Okay I'm a big fan of Sherlock and since the third season just ended I thought I'd write an idea I had to keep me entertained throughout hiatus. You know those fanfics you always look for? I've always had one in my min but couldn't find the right one so I just decided to write it myself. I haven't written a non-Marvel fanfic before so here goes, but really it's just a creative outlet for me, I'm not a great Sherlock fanfic writer. Anyway, this story takes place probably in middle of series 2 where mostly everything is established. However in my story, Irene Adler doesn't exist. I love her in the series and all other works, but my character is so much like her and I didn't think it would work with two similar characters for obvious reasons. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
''That's that man over there,''
''Where? What man?''
''The man I was telling you about. He can solve any crime. I went to him once about my car when it was stolen and he told me who did it in five minutes! He's on the telly sometimes.''
The two elderly ladies gossiped about the man over their coffee, looking over to him occasionally to make sure he couldn't hear them, although if he was as smart as they were claiming, he would have known. The woman next to them flipped the page of the daily paper, rolling her eyes subtly every time the women would continue their praise of the detective.
Sherlock Holmes stared out the window of the small cafe, scanning the streets for an unknown reason. That's what it looked like to other people, that he was searching for something, but he was just observant.
''The prices have gone up,''
''Divorce,''
John looked over to his friend, confused.
''Sorry?''
''The divorce,'' Sherlock repeated as if he should already know. ''The owner, he's going through a divorce with his power hungry wife who changed suppliers without telling him therefore forcing prices to rise to make a profit resulting in loss of loyal customers. Wife one, husband zero,''
John gave an impressed nod and continued looking over his choices on the menu as Sherlock swapped his study of the street outside to the people inside the cafe. Everyone was absorbed in their own world, eating or drinking, chatting with their friends or reading a book peacefully, but Sherlock knew almost everything about them all from the one glance it took to move past them. Then he saw her. Charlotte. Her wavy brown hair sitting just above her shoulders, acting completely oblivious to his presence and sipping at a cup of tea.
It had been over a year since his first encounter with her. It was odd being in the same room with her when she didn't have a gun pointed toward him or blood stained on her hands. There was a point to her being here, this was no coincidence. However after a group of customers walked past her table, she was no longer there.
''What?'' John asked as Sherlock stood up, alert. ''What's going on?''
Sherlock didn't want John following after him. Whatever this woman was here for, it had to do with matters created before John began assisting him with cases.
''Nothing, nothing at all,'' he lied. ''Won't be a moment,''
John already knew he was lying, Sherlock was never this pleasant when excusing himself. In fact he never excused himself.
Sherlock walked outside and pulled his coat on, looking around the corners, scanning for any sign of her. She was gone, but he knew she wouldn't be far. It only took him walking down the lane behind the cafe to find her. She was leaning back on the brick wall smoking a cigarette, ignoring the fact he was walking closer to her. He slipped his hands into his pocket and leaned back on the brick wall opposite her, mimicking her position as she looked over to him with a smirk.
''So this is what you do with your day now?'' she finally spoke, blowing smoke in his direction.
''And this is what you do with yours?''
Charlotte reached over and held out a pack of cigarettes for him to take one, noticing his obvious hesitation. She didn't move though, and soon enough Sherlock relented, lighting the white stick of tobacco.
''No case today?'' she asked casually.
''I have one pending,'' he looked over to her curiously, enjoying the smoke that he breathed in. ''Why are you here?''
''There always has to be a motive with you, doesn't there?'' she shook her head. ''I could be on a holiday,''
''Unlikely. You couldn't entertain yourself for more than five minutes,''
''Maybe that's why I'm here then, for entertainment,'' she shrugged. ''See what London has to offer,''
Sherlock didn't know what she was thinking or what she was planning to do, and he had always narrowed that down to why he was so interested in her. She rarely had a motive, she did things because she could and she worked alone, much like he used to.
Their paths crossed on a case over a year ago, and it had been a while since their last short reunion on another dangerous endeavor they'd managed to link together. Charlotte had no family and no friends, preferring to be alone for the most part, and so he struggled to understand why she would be here if there wasn't a reason. A serious reason. But he knew she wouldn't tell him if he acted curious or asked, so he ignored it for now.
''The people here really like you,'' she told him, referring to the women's conversation inside. ''Obviously you don't socialize much,''
Her wit always reminded him of Mycroft, except he sometimes enjoyed her taunts more than his brother's.
''I don't have time or patience to socialize,'' he took the cigarette from his mouth. ''Married to my work, you know that,''
''As am I,'' she shrugged. ''Yet I socialize just fine,''
''You forget you're talking to a high-''
''High functioning sociopath, I'm aware,'' she rolled her eyes. ''We're all aware,''
They stood in silence for a short while until Charlotte threw her cigarette butt on the ground, stepping on top of it and twisting it with her shoe. She looked around the corners of the small lane there were in, happy that no one else was around. Sherlock noted her caution but said nothing of it, he'd find out what was going on soon enough, when he had time to process it all.
''Well, nice seeing you Sherlock,'' Charlotte smiled over to him. ''I best be going, there's an apartment awaiting my approval,''
That caught his attention.
''Here? You're staying?''
''Of course I'm staying, I can't take in all of London in one day, what sort of holiday would that be?''
This was odd. Charlotte had never stayed in one place for longer than a few hours or overnight at most. Finding an apartment in London wasn't something she would do if she was on a holiday, in fact she would never take a holidays. Nothing added up, and he became more curious as to what she was actually doing here.
''Where are you staying?'' he asked, assuming she would have no connections around here.
''Why? Care to visit?'' she looked over to him playfully. ''I know an old lady, sweet thing she is, she offered me a place to stay and wouldn't take no for an answer. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll see each other again soon, Sherlock,''
Sherlock watched as Charlotte walked away down the street, wrapping herself in her black coat and slipping her hands into her pocket as she became further away. He needed to know why she was here. It was something important, something big, and he could tell there was a hint of fear in her eyes as she looked around each corner and every face she passed. If she was scared of something, he knew she was involved in something big.
John had been wondering all afternoon what had taken Sherlock's attention this morning at the cafe. It wasn't unusual for him to do odd things like get up and walk out of a room suddenly, but the look on his face told John something was going on. However, when his friend returned, nothing more was said and things carried on as usual with John reading out cases they could choose from to investigate during the day.
It was late afternoon when they returned back at the flat in Baker street, but Sherlock wasn't looking forward to going to bed and sleeping. Something was on his mind, and he needed to get all the information he could find on Charlotte. There had to be something big to have happened recently to explain why she was here, and Sherlock knew how to find information on nearly everyone. Except Charlotte wasn't just an ordinary person, she was careful about herself, she made sure people didn't know things she didn't want them to know. She knew how to control how her information was found and alter it to show only what she wanted it to.
Nothing new had happened. The only articles he found in the database with her name were a few arrests she had assisted in and a few times she'd been arrested herself. There was nothing new, but it only made circumstances much more interesting.
In the morning, Sherlock was in his robe as he walked into the kitchen where Mrs. Hudson had left a tray containing cups and and teapot. Out of habit, he assumed the clinking of a tea cup and saucer in the living room was John having awoke early, and so he continued pouring himself a cup of the hot liquid without even glancing around.
''Morning,''
Sherlock immediately turned to the voice in the living room, holding the cup tight in his hands. She looked as if she had just woken up as well. Dressed in short pants and a tank top, her hair a mess, she smiled over to his surprise, amused.
''The robe suits you,'' she nodded. ''Blue is your color,''
Trying not to seen startled by her appearance, Sherlock wandered into the living room with a cup of tea in his hands, sipping at it casually as he looked over her. She had no obvious marks on her body that indicated an uncomfortable night or any injuries that gave him any information. She wanted something from him, it was the only reason for her to be here.
''What do you want?'' he asked in a tone that implied his disinterest, sitting in his chair across from her.
''What makes you think I want something?''
''Oh please, why else would you be here?'' he rolled his eyes. ''You find it difficult to ask for my help so you continue to show up until you assume I'll offer it,''
''Not everyone needs your help Sherlock,'' she chuckled. ''I'm here for my own reasons,''
Sherlock was about to demand a straight answer when Mrs. Hudson opened the door and walked in, a happy smile on her face as she saw him and Charlotte sitting in the living room. He expected her to question Charlotte's presence since every entrance to the building was monitored by Mrs. Hudson, but she just walked over to them with her hands clutched together and her usual excitement.
''I see you've met this wonderful young lady, Sherlock,'' Mrs. Hudson, stood behind Charlotte, a hand on her shoulder. ''Isn't she lovely?''
Charlotte smiled up at the woman before she looked back over to Sherlock, satisfied with the surprise on his face, again. Mrs. Hudson seemed to adore the woman sitting in front of Sherlock, and he knew that she would have been fed a false story regarding Charlotte's reason to be here.
''Of course,'' Sherlock agreed, although his expression didn't change.
John walked into the living room moments later, pulling on his coat and seeing they had unexpected company. He glanced over to the stranger sitting in his chair sipping tea in her pajamas and looked over to Sherlock, wondering if this woman had stayed the night.
''Morning...'' he spoke with obvious confusion in his voice.
''Good morning neighbor,'' Charlotte smiled, finishing off her tea.
''Neighbor?'' Both Sherlock and John repeated.
''Charlotte's renting the flat across from you boys,'' Mrs. Hudson told them excitedly. ''She doesn't know many people around here, I couldn't let her end up at one of those dreadful flats across town. I saw them on the news, they're absolutely horrid! No place for a lovely young woman like yourself,''
''Thank you Mrs. Hudson,'' Charlotte beamed up at the woman. ''You've been too kind,''
''Yes far too kind,'' Sherlock interrupted. ''So kind I think you've forgotten my dislike toward having a neighbor,''
''Oh, Sherlock,'' Mrs. Hudson shook her head. ''Charlotte won't be any trouble,''
''No trouble at all,'' Charlotte agreed, her lips curving upwards into a smirk as she faced Sherlock.
''Well, welcome to the building then,'' John gave her a light smile, trying to finish the welcoming so that he could have his own seat back. For some reason it bothered him with someone else sitting in it. ''Hope you don't mind the occasional gunshots or violin at early hours of the morning,''
Sherlock couldn't help watching as Charlotte played her part in front of everyone, examining her expressions and movements. Of course, she knew he would be doing so, and she hid anything that would give him any indication of her lies or that there was something else going on. They both knew how the other worked, unfortunately.
