Curiosity

Chapter 2: 221B Baker Street

Thank you KD for being the first to review. I'm glad you like it and I hope you enjoy this one as well.

Btw, Liam is modeled after Aidan Turner.

Evie's POV

John and I stood there for a moment before turning to Mike, with a smile he said, "Yea, he's always like that. Well, I can't stay any longer; I have a class to get to. John, it was great seeing you again. Evie, wonderful as always. I imagine the two of you will want to get to know each other better so I'll be going now." Mike left without another word not that John or I minded, we were still shell-shocked.

Finally, I decided I was going to be the one to break the stupor, "So, um John, would you like to get to know each other more, since we might be flatmates?" I asked. It was sudden, but since I was this social today, I might as well keep it going.

John came out of his thoughts, "Uh, yea, why not."

Several minutes later, John and I were sitting in a booth at one of his favorite deli's waiting on our food, "So…what did you think about that guy…that Sherlock?" He asked.

"I really don't know what to think, honestly. Somehow he knew things about us that we haven't said, but it's amazing and a little unnerving, don't you think." I replied.

"I agree. So was he right about everything, if you don't mind me asking." John asked kindly.

"Not everything. I didn't just get out of a relationship where the man left me." I replied sadly.

John thought about it for a moment, "I wonder what made him think that." He thought aloud.

I brushed my thumb over my locket while I thought about it then it dawned on me, "My locket!" I said excitedly.

John was surprised by my random outburst, "What about it?" He asked a bit worried.

"It has an inscription, For my beautiful Evangeline. I never knew love until you." I said, "I usually keep it tucked inside my shirt, but I guess it came out while I searched for my phone."

"Oh." John thought about it again and looked at my locket, "Who did give that to you? It sounds like something romantic."

I frowned and slumped back into my seat, "My husband did." I replied so very quietly I'm surprised he even heard me.

"Oh, I didn't know you were married, I didn't see your ring." He glanced down at my hand, "You're not wearing a ring."

"My husband died three years ago. It's still too painful to wear the ring, but I can't part with the locket. I don't know why." I sniffled.

"I'm sorry to bring it up and I'm sorry about him." John said sincerely.

"It's alright. Liam's death had such an impact on me and I'm still trying to get back to how I once was." I said. I opened the locket where a picture of him and I were, "That was my Liam."

Liam was truly the most amazing man I've ever known. He was such full of life and always had a smile on his face. He was also the most handsome man I ever saw, Liam was darker than most Irishmen with chin-length brown hair dark and beautiful brown eyes. He was tall, but not as tall as Sherlock, and had a bit more muscle. He wasn't afraid of working hard or getting dirty; he was always willing to help out a friend or even a stranger. I loved him from the very moment I set my eyes on him and God I miss him so much.

"He was a handsome guy, your Liam." John nodded, looking at the picture. I nodded with a smile looking at it too. I closed the locket and put it back inside my shirt where it would be close to my heart.

"So did he get anything wrong with you?" I asked desperately wanting to stop talking about myself.

John puts on an amused smile, "Oh, he did."

I couldn't help the full smile taking over my lips, "What?" I let out a laugh, "What was it?"

John chuckled again before saying, "He thinks Harry is my brother, Harry is short for Harriet."

"I can't wait to see his face when you tell him that." I joked. Both of us burst into laughter after that and didn't stop until we couldn't breathe. The rest of the night John and I talked, I really liked him. He was a nice man and I could really see him becoming my friend. Eventually the deli closed and we parted ways, but not before giving each other's number so we could meet up tomorrow. I begrudgingly went back to my flat and was greeted by the loud moans and groans of Vivian and her 'friends'. Lord, it sounded like there were two guys in there, another groan rang out that I didn't hear before…three men were in there.

I ignored them to the best of my ability and headed straight for my room. I put on headphones and played music just laying on my bed thinking about what happened today. Who was this Sherlock Holmes and how did he know things like that about John and I? How did he know I loved drawing? I glanced down at my hands, that mystery was solved; I still had bits of charcoal under my finger nails. But what about the large imagination? Or how I hate to be the center of attention? I couldn't stand not knowing how he knew so I did the best thing I could think of the town, I googled him. I was surprised it paid off because I found his blog: The Science of Deduction. A lot of it, I couldn't understand the rest just seemed far-fetched but I read until I couldn't keep my eyes opened. I yanked out my headphones, luckily there was no moaning ringing throughout the house, and I went to bed.

I woke up late in afternoon around two. I was still exhausted but I got out of bed, I had to meet up with John and Sherlock around six and that meant I should at least look presentable. By the way my bed-head curls looked, I would have to shower.

I rushed through the shower and getting dressed then hopped in a taxi. I hated riding in taxis alone; the thought of jumping in a car with a complete and total stranger who you must trust to get you to your destination safely freaked me out. They could be a murderer for all I knew. Great, I'm getting paranoid now; I wasn't paranoid before Liam died.

"Where to, Miss?" The cabbie asked. I looked up at him; he didn't look like a killer that was good. I breathed a sigh in relief. If anything he was just an old man who nicked himself in the same place on his neck with a razor repeatedly, he was just a regular man.

"221 Baker Street please." I said. My eyes went to a photograph of his children, though his wife was torn out, yes, he was just a regular man with a family and a terrible marriage. I didn't have any reason to be afraid, I didn't have any reason to be afraid of strangers. I took a deep breath and calmed myself down.

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded. He dropped me off and I paid the fee.

"Have a nice day, ma'am." He said.

"You as well." I closed the door and found John sitting by the café beside the door. I was making my way over when a dog jumped up trying to get my attention. I bent down to pet its head, the owner apologized but I told him it was fine and that I loved dogs. I pulled out germ-x to get rid of the dog saliva then went over to John.

"I wondered when you'd show up."

I looked down at the clock on my phone, "Am I late?" We agreed to meet at 6:30; it was 6:00 when I got there.

"No, I've been here since five. I thought you'd want to figure out about him too and would get here early as well." John explained, "I got you a hot chocolate by the way. I knew it was what you drank yesterday."

I laughed, "Thank you." I took a sip, "I looked him up last night."

"So did I." John said. We talked until it was time to meet Sherlock about what we thought about the blog. John thought of it was weird and we didn't want to believe it until he saw proof. I thought it was incredible, but some of the things he said sounded unbelievable to me as well. In order to do the things he said, he would have to be a genius. Hyper-observant was one thing, but he said he could tell someone's whole life story just by looking at their thumbs. It was hard to wrap my mind around.

Finally John and I got up and went to the door, just was John was ready to knock on the navy blue door, a voice behind us called.

"Hello." I turned to see Sherlock bending down to pay the cabbie.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes." John turned around.

"Sherlock, please." He shook John's hand with his gloved one, then turned to shake mine.

"Nice to see you again, Sherlock." I smiled acting more confident than I felt, "The area seems lovely, but do you think we all can afford it?" My eyes glanced around; places around here were in the thousands.

"Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favor. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." Sherlock explained with his hands behind his back.

"So you stopped her husband from being executed?" John asked in awe.

Sherlock smiled, "Oh no, I ensured it." His smile only got wider from John's shock.

"What did he do to get sentenced to death?" I asked, my curiosity peaking its little head up again.

Sherlock smiled, he wasn't able to answer because the door opened by a sweet, short lady wearing a bright purple dress. Her arms were opened wide to embrace Sherlock and very sweetly she greeted him by name. Sherlock returned the hug earning himself a respect point in my book.

"Mrs. Hudson, Dr. John Watson and Ms. Evangeline Murphy." He introduced.

Mrs. Hudson smiled widely, "Hello, do come in." John passed by her and when I passed, she stopped me to look at me, "Aren't you a doll!" I blushed and looked down at my feet, "Thank you. Um…please call me Evie." I said, looking back at her.

"And so polite! You will be a wonderful change to that grump of a Sherlock. I bet you're an adorable couple." She gushed.

I blushed harder, "Oh…no…Sher...me…not together." I couldn't speak properly and Sherlock was right behind me taking it all in. John was silently laughing me, the arse. I should take that cane of his and beat him over the head with it.

"You're not?" Mrs. Hudson asked, "Well, you'd be adorable together if you were. I can just imagine the babies." Who on earth said anything about babies! I barely know the man!

"Shall we?" Sherlock asked, nonplussed by someone thinking of our future children. He rushed in front to lead us to the flat. I was in front of John as he made his way up the stairs, "I bet your babies would be beautiful too." John joked.

"Don't make me hurt you, John." I growled.

"You're precious when you growl, maybe your children will too." John laughed. I growled again and shot him a look. John held up a hand in surrender, but he still shook with silent laughter.

In front of the door, Sherlock waited until we reached the door before opening it. The living room we'd share was cluttered by boxes of books and other things. The built in book shelves already were covered in books and papers. The table/desk was covered in stuff as well as the coffee table. The only thing not covered was stuff was two chairs and a settee.

I loved the place right away, even with all the clutter-it made it feel homier. The flat had a classical charm to it, and standing in the room just made me feel smart. Plus, I adored the wallpaper. Sherlock stood beside me as I looked around the room. I looked at him, sending him a smile that said I liked the place. He turned with a small smile of his own, whether it was fake or not, I don't know.

John looked around too, "Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed."

"I like it." I voiced my thoughts. I looked at the fireplace that sat a skull. I picked it up for a moment feeling the bone, it was real bone. I set it back down delicately so I wouldn't drop it. I went back to my exploring. I glanced at the books on the shelves, I practically drooled thinking about reading them. Whoever this belonged too had wonderful taste in literature. I passed by a violin and ran my fingers over the strings wishing I knew how to play.

"I think so. My thoughts precisely," Sherlock agreed, watching me while I admired the violin and books.

"Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out." John gestured to the boxes of books.

"I hope the books stay." I said as I ran my fingers down the spine of a first edition Edgar Allan Poe's complete Stories and Poems.

"So I went ahead and moved in." Sherlock said we spoke, "Oh." Sherlock glanced around the mess and started to straighten up only a little. I felt that I should help so I picked up some papers and set them on the desk.

"So this is all…" John mumbled embarrassed.

"Well, obviously I can straighten things up a bit." Sherlock grabbed some papers setting them on the fireplace and drove a knife through them, "And the books, of course, are staying. You may read them, if you promise to take care of them."

"Sherlock, I'm a librarian. We take a vow for life to never to harm a book." I joked, which actually earned me a smile from him, I think it actually was a real smile.

My smile widened, I actually made a joke with a new person.

"That's a skull." John broke our eye contact by pointing at the skull with his cane.

"Friend of mine." Sherlock said, "When I say friend…" He glanced at us both in turn like he was expecting us to tease him, but we didn't say anything.

Mrs. Hudson walked in, "What do think then, Dr. Watson? Evie?"

"I love it." I answered. Yes, I think I will move in here. It will be nice to be out of the flat with Vivian. Maybe I could actually get some sleep at night.

Mrs. Hudson looked like she was about to break out into dance with how happy she was, but kept calm, "There's two more bedrooms upstairs if you'll be three bedrooms." Something about the way she said it or how she was looking at John made me want to giggle. John seemed appalled at what she was insinuating. Sherlock didn't seem to care less as he removed his coat and scarf. He pointed at mine; I realized I was burning up. I started to take mine off, but Sherlock pulled it off for me and laid it beside his.

"Of course, we'll be needing three bedrooms." John answered.

Mrs. Hudson looked worried, "Oh, don't worry, there's all sorts round here. Mrs. Turner, next door, has got married ones." She whispered the last sentence like she was worried Mrs. Turner would hear.

It was my turn to laugh silently, but however I didn't do it quite so silent. I slapped my hand over my mouth and snickered loudly. Ha-ha, take that for messing with me about babies. John shot me a glare that only made me laugh harder. I had to completely turn away from him to get back under control.

Sherlock just went back to unpacking, which somehow I joined in. I handed him books that he put them away. I looked up to John's shell-shocked look. Mrs. Hudson went into the kitchen, which I haven't had the chance to look at yet.

"Oh, Sherlock, the mess you made." She scolded. Sherlock didn't say or do anything, he returned back to putting his books on the shelf until the box was empty. I sat down in a chair across John as Sherlock pulled out his laptop which reminded John of our conversation at the café.

"I looked you up on the internet last night." John said.

Sherlock smiled proudly, "What did you think?"

John gave him a look that probably meant, 'WTF'. Or at least that's what I thought it meant. Sherlock's proud look went away, then he looked at me, "What did you think?"

"It was…" I don't really know my thoughts about it, "strange but amazing." That's a good way to describe it. Sherlock smiled again at the amazing part.

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airplane pilot by his left thumb?" John said unbelieving.

"Yes. And I can read your military career in your face and your leg and your brother's drinking habits on your mobile phone." Sherlock said seriously. His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. You will not be attracted to him, you hear me, Evangeline!

"I could tell you were an artist my your hands, how you hate to be called Evangeline by how your right eyebrow twitches, and your insatiable curiosity by how you look around. I also know now that you have a terrible weakness for sweets, love violin music, and always wanted a dog. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson would allow it."

"How?" John asked. Sherlock smiled and turned away.

Mrs. Hudson stepped out of the kitchen holding a newspaper, "What do you think about these suicides, then, Sherlock? I thought that would be right up your street." I glanced at Sherlock, wondering if he knew they were really murders too. I pulled the doodled newspaper out of my bag.

"Three exactly the same." Mrs. Hudson went on.

"Four." Sherlock said, looking out the window. He stole a glance at me and my newspaper, "There's been a fourth, and there's something different this time." I jumped up to look out the window beside him, outside was a police car. Not a minute later, a man ran up the stairs, Sherlock didn't give him the chance to speak, "Where?"

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." He answered in a hurry.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different." Sherlock spoke coolly.

"You know how they never leave notes? This one did." He answered, "Will you come?"

Sherlock thought it over for a moment then asked, "Who's on forensics?"

"Anderson." The answer made Sherlock grimace.

"Anderson won't work with me." Sherlock frowned.

The man frowned too, "He won't be your assistant."

John and I just watched the two conversing with shock, curiosity, and confusion. What the hell was going on?

"I need an assistant!" Sherlock bit.

"Will you come?" The man looked desperate asking him.

"Not in a police car, I'll be right behind you." Sherlock answered. The man looked relieved to hear it. He nodded towards us, then left. The second we heard the door shut, Sherlock's cool facade disappeared and he shouted, "Brilliant!" He jumped in the air. A large and genuine smile took up his whole face.

"Yes! Ah, four serial suicides and now a note." Sherlock spun around and grabbed his coat, "Oh, it's Christmas." He cheered. Though he was happy about another death, I couldn't help my smile and a slight giggle. He looked absolutely adorable, but I mentally slapped myself and forced the smile to disappear.

"Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food." Sherlock said as he went into the kitchen.

"I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson said. Yea, you tell him!

"Something cold will do. Evangeline, John make yourself a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up." Sherlock ran out the door, leaving John and I staring at the door astounded at what we just witnessed.

"Look at him dashing about. My husband was just the same." Mrs. Hudson said you John, "But I can see that you're the sitting down type, I can tell." I snorted covering it up with a cough and reached for the Edgar Allan Poe book I saw before, "I'll make you that cuppa, you rest your leg."

"Damn my leg!" John shouted, I jumped, dropping the book, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes, this bloody thing…" He tapped his leg with his cane. I nodded and picked up the book.

"I understand, dear, I've got a hip." Mrs. Hudson said, laying her hand on one of her hips.

"A cup of tea would be lovely." John said snatching a newspaper.

"Just this once, I'm not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson chided.

"A couple of biscuits, if you have some." John said, making me roll my eyes. Men...

"Not your housekeeper." She repeated, making me smile.

I looked back to my book, but was interrupted by the deep, magical voice, "You're a doctor." I looked up; Sherlock was leaning against the door frame slipping on some black leather gloves. John stood up and I put the book down to watch whatever was about to happen.

"In fact, you're an army doctor." Sherlock said.

"Yes." John nodded.

"Any good?" Sherlock asked.

"Very good." John answered.

I watched silently, both looked so cool, so calm as they spoke to one another. My eyes darted back and fourth with the conversation.

"Seen a lot of injuries, then? Violent deaths? Bit of trouble too, I bet." Sherlock neared John and I until he was standing right in front of John. The room seemed so silent that you could hear a pin drop; the moment was very epic to behold.

"Of course, enough for a lifetime. Far too much." John answered. I frowned listening.

"Want to see some more?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh God yes." John said. Well, that was unexpected.

John was ready to leave then but Sherlock just looked at me, "Well, Evangeline are you coming or not?"

"What?" I questioned and stood up, "Why would you want me to go on a crime scene with you? Why would I want to go?" I crossed my arms.

"Because you're curious if you're right. You want to know how he does it. I want you to go because unlike most women, well people in general, you actually use your brain." Sherlock grabbed my coat and held it out to me, "So do you want to read or watch telly or do you want to solve a murder with me….and John."

I gave him a scrutinizing look for a moment. Did I really want to go with him just to find out if I was right?

"You could just tell me about it once you've solved it." I said.

Sherlock smirked, "But where is the fun in that. And you know it. Your curiosity is eating you from inside, you want to know." He whispered, "You need to know, you crave it." More shivers went down my spine, I forgot for a moment that he was talking about a case than something else, something not so innocent.

I took a deep breath before taking my coat from his hands, "You and my curiosity are going to lead me into some serious trouble."

He gave me a satisfied smirk, "But at least you won't be bored."

I smiled, "There's that." I put on my coat and followed the two. I just prayed that it wouldn't lead me into trouble. What was that saying…curiosity killed the cat?