John woke up to the sound of someone calling out
"hey... is anyone there? Where am I?" A female voice from the living room, then a figure in his door way.
"You talk to her. You found her." The figure disappeared again, then came back "I'd probably upset her."
Ah. So that's why Sherlock isn't... entertaining our... guest?
John got up and put on his slippers. He shuffled into the living room where he saw the girl. She was stood in the outfit she'd collapsed in; clutching the blanket john had covered her with like a lifeline.
"Who are you?" John held out his hands to show he was unarmed
"My name is john Watson I'm a d-"
"John Watson! Oh my god! I read your blog!" John stood up straighter as she smiled.
"You read my blog?" She nodded animatedly.
"A study in pink! Wait... is this your house? "She was positively glowing, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Wait til my friends hear about this!"
John shook his head and smiled "tea? You look cold." She suddenly turned calm.
"Yeah, tea. Please." John wondered into the kitchen, then noticing he hadn't asked her name. He put the kettle on and walked over to the fridge. Upon opening it he saw the head.
Damnit Sherlock.
"Milk? Sugar?" he asked.
"Milk, 2 sugars." She walked in stroking her hand along the counter. "My names Eliza Ren. My friends call my Liz."
"Ah, hello Liz." He smiled again and closed the fridge carrying the milk over to the kettle.
"JOHN! Have you seen my skull?" Sherlock swung into the kitchen flashing john a smile when john gave him a blank look. Sherlock seemed as though he didn't even notice the girl was still here.
"Didn't Mrs. Hudson throw it out?" Sherlock snapped his fingers and disappeared.
"Was that him? The madman? Sherlock?" Liz's voice was curious; she bent backwards, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive man.
"Hm? Oh yeah. Sherlock. He's not that much of a madman." John finished the drinks and handed her one, she looked unconvinced. "Honest."
~~~~~ Time lapse~~~~~~
"You really don't mind me staying over the night?" Liz asked again.
"For the ninth time no! Come on sit down." John looked slightly peeved. Eliza had done nothing but argue and try to see Sherlock... who was oddly vacant.
"Sorry, I can't believe I lost my hotel key! I'm only staying here for a business trip." She sat on the edge of the sofa.
That had been her story. Although when Sherlock had gone through her stuff... maybe her flat was out of town...
"So where do you live then Liz?"
"Oh, just outside London with my girlfriend." She smiled as though remembering a distant memory.
"Girlfriend? Like... a girl who's your friend or...?"
She laughed lightly, "We're... together... but we're not." She looked annoyed. "She thinks I'm clingy."
John smiled at her, and then yawned "I'd better get some sleep..."
"Goodnight then." She lied down on the sofa and got comfortable. John left the room heading over to Sherlock's. He knocked once.
"What?" The deep voice called out. It sent shivers down his spine.
"I was wondering how you are. You've not left your room!" Watson sighed. He was like a child sometimes!
"I've been busy." Came the coarse reply. "New case... you know."
"There has been no news in a week Sherlock! What is wrong this time?"
"Nothing john."
Ah. That can't be good.
"Sherlock can I come in?" He was tired of talking to a door and he had to check the state of the room... plus he was curious, he'd never been in there.
"Fine." The reply was followed from several shuffling noises and a loud thump. "one second I'll let you in." More noises followed, a cupboard door closed and paper shuffled. A glass smashed. John wondered what had smashed but the thought had barely materialised when Sherlock opened the door, hair a mess- worse than usual- his trousers stained and nicotine patches all up one arm.. oh, and he was topless.
Another thought barely had time to materialised before it was squashed: damn, wish I looked that hot topple- NO.
"hi." The simple word made john tilt his head up.
"Hey."
"oh, right." Sherlock moved to the side to let john in. John pressed his lips together and stepped past him, inhaling slightly as he moved across.
"why do you smell like.. a mix between cinnamon and explosive- actually don't answer that. i don't think I want to know." John examined the room, his mind not focusing like Sherlock's would. He took in a few details though, "what smashed?" he coughed slightly after inhaling the smell that lingered round Sherlock, a higher concentration though.
"oh.. nothing. How's the... guest?"
"she's fine. She's read my blog! Her name is Liz and-"
"I know john. Stop worrying" Sherlock turn to him, the door still open "I don't see whats wrong. I haven't shot the wall.. yet"
"that because I hid your bloody bullets!"
"Ah. Well I"
"Sorry to interrupt." A female voice called. Both the men looked at the doorway. "I can't find my phone." She smiled shyly.
"Sherlock..."
"what? Don't look at me like that." Sherlock looked away like a stubborn child. John sighed.