"Can school get any longer?" Arden asked annoyed and with an eye roll walking out of her old, pit of hell school with her now heavier, stretched out, navy blue bag on her shoulder. Filled with text books and homework she's sure will probably never get finished. There might as well be a huge red arrow pointing to her head that reads: 'PROCRASTINATOR.'
Arden friend, (or more frenemy) Lucy agreed with a nod of her head, her blonde ringlets falling as she does so as the pair walk down the stone stairs and down the wet sidewalk of London. Arden's red checkered dress, black leather jacket and her long black hair, (ombre included) swaying in the cold London air.
"I should just lock you in there and watch you just freak." Lucy said with that familiar un-cute laugh that was obviously fake that made even a wrestler cringe, walking straight ahead. Arden suppressed the urge to just bop her upside the head and make a run for it. So she just shot Lucy a tight-lipped smile but rolling her eyes catching up with her somewhat friend.
Arden had always thought her life was and always will-have been unsatisfying and unbearably boring. She did such 'normal' things it made her cringe sometimes. She wanted adventure, possibly romance, something exciting, sometime more than a life here in London. Sure she had little things that she enjoyed in her life, like watching her favorite TV shows and dear god she needed adventure.
Now you would think since she lived with the famous Sherlock Holmes her life would be full of adventure and action packed.
Nope.
All Arden had to look forward too was the sound of candy bar wrappers crunching. Sherlock smacking his damn lips while he tasted the caramel.
John typing away on his computer.
Sherlock shooting at the wall that had the painted yellow smiley face while he stared at Arden who was too busy listening to her music (Turned up loud) and reading to notice his creepy gaze.
And Sherlock was absolutely hating it. He's been driving everyone in the house crazy with his boredom. He was so restless he paced, made annoying sounds from time to time, pouted and of course that set everyone on edge. And she guessed it was her turn to pick up the collection of bullets on the floor, again.
"Hey, earth to loser? Just kidding." Lucy said smiling, snapping her manicured fingers in Arden's face breaking her out of her thoughts and quickly looking up at Lucy.
"Oh, sorry, did you say something?"
Lucy raised her eyebrow in an annoyed manner and shook her head.
"Obviously not, duh. well, this is your stop. Bye."
Arden watched Lucy wave her little manicured fingers and flip her blonde hair over her shoulder and strut off to her cave.
Once she was out of sight Arden looked at the dark green door that read in the slightly rusted golden colors: 221B. She sighed and went to turn the cold handle only to find it was locked. I swear he loves watching me struggle. Arden thought with a frown upon her face. After about 10 minutes she decided he wasn't gonna come to the door, Arden kneeled down on the uncomfortably cold and wet concrete porch and opened the mail slot and put her lips close to it, shouting.
"JOHN, COME LET ME IN OR YOU AND SHERLOCK ARE GONNA GET BLAMED FOR MINOR CRUELTY."
She could feel people staring at her strangely. Probably wondering what in the hell was a 17 year old was doing shouting in mail slots, maybe they thought she was poor but of course, Arden hardly cared. She heard some footsteps and almost sighed in relief. Then she saw the familiar grey hair of her long-time friend, John Watson. Well, more of a family friend.
John opened the lock and opened the door, stepping aside to let Arden and the cold burst of wind with her through which she gladly did, rubbing her leathered up arms in an attempt to warm up. She took a look around the normally dark part of the flat her, John, and Sherlock shared. The small rooms behind the dark-wood staircase, the dim overlight, and the green rug that laid beneath them.
"God, how long were you out there?" John asked looking at Arden incredulously, motioning her to follow him upstairs where Arden heard the sound of a violin playing. She and John shared a knowing amused look once they reached the upstairs.
"About ten minutes, its fucking freezing out there and i'm starving." Arden sighed out, opening the door to the flat, her boots clicking against the hard-wood floor with John trailing behind her with an apologetic look on his face.
Arden turned her head and caught the sight of the curly brown fluffy hair peeking out from behind the green love-seat and nearly rolled her eyes, but a small smile playing on her lips as she made her way to the kitchen and went to open the fridge. John suddenly stepped in front of her before she could open it and shook his head.
"He uh, has more of his 'cases' in there." He motioned to the fridge behind him and Arden shot him a thankful look. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to know.
"Alright well, I suppose i'll go take a shower and get started on..this." Arden held up her book bag quickly before the weight of it pulled her arm back down, tapping the bottom of it. John nodded and his eyes flicked to the quiet Sherlock still playing the violin, but they both knew he was listening anyway. He always is.
"I could join you." Sherlock finally offered up, his playing ceasing for a moment. Arden rolled her eyes at his childish suggestion, taking her bag off her shoulder (that now throbbed) and dragged it with her across the rug and tossed it so it landed on Sherlock's crotch. He grunted loudly doubling over and dropped the violin, his eyes squeezed shut in the new pain. Arden heard John cough to try and hide his laughter but it was failing.
"But you're injured." Arden retorted back in a feigned concerned tone that made Sherlock glare at her, breathing heavily. Arden slowly smiled proudly and made her way to the bathroom opening the door and closing it behind her.
"She's always been a spitfire." Mrs Hudson said with a laugh suddenly coming in through the door, dressed in her red pea coat carrying two grocery bags and into the room. John gave her a strange look.
"How did you hear her? And does everyone think that this is their house?"
Mrs Hudson shrugged her small shoulders and went into the kitchen, turning on the water getting ready to do the dishes while John shook his head and took the bags and opening the fridge, ignoring the human head that sat in the top slot.
"Alittle too much spitfire." Sherlock said through gritted teeth slowly standing up, wincing while doing so. Mrs Hudson smiled while scrubbing, turning her head to glance at the brilliant detective.
"Now Sherlock, you know you like yourself a challenge." Sherlock tensed slightly at her words, mostly because of what she was implying and also because it was true, he did.
He straightened his shirt out and ignored his two friends, then he picked up his violin and resumed playing, but he could still hear them talking.
"Are you implying that Sherlock...likes, Arden?" He heard John ask with disbelief. Mrs Hudson nodded enthusiastically pouring the red colored soap on the plate and washing it.
"But, he thinks everyone's an idiot and doesn't like anyone." John said with a disbelieving laugh, casually moving the head out of the way and packing the rest of the grocery's in. Mrs Hudson chuckled putting another plate aside to dry and grabbing another.
"I'm afraid he's a terribly complex man. But it's getting better to read him, he letting some things...slip, i'll say that."
John blinked, still not getting it but after a few minutes he felt himself smile smugly just as he finished up packing the groceries. Then he proceeded to go to his computer to check and see if any new cases had opened up, John typed in his password and pressed enter but the message said it was incorrect. Furrowing his eyebrows, he prepared to open his mouth but Sherlock beat him to it with a playful tone.
"Oh! Yes, by the way I changed our password."
John shot him a look and sighed, sincerely hoping that something will pop up and catch Sherlock's attention and interest. And so the great detective got up and scooted John out of his seat (Who fell) and typed in the new password eagerly, he quickly opened up his E-mail account and looked through and deleting the spam until something caught his eye: A mysterious Disappearance of a 6 year old child. Finally.
Arden emerged from the room, drying her long, two-toned hair dressed in her pajamas and her eyes glanced at her friends confused.
"So what are we all talking about here?"
Sherlock's eyes roamed over the girl, a nice view he admitted. Then he looked at her confused expression and nonchalantly answered.
"How annoying you are."
