I'm not Lonely
A/N:
This is a disclaimer that Sherlock doesn't belong to me, but to the BBC and Arthur Conan Doyle.
Chapter One
There were very few people that had her private phone number. Even so, Lady Smallwood frowned as she saw the name of the individual on the screen of her smartphone before she answered her mobile.
"Hello Mr Holmes. What is it?" she wondered. It was evening and she was just thinking of having dinner. Unfortunately serving Queen and Country often didn't allow her the luxury of regular hours.
"Some time ago, you offered to buy me a drink. Is that offer still open?" he asked.
"Of course it is. Where and when?" Lady Smallwood wondered.
"I have a car waiting outside your house now. There's a nice wine bar in Kensington that comes highly recommended." he told her.
"Just give me ten minutes." Lady Smallwood replied.
"Of course. I will see you shortly." Mr Holmes stated, then hung up.
Lady Smallwood looked in the mirror at her serviceable black dress. There was nothing wrong with it per say. But Kensington was a posh area, so she would need something a little more stylish. She soon decided on an ankle length green dress and grey jacket. She changed into that, went to the toilet, and then reapplied her lipstick. Then she grabbed her handbag and headed out of her house. It only took a moment to lock the house and arm the security system before she walked down to the pavement to see one of Mr Holmes's black cars. She got in the back and then closed the door. Mr Holmes sat on the other side. He gestured to the driver once she had put on her seatbelt and they drove off. She examined Mr Holmes, who looked immaculate as usual in a navy three piece suit.
"You're wondering why I asked for a drink with you tonight, are you not?" he stated. She nodded, used to him being able to read everyone like a book by now. They had known each other for years after all.
"Today I had to tell Mummy and Daddy that my sister is still alive. I had thought it was a kindness to tell them she was dead because they would not wish to know just how dangerous and amoral she is. But they claimed that despite everything she was still their daughter and that I should have told them the truth. Then they called Sherlock the grown up one. He might be stable at the moment, but I can recall when that was certainly not the case." Mr Holmes stated slowly. She sighed.
"Compared to your brother, you are the more stable one Mr Holmes. But he is the more emotional one, and that is the value your mother feels is more important then anything else. Will you take your parents out to Sherrinford to see your sister?" Lady Smallwood wondered.
"Yes. I've scheduled a time three weeks from now, which is the soonest I'm available." he answered.
"Are you nervous about seeing her again after what happened the last time you saw your sister?" she wondered. He turned to look more closely at her.
"What precisely do you know about that?" he demanded.
"Very little. I had heard about the explosion at Baker Street. I must confess I was momentarily worried until I realized that all three of you can look after yourselves. Even so, I led the investigation into how that drone and grenade got into your brother's flat. We concluded it could only be the work of your sister, who had been posing as Doctor Watson's therapist. I knew you would head to Sherrinford with your brother and Doctor Watson to check on her. I was told there were video tapes of what happened there, but I ordered them deleted without anyone viewing them. Whatever happened between the four of you, no one else needed to know. But DI Lestrade warned me you appeared unusually shaken after you had been returned to your house. It isn't my place to pry into your private affairs unless you choose to tell me or they impact national security. I'm your colleague Mr Holmes, and we've worked together well over the years. I have every desire to maintain a close working relationship." she explained.
"I see. But then why did you invite me for a drink?" he asked.
"Because no one, not even you, is an island. This job is important and vital, but it isolates you because you can't talk about what you know, what you've done, or what you've seen. You've never sought out any companionship other then your brother, but he does not care about you as much as you do about him. Your relationship with your parents is strained at best, and Doctor Watson doesn't trust you after your brother faked his death. When you aren't working, you are sleeping or spending your time alone. I know what that's like. I've been alone since my husband's death. Most days it doesn't bother me, but there are times when I'm reminded of how much I miss him. I'm one of the few people you can talk candidly with, and that's why I offered to buy you a drink." she answered. He nodded.
"So you wanted to be my friend? I don't have friends." he scoffed.
"Then why did you accept my offer of a drink?" she asked. He looked at her for a long moment in silence.
"Perhaps friend is the wrong word. Would companion suit you, Lady Smallwood?" he wondered. She knew he didn't mean that in the romantic sense, and neither did she.
"It would indeed. So tell me about this wine bar in Kensington. How pretentious is it?" she wondered.
He smiled slightly, then gave her an overview of the establishment and the menu. Lady Smallwood sat back and just listened to him talk. Mr Holmes didn't let almost anyone into his life, so she felt privileged to be one of the few who he let past his formidable defences. Mr Holmes might not be good with people, but she'd met far worse individuals, Lady Smallwood concluded.