Disclaimer: Do not own
2012
It had been twenty minutes since Heather first stopped across the street from 221B Baker St. She wanted to charge across the street and into the flat that Sherlock lives-used to live in but felt like there was something holding her back. She started to turn away but stopped while clenching the keys in her hand hard enough for the metal to cut into her skin. Growling, Heather turned back towards 221B and started across the street. Pausing at the door she took a deep breath before unlocking it and stepping inside. She heard no noise from the flat above but she knew that its now only inhabitant was at home. With a sigh Heather started up the stairs taking them two at a time thinking "This is going to be hard."
John was sitting in his armchair and staring at Sher-his empty one in front of him. He knew he should get up and eat something because it was close to lunch time and he couldn't remember the last time that he ate but he didn't feel like getting up. John heard the front door open then somebody sighing and making their way up the stairs. Thinking it was Lestrade he called out "I am fine. You don't have to keep checking up on me." He was startled when a female voice replied "I hope you forgive me that I call you out on that bit of bullshit Capt-Doctor Watson." Turning, expecting for it to be Mycroft's assistant Anthea, John was surprised to see a young woman in black combat boots, rolled up dark jeans, a blue tee-shirt and an army green jacket with a backpack over her left shoulder. He glared at her as she made her way into the room while shrugging off her backpack.
"Who are you?" he questioned bluntly.
She gave him a sad smile and replied "A friend of Sherlock's. I thought it was past time we met. I would have come earlier but the British government wouldn't let me."
John looked confused "As far as I knew I am-was Sher-his only friend." his voice breaking on Sherlock's name.
She frowned slightly and said "Well maybe friend is the wrong word…" and then quickly put her hands up in a placating way when she saw John start to tense "a better word would be family but we are not blood related."
At the word family John stood up angrily glaring at her "FAMILY! Then where the hell were you when he needed his family!"
She glared right back at him and put her hands on her hips "I already told you the British government WOULDN'T LET ME!" John opened his mouth to yell back at her when a creak on the stairs and a slight tap alerted them to another person entering the flat. "Oh great speak of the devil." She muttered.
Heather glared toward the doorway "Go away Mycroft! Haven't you done enough damage to my family?!" Mycroft calmly stepped into the room and held her glare with a calm stare. John was still looking at Heather with a confused and angry look when she said "Get the hell out before I give you a second black eye to match the one I gave you earlier." Quickly turning to look at Mycroft John gave a start at the man's face. Mycroft's left eye was sporting an extremely vivid black eye that was a great contrast with the pale nature of his face.
"I assure you that will not be necessary. I am only here to deliver my brother's will to his chosen executor." John collapsed into his chair at Mycroft's words.
Heather stalked over to Mycroft and tore the folder out of his grasp "There your task is done now get out." She said.
Mycroft sighed "Elizabeth…"
"My name is Heather, Mycroft and you know it." She snapped at him.
A look of annoyance passed over his face "Heather, I am only trying to…" he started to say when Heather interrupted him "what you think is right. Well, right now is a time for emotion something you Holmes boys have trouble with so I am saving you the trouble. Leave. Now. "
Mycroft sighed and gave Heather a look. Her blue gold eyes softened and she smirked back, and in answer to an unspoken question she said "Of course." Mycroft then turned and left the flat. Heather looked down at the folder in her hands and sighed. Then she turned and kneeled in front of John's armchair and gave him a searching look. John looked shell-shocked, distraught and angry. She reached out and grasped his right shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He met her searching worried glance with a look of confusion and then suspicion. Heather smiled and said "Let's get some food in you and then I'll explain as best I can." With another reassuring squeeze she stood and went into the kitchen and started looking through the cabinets. Heather came back into the living room with an annoyed huff and then turned toward the stairs and bellowed "MRS. HUDSON!" John jumped at the sound of her loud voice. Seeing him jump out of the corner of her eye Heather turned and gave him a wink.
Mrs. Hudson came marching into the flat yelling shrilly "Who are you?"
Heather smiled and replied "Hi, sorry for shouting. My name is Heather and I was wondering if you had any food you could rustle up for lunch; I'm afraid John doesn't have anything edible and he needs to eat."
Mrs. Hudson's eyes softened "Of course I have something for him just give me a tick."
"Perfect." Heather said "I'll make us some tea."
Forty minutes later John, Mrs. Hudson and Heather were seated in the living room of 221B drinking tea. Heather fidgeted with her cup until John put down his mug and said "I think it's about time for you to start explaining things."