My first one finally going up! If you don't like it, give me suggestions to make it better!
I don't own Sherlock.
Someone was moving into 221C Baker street. Well, not just anyone, a young girl by the name of Storm Cosmo. To Sherlock it was obvious she was using an alias but Ms. Hudson clearly hadn't noticed or was choosing not to see it. Either way Sherlock felt a great sense of unease around her. John had warned him earlier that day before going to the mortuary that Storm would be there when he got home, he had also warned him not to talk to her. Sherlock wasn't one for abiding by Johns silly rules but today after rapping up two cases he was feeling good and didn't want to spoil it by arguing with his friend. He put his key in the door and turned, letting himself in. The girl was shifting boxes from the entrance of 221C and taking them down to the room where Carl Powers shoes once sat waiting for him. Sherlock put his hands in his pockets and made a mental note to himself before climbing the stairs to their flat.
_SC
She was a pleasant lady to say the least. While her and the military man, John, had been moving her small dresser and flimsy single bed down into her room she had made them tea. Ms. Hudson was her name. Drinking their tea she perched on the dresser listening to John talk about his flatmate, Sherlock. The more he spoke the more interested she became about the man. When Storm finally managed to convince John she was quite capable of moving her remaining assets he left, much to her pleasure. But not without warning her first about Sherlock's blunt and rude tendencies. This suited her just fine, she only kept this façade to keep out of the attention of people around her. She could tell her stay was going to be more interesting than once expected.
John stood at the bottom of the stairs listening to the sound of Sherlock thinking before continuing toward the flat. Struggling through the doorway with an armload of shopping John sighed deeply as he caught a glimpse of Sherlock standing at the window composing.
"Tea? Sherlock?" He said not expecting a reply. After a few moments Sherlock put down his violin.
"Please."
John smiled. "I got food while I was out."
"Thank you for stating the obvious John." Sherlock replied with an eye roll. "How long did you say she was staying for?"
Frown lines touched Johns face. "A few weeks but like I said before, you're not to speak to her. I said no, just control yourself, for once." He added the last sentence when Sherlock looked like he was going to interrupt.
Sherlock strode around the room twice before he came to a decision. John was not going to like it either.
"Ms. Hudson! You and the girl are invited to dinner. Six thirty please." Sherlock turned to meet Johns glare from his chair.
"Are you sure Sherlock? Its six fifteen." She called back.
Frustrated he turned back to the doorway. "Well, seven thirty then!" And he slammed the door.
"Sherlock." John said in a stern voice and when he was met with silence he continued, "Sherlock, what the HELL are you doing? What did we not justdiscuss?"
"Bonding John, bonding. Gives the building a sense of… community. And there was no discussion." Before John could speak Sherlock announced: "You will need to go to the store, get one of those cooked chicken things," He waved his hand in distaste. "And the stuff you eat with it."
"But I've already done shopping!" John started and was cut off almost immediately.
"No John, you brought things that could be classified as snacks not a meal and that is what our guests will be expecting." Sherlock sat down as John sighed, giving into him once again and pulling on his coat.
"Twice, Sherlock. I've gone shopping twice now! Next time we need food, you can go get it." John dumped the bags on the table before thinking better of it. "You could have at least set the table while I was gone!"
"Mmhh." Sherlock put down the death section of the paper he was reading. "Shopping is dull."
After moving the groceries onto the bench John started unpacking and plating pre-made salads he brought along with a hot chicken. "How would you know? It's not like you've ever done it."
"Hold that thought John," Sherlock turned to the door. "Mycroft, nice to see you," Sarcasm dripped off the last words. "Now leave, no one wants to hear what you have to say." He rose and left for his bedroom.
"What a way to greet his brother huh?" Mycroft entered the flat.
"Um, so, what is it?" John asked awkwardly.
"Just came to check up on him." Mycroft was still looking at Sherlock's closed door. "You'll need to be here tonight John. Tonight's a night."
"What?" Johns expression changed as he understood what he was being told. "You think he'd do it? Tonight I mean?"
"Why else would I say anything? Watch him John." Mycroft's last comment was sickly serious, he left abruptly and John watched from the window as the older Holmes brother walked away from 221B Baker street.