler had. However while Irene was classically British, this woman was more of a multicultural exotic gem.
Espresso locks were razor sharp in that angled bob that so many women tried yet few could pull off, this mystery woman pulled it off in spades. Large almond shaped orbs hinted at an Asian bloodline, however their striking green color set against a soft caramel tan, made it hard to guess.
Her lips, full and lipstick free curved into a smirk, "Flattering to know I can still render you speechless," her smirk melted into a genuine smile, "Hello Sherly," her eyes sparkled, "It's been a while." Her American accent threw John for another loop, he wasn't aware Sherlock had any Yank friends.
The use of his long forgotten nickname shook the consulting detective out of his stupor, "What can I help you with?" His blasé mask returning, tone curt.
"Can't an old friend pop in to say hello?" she slipped her gloves off and placed them in the pocket of her coat as she looked around.
John watched with interest as Sherlock's eyes narrowed in at the simple gold wedding band adorning the woman's ring finger.
"Considering said friend" he nearly growled, "died over a decade ago, no." he gave her a pointed look before glancing out the window, feigning boredom.
John was now more confused and intrigued than ever, whomever this woman was, she had known Sherlock back in what the man had referred to as his "Lost Days".
"Well, since Sherly here is horrible with manners," John began in that tone that let Sherlock know he was doing something 'not good', before smiling at the woman, "John Watson, pleased to meet you."
The unnamed beauty smiled, "Charmed to meet you Dr. Watson," she shook his hand, "My name is Talis."
"Talis?" John repeated, "That's an, interesting name." What is it with Sherlock's people and strange names? Sherlock, Mycroft, and now Talis?
Sherlock rolled his eyes, but she just chuckled.
"What do you want Talis?" Sherlock's voice was harsh, but John heard the hitch when he said her name. "And for God's sake, drop the accent, it's absolutely grating." John could tell the emotions that Sherlock claimed to not have were boiling just beneath the surface and it was taking everything the detective had to not explode.
Nodding once Talis continued in what John supposed was her normal vernacular, perfectly posh and well intoned Queen's English.
"I came to talk to you." She didn't back down from his ire, "Alone."
John took that as his cue to leave, but Sherlock's voice stopped him , "Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of John."
Raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow Talis shrugged, "Suit yourself," she sat down gracefully in Sherlock's chair, a challenge burning in her eyes, "Do you remember what I said to you the day I left?"
Sherlock gave her a look that clearly meant, I have an eidetic memory, of course I remember. "Only that you were done with drugs and wanted to get clean. You wanted me to come with you." He feigned disinterest.
"Care to make an educated guess on why I so suddenly wanted to quit?" her sharp eyes focused on the detective with hawk-like precision. "Had you been in your right mind at the time, you might have figured it out." She taunted, obviously knowing a secret that she had managed to hide from Sherlock all this time.
John watched as Sherlock retreated to his mind palace, clearly annoyed at her implication he had missed anything, much less something that required her to reappear after a decade.
"By the time you cleaned up, I was declared dead, no need to dwell on why I left until now." She smiled sadly as a look of understanding passed over his face, his eyes widening slightly as a silent conversation took place between the two.
John watched, wondering what the hell they were wordlessly saying to one another. Perhaps it was because they had both faked their deaths that they were able to communicate without speaking… either way, it was driving him bonkers not knowing.
"John, it's rude of you to not have offered our guest a beverage," Sherlock grabbed John's coat and threw it at the good doctor, "She'll take a latte with two sugars." Sherlock practically shoved him out the door. Apparently whatever she had to say couldn't be said in front of him.
Sighing to himself he headed out into the early February afternoon, heading for the nearest Costa.
"Why now?" Sherlock rounded on Talis once he heard the front door close. "Why wait all this time?" his eyes were ice cold, a million thoughts running through his brilliant mind as he scrutinized her, seeking evidence to support her unspoken claim.
However she hadn't removed her coat and that blasted Belstaff made it impossible to see her properly. Taking in what he could see of her, he noted traitorously that she had aged well, aside from a tiredness in her eyes, she didn't look much older than he had remembered her.
"Frankly, I didn't think you were ready." She remarked flippantly, studying her nails, the soft periwinkle color suited her perfectly. "I've been keeping tabs on you Sherly, and I've got to say our dear doctors Watson and Hooper have been a good influence on you." Her eyes softened, "They humanize you, despite your constant attempts to prove them otherwise." She winked.
Sherlock's frown deepened, "They've been in my life for nearly 6 years now," he stalked over to her, pressing her back into his chair, his hands resting on the back, effectively pining her in place. "Why now?" he reiterated deeply.
She didn't even bat an eye, further frustrating the world's only consulting detective; most people would be simpering sniveling messes by now, but not Talis. She was a cool and collected as ever, it drove him nuts.
"Simple," her emerald eyes glittered up at him, "Moriarty's network and The Woman are no longer in the picture." Sherlock's eyebrows rose but he said nothing so she continued, "I didn't like her Sherly, she was too much like me…" she leaned closer to him, delicate fingers tracing his exposed collar bone, "Although, that would explain your attraction to her." Soft lips grazed his cheek as her sweet warm breath ghosted over his skin.
Sherlock ripped himself away from her touch when he realized his eyes had shut of their own volition when the hell did that happen?! He couldn't think properly with her molesting him, although he did note in the traitorous recesses of his mind that his body clearly hadn't forgotten her touch, despite its' decade long absence.
He found that fact both fascinating and infuriating.
"Stop calling me Sherly." He put more distance between them, eyes narrowing when Talis giggled, clearly enjoying the effect she still had on him. "And I don't believe you, there's no way you'd show up all of a sudden," his mind raced for reasons for her appearance, "unless you were…" he trailed off as her smiled faded and she looked away, in the early afternoon light he could see the heaviness he had mistook for tiredness in her eyes. There's always something.
"Gold star Mr. Holmes, gold star." She returned her gaze to him, resignation lingering in their depths as she handed him a file that had been tucked into her coat. "Congestive heart failure." She stood and headed to the window as he looked over the file, "Apparently all our years of drugging and partying have finally caught up with me." She sighed, "I've seen some of the best cardiologist in the world, I have the heart of a 90 year old. I always said I was an old soul, guess I was an old heart as well." She chuckled bitterly.
"Best estimates have me lasting another year, perhaps two. Worst case, end of the year." She turned to face him again. "I debated coming here, debating telling you… but it's the right thing to do. I had to let you know."
Sherlock poured over the file, eyes searching for some piece of redeeming news, some shred of hope, but there were none.
"No." he slammed the file closed and grabbed his coat.
"No?" she quirked her head to the side.
"No." he slipped on his coat with such a flourish it made Talis smile. Grabbing his scarf he took her hand and pulled her downstairs. Talis was used to him and his moods, and knew that resistance was futile, so she let him pull her along.
They exited onto the street just as John was returning.
Batting the coffee aside John barely had time to protest before he was shoved unceremoniously into the recently arrived taxi. Sherlock pulled Talis in behind him, free hand texting rapidly before ordering the driver to St. Barts.
"What's going on?" John was utterly confused, as they raced through London.
Talis sighed, even though she was secretly touched, "Sherly's about to waste our time."
Without looking up from his phone, Sherlock grumbled, "My name is Sherlock."
John chuckled when Talis stuck her tongue out, knowing she was probably the only person on the planet who could get away with calling him Sherly.
Used to being in the dark until Sherlock felt like sharing John sat back and closed his eyes, completely missing the fact that Sherlock's hand was still entwined with Talis'.
Upon arriving at Bart's Sherlock handed John the file, "Disprove her diagnosis if you will, I'll be in the lab."
"Sherlock, I don't have privalleges here!" John hollered after him.
"Mycroft!" was the only response as he disappeared down the hall.
Sighing in annoyed resignation John smiled at Talis before looking at her file.
Holmes, Talis Ainsley
Double checking the name he looked at Talis surprised etched on his face, "Holmes?" he squeaked, causing her to fight a smile as she nodded once. "A cousin?" he asked knowing it wasn't likely, but unable to comprehend the more likely if unbelievable reason she would share the Holmes name.
This time it was Talis who sighed as she looked down the corridor Sherlock disappeared down, "No," she shook her head, "my name is Talis Ainsley Holmes, wife of that great git known as William Sherlock Scott Holmes."
Molly jumped as the doors to her lab crashed open. Looking up she was surprised to see Sherlock looking more unglued than she had ever seen him, which considering she had been there when he died was saying a lot.
He registered her presence a mere second later and instantly the walls were back up, "Molly," he nodded in greeting.
"What's wrong?" she approached him cautiously, but he just shook his head.
They had grown to be friends since his death and subsequent resurrection, and she had learned when to push and when to wait for him to come to her. "New case?" she switched to a less invasive topic.
Removing his coat, his eyes conveyed his thanks at her for not prodding, "Nothing at the moment."
Nodding in understanding, Molly handed him a draft of her newest experiment, "No John today?"
Sherlock looked over her thesis on Chimera DNA, grateful for the distraction, "He's upstairs running a few tests," he handed the paperwork back, "Show me."
"I'm sorry – wife?" John looked at her incredulously.
Talis laughed at his perplexed expression, "Well technically Talis Ainsley Holmes died about 10 years ago, but yes for all intensive purposes my name is Talis Holmes, wife of Sherlock Holmes."
John nodded even though he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the information.
"Wife?" he mouthed the world, and Talis just smiled, obviously amused by his reaction. Still in shock he barely registered the chime of his mobile.
Yes wife, now get to work
-SH
"Come along Dr. Watson," Talis led him down the hall towards the cardiology department, "You know what kind of tantrums he can thrown when he doesn't get his way."
John could do nothing but follow.
Wife?!
A couple of hours passed before John and a mystery woman entered the lab, one look at John and Sherlock's entire demeanor changed, "No."
John look downright devastated while the woman simply looked resigned.
"I'm sorry Sherlock."
The detective nodded once before sweeping dramatically out of the room, John hot on his heels.
"He's such a drama queen." The brunette beauty giggled, drawing Molly's attention.
Molly smiled politely while trying to figure out who this unknown woman was.
Verdant eyes turned on the shy pathologist, "You must be Dr. Hooper." The beauty stepped forward, extending a perfectly manicured hand.
"You-you, know who I am?" Molly cursed her stutter.
"You Molly Hooper, are Sherlock Holmes' savior," Talis' eyes radiated truth and sincerity. "And for that I'll be eternally grateful."
Molly blushed, "It was nothing, really."
The unnamed woman didn't let go of her hand, "He might pretend he's a robot, but he does feel," her gaze was piercing, much like Sherlock's however, unlike the great detective, her gaze didn't make people feel uneasy, "He pretends he doesn't understand feelings when in fact he feels them more than most, which is why he chooses for the most part, to ignore them." Her gaze softened, "You mean a lot to him Molly Hooper, he might never be able to put how he feels into words like normal people," at that they both shared a smile, "but don't ever, EVER doubt that you mean a great deal to him." She squeezed Molly's hand before letting it go.
"Must you always doddle?" Came Sherlock's exasperated voice as the pair turned to see him waiting impatiently at the door.
"I wasn't aware my presence was required oh dramatic one." The beauty rolled her eyes playfully but headed towards Sherlock none the less. Before she reached the doors she turned, "I'd like to get to know you better Dr. Hooper, what do you say you come round for dinner? 7pm, Baker Street?" She didn't give Molly a chance to answer, "Great, see you then!" and with that she disappeared out the doors, leaving Molly staring wide eyed at mildly annoyed Sherlock.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed and Molly prepared to be dismissed, "Knowing her, she'll make coq au vine, do be a dear and bring a bottle or two of wine." And with that he too swept away, leaving Molly to wonder if she had dreamt the whole exchange.
Moments later her mobile chimed.
You're not dreaming, do be on time Molly, she abhors tardiness.
-SH
Molly sat heavily in her chair, not a dream then.
It wasn't until she was heading home that she realized she still had no idea who the mystery woman was.
So, I'm new to the whole Sherlock phenom, and quite thankfully too... Probably would have gone insane waiting for season 3, don't know how you lot who were there from the beginning have managed!
Anyway, I watched an interview with Benedict who mentioned that he thinks Sherlock is the way he is emotionally because he had been so irreparably hurt in the past that he shuts everyone out in order to not feel that way again, this is my exploration of that.
I ship Sherlolly, so yes, this will eventually become the Good Ship Sherlollypop, but be warned there will be a lot of angst before they get to sail off into the sunset.
Talis is pronounced Talice, like Alice with a T. If you're wondering what she looks like, check my avatar out.
Also, I'm still not sold on the title... Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!
Hope you guys enjoy it!
Getting2KnowL
=10212013=
PS. All mistakes are mine, I don't have a beta, if anyone is willing to help that'd be brilliant!
Also, I don't own any of the characters associated with Sherlock, they belong to Sir Doyle, Mr. Moffat and Mr. Gatiss... I do however own Talis.