After driving nearly four hours, John Watson finally pulled into Cross Keys Inn, watching as the woman from the gas station pulled in after him, finding a parking spot on the other side of the parking lot. At first, John had promised Sherlock they could observe the area before going to the Inn, but with Rose following them and it nearing midnight, John was not up for exploring. This, of course, led to Sherlock getting upset, but when John reminded him there would be drunk Dartmoor residents at the Inn he could deduce and interrogate, Sherlock begrudgingly accepted.
Cross Keys Inn wasn't much, with its main focus seeming to be on the bar and restaurant then on the Inn, John wasn't expecting much, and neither did it seem Rose was when she hopped out of her jeep and grimaced at the Inn. She turned to him before heading inside, waiting for him to catch up with her while she offered him another beautiful grin. John may not have been as skilled as the consulting detective, but he knew something was different about this girl. The most obvious being the jeep she was driving was one of the military's meant for field work, it was what had John approaching her in the first place, hoping to help out a fellow soldier. It was a surprise to him that that was really his only reason. He registered Rose was beautiful and kind, but he was telling the truth earlier when he promised he wasn't looking for a date when he asked for her number.
Sherlock headed into the bar without offering to find them a room, causing John to roll his eyes at his friend's back and Rose chuckled at John's reaction. She curled her arm around his and pulled him into the Inn with another grin he couldn't help but return.
"Let's find us a room, yeah?" She asked with a playful wink that had them both laughing up to the counter.
Rose stepped up first, after John motioned for her to, and while she asked for any available room, John glanced around the room, focusing hard for the details Sherlock would have found already. He hated himself for how often he compared his skills with his best friend's but there was no helping it and it wasn't breeding any resentfulness so he didn't deter from doing it.
Gary, the manager, handed Rose a set of keys as she thanked him with another grin. John saw how relaxed Gary was around Rose, and watched with interest as she engaged Billy, Gary's partner and the barman, in an easy conversation when he arrived needing help from Gary. She was more of a people'e person than John was, and he vindictively hoped she would stick around long enough so he could see her handle Sherlock. Somehow, he thought she could stand her own against the detective.
While Billy was distracted with Rose, Gary was able to talk to John about getting a room, and once he left to get the keys, Rose excused herself from her conversation and stepped over to John. "Well, I better turn in." John noted she sounded almost reluctant to go and gave her a questioning look. "I've had a rather eventful day, and while I'm tired, I'm almost afraid to sleep for fear of missing something else exciting," Rose admitted.
"Want to get some drinks?" John offered, motioning at the door Billy had just exited out of.
"Already bugging me for a date, John?" Rose joked, but took his arm once again. "Only if you're buying me chips." She grinned up at him.
"Sorry, mate," Gary said, walking back to them and handing over keys. "This is the last room and its a queen bed." John swallowed back a gag and groaned into his hand at the thought of sharing a bed with Sherlock tonight.
"I've got two beds in my room," Rose spoke up. "We can switch for tonight, see if there are more rooms open tomorrow?" She glanced between Gary and John to see if that was okay, and at John's very visible relaxation, she laughed.
"I'll buy you all the chips you want for that." Rose laughed, and though John did also, he watched Gary laugh along with her, smiling at her fondly.
They walked towards the bar, passing over their respective keys. After passing into the bar, John looked around for Sherlock and saw him brooding by the fire, so he excused himself from Rose for a moment while she looked for a table and headed over to his friend. Though Sherlock would never admit it, he was capable of growing tired and John saw the signs for it, but knew if he pointed them out Sherlock would spout nonsense about not sleeping during cases so he had to be sly about it.
"Hey," John sat down in the chair opposite Sherlock and looked him over. "Find anything interesting?"
"Nothing," Sherlock snapped, leaning back roughly into the chair and releasing an exasperated sigh. "We should have gone looking around the area."
"At night?" John asked, wondering if Sherlock had even noticed.
"I'd still find more than here." It wasn't said boastfully, but boasting Sherlock most certainly was.
"Well, you're welcome to join Rose and I for drinks and chips."
"Rose?" Sherlock asked, mildly interested.
"The woman that got lost and followed us here?" John reminded him, but Sherlock waved his hand, indicating he remembered but didn't find it important. "She gave us her room because otherwise we'd only have one bed in the room."
"So?" Sherlock gave him a blank stare.
"No, I'm not explaining this one," John exclaimed, not missing Sherlock's quirk of the lip at his expense. John stood up, handing Sherlock his key. "Come thank her." Joh ordered, watching Sherlock stand up to do the opposite of what John asked him to do.
"No, I'll be in the room." John smiled once Sherlock's back was turned and looked around the bar to located Rose.
He found her in the back of the room, her eyes running along the bar and a pile of chips and two drinks in front of her already. As he walked towards the blonde woman, he tried to observe her once again, more interested in her than in comparing himself with Sherlock. Her hair wasn't naturally blonde, and she seemed to have a small amount of makeup on, but that was the only effort she put towards expressing her beauty, not that she needed more. She was younger than Sherlock and him, but not by much. She wasn't married and he didn't think she was in a relationship but didn't have evidence for his assumption like Sherlock would, except she was traveling alone. Then, with a start, he realized she had chosen a seat in a corner with her back against the wall and a clear view of both exits. John definitely wanted her to meet Sherlock.
"Ah, my knight has returned!" She exclaimed upon seeing him, motioning towards the seat in front of her. He was a bit uncomfortable having his back to the room, but was quickly put to ease by Rose's easy mannerisms.
After a few minutes of small talk, Rose propped her head against her hand and leaned heavily on the table with a yawn. "I believe these drinks are putting me to sleep instead of keeping me up, what 'bout you?" Rose asked with a sleepy grin.
He replied with a yawn and standing from the table, throwing a couple bills on the table. He was set to have a long day tomorrow so John knew staying up late with a pretty girl wasn't a good idea. Rose stood up as well, wrapping her arm around John's once again, leaning on his shoulder as they walked.
"What are you doing in Dartmoor, anyway?" Rose mumbled as they ascended the stairs.
"Oh you know, visiting tourist sites," John answered, heading towards the room that was suppose to have been his and Sherlock's.
"I can't see your friend being a good tourist," Rose chuckled, running a hand over her face and standing up properly. She gave John a wide, tongue-in-tooth smile, and John found himself almost wishing he did feel romantic feelings for this woman. He could see her fitting into his crazed life better than any other woman he'd met, but the feelings weren't there even as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him goodnight.
"Goodnight, Rose."
"G'night, John, thank you again, for the directions and the food." She patted his arm and was only half joking when she said. "Don't be bugging me with more dates though, so go on and delete my number." Rose offered another smile and wink, before unlocking her door and stepping inside.
John turned down the hall and headed back towards his room for the night, pulling out his phone and looking at his newest contact. He hovered over the delete button, before glancing over his shoulder and shoving his phone back in his pocket.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Sherlock and John set out early the next morning to get a look around Dartmoor, taking in the beautiful landscape, as well as locating Baskerville and Dewer's Hollow. After seeing the minefield surrounding Baskerville, they headed back to Cross Keys Inn to return Rose's key and search for a new room. While John went looking for the blonde woman he met the night before, Sherlock took another look around the Inn to locate any clues to help his case.
The shriek of a woman getting spooked by the tour guide followed both men into the Inn. Once again, Sherlock let John handle the manager while he headed to the bar. It was obvious to Sherlock who was visiting Dartmoor and who was a resident, so he drifted towards the residents, hoping to find more about them than an affair or pay raise. When he saw nothing promising, Sherlock glanced up to where John was still standing with the blonde.
The woman was helping John look for another available room with better sleeping arrangements. She wasn't traveling with anybody and she said she was assuming she would only be there for the weekend, indicating this was an unexpected visit planned by someone else. She couldn't have been older than 28 and if her boss could send her off with short notice and against her will as her tone suggested, she couldn't have been ranked high. Her clothes lended to military, but not field work as she was in well worn heels and her hair didn't have the signs of being pulled up regularly as was required for women in the field. Someone here to visit Baskerville as well.
"Explosives?" John was asking the bartender acting as manager.
"Oh, not just explosives. Break into that place and - if you're lucky - you just get blown up, so they say . . . in case you're planning on a nice wee stroll." Sherlock watched the blonde take a mental note of everything John and the bartender were discussing. He started walking towards them to ensure it wasn't John she was taking note of while the bartender discussed how the business boomed with tourists after Mr. Knight got on the documentary.
"Ever seen it - the hound?" John asked.
"Me? No." The bartender pointed towards a man in the doorway, effectively pulling Sherlock's attention away from the seemingly ever-present blonde. "Fletcher has. He runs the walks - the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He's seen it." With that, Sherlock followed Fletcher as he walks away, leaving John to deal with the talkative bartender, missing his chance to speak with the curious blonde.
o0o0o0o0o0o
"Excuse me, what hound?" Rose asked stepping around John to get a better view of the bartender. John looked surprised at the question, but the bartender lit up at the opportunity to tell the story, and since he still didn't have his key, John sat through the story once more, this time observing the reaction of the pretty blonde next to him. She reacted as anyone would to hearing about a boy seeing his father brutally killed, but she seemed more interested in the description of the animal than anything else.
"It was on four legs though? Not up on it hind legs?" She asked.
"No, ma'am, there aren't any bears in our woods." Rose nodded though that hadn't been her question. Gary went behind the bar to retrieve John's new keys while Rose looked at John curiously.
"So that's the tourist sites you're visiting?" She questioned with a teasing smile.
John reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "Er... yes?" Rose laughed and shook her head, not seeming to mind he wasn't being completely truthful. "What about you?"
"Just work," Rose replied with a shrug, watching Gary return with the keys. "I'll see you later, yeah? I'm gonna grab some chips before heading out." John nodded and watched her walk out the door, spotting Sherlock at one of the benches outside as well, but he was distracted from following when Gary and Billy returned.
o0o0o0o0o
Rose left John at the bar after picking up a basket of chips, heading outside to take in some sun and the beauty of the area. She was hoping to wrap up whatever job Mycroft had for her quickly enough to have time to explore the area for this mysterious hound, it didn't sound alien but maybe that was what Mycroft needed her to investigate.
She shook that thought away. No, Mycroft would tell her if she was hunting down an unknown alien. They had their fights, often, but she knew he was a worrier and wouldn't send her into potential trouble unprepared. So far, it seemed as though Mycroft really did want her to look into Baskerville. She had an appointment with Major Barrymore within the hour, but with how small Dartmoor is she wasn't worried about taking a moment to observe the Inn's grounds and surroundings in case she attracted trouble.
Once she took a seat outside, she noticed it was only her and two other men out there, and the two of them looked like they were on the verge of an argument. She watched them for a minute, but looked away when the dark-haired man with a long coat caught her eye, recognizing him as John's temperamental friend. Once she was faced away, she focused on listening to the conversation, noting it was once again about the famous demon-animal Dartmoor was apparently famous for in this universe. After a moment though, the conversation ended abruptly and Rose heard footsteps approaching her.
"Sherlock, I called Henry -" Rose heard John say, presumably walking out of the bar to his friend, and suddenly the pieces clicked together. John. Sherlock. Bloody hell Mycroft.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Sherlock looked up, feeling eyes watching him, and caught the stare of John's blonde friend, who turned away upon being caught staring. He watched her for a moment, loosing interest in Fletcher, and saw how she left her food alone, indicating she was tuned into his conversation.
He figured their mutual friend would be enough to allow him to take a seat with her and engage in conversation, and even if it wasn't he still would do it. So Sherlock, stood up and abandoned his table and conversation and made his way towards Ms. Tyler just as John was walking out of the bar.
"Sherlock," John called. "I called Henry-" Sherlock cut him off before he could reveal too much information. Sherlock also noticed Ms. Tyler go stiff at his name, she turned around and stared at John and Sherlock as though their faces had just registered.
"Yes, of course." Sherlock strode past John and took a seat in front of a grinning Rose. "Hello."
"Hi," Ms. Tyler grinned. "You're Sherlock Holmes."
"An obvious deduction, but yes, and you are?"
"Rose Tyler, pleased to meet you," She offered her hand but he ignored it, but, unfazed, she offered it to John who pleasantly shook it with a return smile. "Now John, you can't just spend an evening with a girl and not bring up that you're the Doctor John Watson. There I was rambling about nonsense while I had a celebrity in front of me." John blushed slightly at the compliment while Sherlock scoffed, causing both to give him an unimpressed look.
"Next time, I'll be sure to include that in the introduction," John said. Sherlock was beginning to feel ignored.
"I've read nearly all your blog entries, their simply fantastic stories," Ms. Tyler gushed, releasing his hand and indicating he sit down next to her instead of Sherlock. He took the offered seat, Sherlock noticing Ms. Tyler had succeeded in singling him out where he had meant to single her out.
"They're not stories." Both men spoke at the same time, John rolling his eyes at Sherlock's tone.
"Well of course they're not fictional, but stories they most certainly are," Ms. Tyler refuted Sherlock, then turned back to John who looked completely amused by the woman in front of him. "Are you on a case right now? You're investigating the hound, yeah?" She paused for a reply, but then her eyes lit up with amusement and she gave both boys a stunning smile. "Oh my god, it's Baskerville! Ha! It's The Hound of Baskerville! That's bloody brilliant." She was nearly bouncing in her seat but noticed Sherlock's unamused look and settled down, still sporting a stunning smile that had John grinning down at her. "Sorry, big fan, me."
"Yes," Sherlock drawled. "And what are you doing in Dartmoor? This is obviously your first visit here, and not willingly either. Your boss asked you to come here on short notice, and from your attire and hair you're working with the military, but not field work so you must be here to discuss research with Baskerville."
"Do ya always do that?" Ms. Tyler asked with a gentle smile.
"Reading people is a simple enough task, if one chooses to pay attention to the obvious," Sherlock replied, leaning back and looking far too smug.
"I meant answer your own questions, but sure, if you want to go with your first impression of me you're free to." Ms. Tyler stood up from the table, fishing out her car keys while Sherlock leaned forward at the challenge in her voice.
"First impression or last, it does not matter, I always get it the same either way," Sherlock proclaimed, watching Ms. Tyler's smile turn into a smirk.
"Is that so? Well, Mr. Holmes lets hear your full first impression before I bid you ado, I am interested to hear what people see when they look my way."
Sherlock noticed John grow uncomfortable at Ms. Tyler's challenge but paid his friend no heed. While John may be worried about Sherlock upsetting his new friend, Sherlock had no qualms doing exactly that to this prideful, ordinary woman.
"Your accent tells me you grew up in South London, perhaps in the estates, but you don't live there now and haven't in several years, hence the softening of the accent. You've been in the workforce for as long as you've been able and at some point you came into a bit of money from the way you're able to speak as though you're from a higher status than you actually are. However, you no longer have as much money as before and rely heavily on your job, which is why you did as your boss told you to do despite this being a spur of the moment business trip, also indicating you have no one of importance you would have to inform of such a trip. As I've already said, you work for the government, most likely military since you're here visiting Baskerville, but you don't do field work from your choice of footwear and the way you style your hair. Instead you file paper work, though you wish you did more, thats why you try so hard to impress the boss. You use to be in a serious relationship, possible marriage or simply engagement by the markings on your finger, but you're not anymore and it ended badly for you not him. He lost feelings but you kept the rings and they're hanging from the necklace around your neck, one that you don't ever take off because you have a slight tan line around the area."
Sherlock sat back after his speech, and Ms. Tyler gave him an indulgent smile.
"Very nice, Mr. Holmes, except for a few things you're spot on."
"What things?" Sherlock demanded, sitting forward once again.
"Well for starters," Ms. Tyler pulled on the chain around her neck, revealing a key instead of a ring. Sherlock's eyes widened slightly in shock, but then he masked it over and scoffed.
"Key to his home then?"
"Key to my old one," Ms. Tyler corrected, both her and John chuckling over Sherlock's shocked expression. "I'm off now, you were right about Baskerville, I have an appointment there I best not be late to. Good luck on that case!" She called the last bit over her shoulder as she practically skipped away, Sherlock's piercing stare following her the whole way.