Sherlock deserved far more than the mild slap across the face that he received. As far as Ella was concerned, anyhow. Perhaps she'd overreacted. But the way that he'd laid out some of her darkest secrets for all to hear was heartless and objectionable in it's entirety. He, at the very least, deserved to be reprimanded. Didn't he? Though she was remarkably infuriated, Ella was intrigued by the fascinating abilities of Sherlock Holmes. He merely gave her a swift glace, and he immediately knew all the inner workings of her being. He'd deduced things about her that not even the people who were closest to her knew. Rightly, avoiding him for the time being was preferred. Yet, her mind still craved knowledge regarding the enigmatic man downstairs. How did he do it? Why? Her mind swirled with countless questions and she was adamant that she would eventually get her answers.
Morose morning light filtered into her room through the lace drapes covering her window, casting an intricate shadow pattern onto the hardwood floor. Ella's eyes traced the pattern, following every twist and curve as she toyed with the idea of getting out of bed. Finally, despite her comfort within the bed, she concluded that the day was not getting any younger, and that she ought to 'rise-and-shine' despite her lack of adoration for early hours. She swung her legs out from beneath the covers, and winced as the icy air nipped at her night warmed skin. Mrs. Hudson had warned her about the heat clocking out on occasion. As luck would have it, it happened on her first day in the city.
Her eyes drifted up to the limp looking calendar that she'd pinned to the wall yesterday. All the boxes were free of the fluorescent red ink that donned her previous calendars, except one. July 31st. Within the tiny box, she'd written 'Pick Up Books!'. Just prior to her departure from home, she'd recieved an email from a consultant at the university, informing new students to pick up their textbooks in the head office between July 31st and August 20th. Of course, she needn't pick up her books on the first day, but she wanted a head start on the game. And besides, if she had a destination for the day, perhaps she could wander there. Explore. begin to reinvent herself, just as she'd promised. But before wandering around the city-that she really didn't know, nor did she possess a map- she needed to take care of the hunger pain rippling through her abdomen.
Her ears immediately perked up as she heard the clinking of dishes, and the metallic ping of water hitting the sink, which could only mean that Mrs. Hudson was up and about. Her stomach lurched when she realized that she'd neglected to provide her dear aunt with an explanation as to why she'd come barreling into the flat last night with tears streaming down her face after her encounter with the boys of Baker Street. Sherlock had rendered her so disconcerted that explaining the situation to her aunt was but a distant thought. Now that Mrs. Hudson was up and about, Ella knew that an interrogation was imminent. No matter how much she wished she could avoid it.
She shuffled towards the door, and placed a light hand on the doorknob, twisting it silently, and continuing to shuffle silently deeper into the flat, hoping she'd remain undetected. Her attempt was in vain, however, when Mrs. Hudson swiveled on her feet and faced her with a cheerful look on her face. "Morning, dear." She tittered, setting two china cups on the table. Ella couldn't help but smile at her aunt's painfully buoyant demeanor, given the ghastly hour. It was a bit refreshing, after all. Her being a grump, and all.
"Morning." Ella replied, inadvertently combing her fingers thrrough her hair. She took a a few cautious steps forward, still surveying her new(er) surroundings.
"Don't be shy, love. Come and sit. The kettle's just boiled." Mrs. Hudson encouraged. A warm feeling encompassed Ella's heart as she realized just how hospitable her aunt was. Here she was, a girl from Canada that Mrs. Hudson had never met, and she was opening her home to her. Sure, she was family, but she couldn't help but hope that her aunt wasn't feeling an obligation.
"You're too kind." Ella said, still unable to wipe the grin from her face. She'd never felt a welcoming feeling quite like this. Certainly not from family anyways.
"Nonsense! I just want to make you feel comfortable. Moving away can be awfully scary."
"Well, thank you. It's more appreciated than you know." Ella replied, sliding the wooden chair at the table out and taking her seat. Though she was sure that the niceties were true, a part of her was still curious if it was just a ploy to get her to spill the juicy details from the night previous. As soon as the thought had been born in her mind, she felt completely awful for it. How dare she? Especially when her aunt was being such a saint!
She watched as her aunt toted a opalescent teapot over to the table, tipping the spout into the two cups she'd placed down. Once finished, she smoothed the apron on her front and took the seat beside Ella. "Anything in the paper?" Ella asked, nodding to the copy of The Times that was folded beside her aunt. Mrs. Hudson took a heart sip of her tea before answering.
"Nothing too exciting. Scotland Yard caught another murderer," She said carelessly. "no thanks to Sherlock, mind you."
Ella nodded, furrowing her brow. Sherlock worked for the police? Well, that somewhat explained the exceptional deduction abilities. Before she had a chance to derail the topic of Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson spoke the posed the dreaded question. "Which reminds me," She began cautiously, gingerly setting her tea down before her. "What exactly happened last night, dear?"
Damn.
"N-Nothing really," Ella stuttered. Her aunt shot her an incredulous look with her eyebrow cocked up. It was then that Ella knew that she would have to fess up. "Sherlock-"
"Deduced you?" Her aunt cut in swiftly. As if she knew exactly what she was going to say. Ella gnawed nervously on her lip. So Mrs. Hudson was familiar with Sherlock's invasive tendencies. This somewhat eased her fears regarding explaining herself. She nodded sheepishly, keeping her eyes downcast. "Ah," Mrs. Hudson said in wonderment. She coiled her fingers tightly around her cup and leaned back in her chair. "He does that a lot. Calls himself a consulting detective."
"Detective," Ella marveled. "Does he work for the police, then?"
"No. He and John are independent. Scotland Yard comes to them when they're up to their neck's in cases."
Ella nodded. So his 'ability' came naturally. She supposed that this was a step in the right direction in cracking the code to Mr. Holmes.
"He once ensured that my husband was executed in Florida. But that's another story for another time." Mrs. Hudson continued. Ella almost choked on her tea upon hearing this, though she did not press.
"It was almost like he researched me." Ella said, staring at the table, her face blank.
After tea, Ella took it upon herself to flip through the paper, to see if there was anything she'd enjoy checking out throughout her trek through London. Unfortunately, however, she found little to nothing regarding tourism. Just a lot of politics and world news. After coming up short in the paper, she decided that she'd wing it. Wander. Find her way into small shops, and meet new characters. Aside from school, this was her best shot at meeting people, anyways. She'd showered and dressed herself in comfortable, yet appropriate clothing for a day out on the town. She'd pulled on a pair of tan trousers, and a white and blue striped tank-stop, covering her shoulders with a navy blue blazer. It wasn't exactly as fashionable as what she'd seen of London attire thus far, but it was definitely considered nice where she came from. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she'd hugged her aunt, and was on her way.
"Ella!" A familiar voice called from behind her. She looked over her shoulder, and saw John Watson jogging down the steps after her. She turned to face him, and greeted him with a smile.
"Hello...John." She said, struggling for a brief minute to remember his name. He swiftly closed the gap between them, huffing out a slight sigh as he approached her. "I...I just wanted to catch up with you. I apologize about last night. Sherlock has a tendency to-"
"Make an ass out of himself?" Ella said, cutting John off mid-sentence. This surprised even herself, as she never really interrupted people, much less sassed them. John smiled, and let out a small laugh, his eyes never leaving Ella's.
"More than you think." "Well that must be a staggering amount of tendencies." Ella replied, returning John's grin.
"I apologize on his behalf." "If he wants to apologize, he's going to have to do it himself, John." Ella replied flatly. She noticed John's expression almost waver to unsure whether or not Ella was being sarcastic or not. To squash his fears, Ella smiled reassuringly.
"I'll pass that along. Although I'm not too sure he'll be keen. Don't expect an apology. He...Doesn't do formalities. I once stopped him getting decapitated by a psychotic dentist with a Saxon broadsword. He didn't thank me until the following Christmas. " John said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Ella was completely aware that her eyebrows had nearly disappeared into her hairline at John's words. What on earth did these two do? She thought thought better than to ask him what either of them were doing in the presence of a psychotic dentist, much less one with a Saxon broadsword.
"Are you off to work, then?" Ella asked, wondering if this interaction was becoming too awkward to proceed.
"Sherlock's got me going on a milk run." Ella cocked her eyebrow at this.
"Why doesn't he-"
"Don't ask." It was apparent that John had had to explain his comrade's habits more times than one, and it was wearing his patience thin. Ella's lip twitched, daring to smile at the man who tolerated someone whom he appeared to loathe. A long moment of silence passed between them before John finally piped up.
"What about you, Ella? Off to school already?"
"No, I just want to get a feel of the city. You know...Explore." She replied, suddenly beginning to grow tired of whatever it is this was. Even though she was thankful for some form of human interaction.
The expression that John held upon his face wavered from interested, to surprised in an instant. "All alone?"
"Well, I don't think my aunt would really want to escort me around London, do you?"
"No, but I can think of someone who would."
"Who do you reckon?" Ella asked, her interest in the conversation flooding back.
"Myself. Well, if you'll have me, of course," then lowering his voice; "I need to leave the flat every now and then. The man drives me bonkers."
Ella thought about this for a moment. She really didn't have any direction, and didn't even know which way to turn when she stepped out onto the street. She was clueless, though she'd never admit it. The prospect of having someone tour her around seemed all too enticing.
"If you're offering, I'd be glad to have you." John beamed at this. He removed his hands from his pockets, extending an arm to Ella.
"Right, then. Shall we?"
After leaving 221B, John had escorted Ella into a cab, barking directions off at the driver before they wheeled out onto the busy street. As Ella's eyes floated out the window, she noticed a number of things. Number one; the diversity within London was tremendous. People from every race and every walk of life maneuvered through the streets on their way to wherever their feet carried them. She found it almost refreshing. She'd come from a sleepy town in eastern Canada, where they rarely ever came across a person of color. The first time she'd seen racial diversity was when her mother had toted her along to the Capital for a 'girls weekend' when she was in her mid-teens.
Number two; there weren't a lot of friendly faces. Every person she laid eyes on as the cab traversed through the streets obviously had somewhere to be, and nothing would stop them, so it seemed. She couldn't help but hope that people would be a tad bit more welcoming to her upon her arrival at the University.
"Ella?" John's voice said, calling Ella back to the present. She whipped her head around to face him so fast that her neck cracked. "Did you, er, catch that?" he asked, furrowing his brow. Ella's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. She'd been so wrapped up in watching the city flash by that she hadn't been paying a single shred of attention to the man beside her in the cab.
"Oh...I'm terribly sorry. I-I wasn't paying attention."
"That's alright. I don't blame you. London's begs to be ogled." Ella's heart hammered hard against her ribcage. She wouldn't be at all surprised if John could hear it. Judging by the moderate look in John's eyes, he'd definitely noticed the color change in her complexion.
"Gosh, I'm sorry-"
"Don't be." John said, waving his hand dismissively. "I was saying that we're almost at the Abbey."
Ella pulled her eyebrows together. "You mean Westminster Abbey?" She asked, her voice showing an air of excitement.
"That's the one." John replied. Ella felt a warm feeling deep in her gut. She was overjoyed! Any feeling of apprehension she was feeling was erased in one instant. "I've always wanted to see the Abbey." Ella explained. "Well, I've always wanted to see all of London, so I guess we're off to a good start."
The cab pulled into a lot right beside the expansive cathedral. The building was enormous, and gothic. Pillars extended into the sky, each ending in a point with a cross. As the cab stopped, Ella nearly thrust herself out of the vehicle and onto the street before the building. "Welcome to Westminster Abbey, Miss Ella Hudson." John said airily, watching Ella look on at the church.
"Wow." Ella breathed. She couldn't really yet grasp on the idea that she was finally here.
"Some of the people that are buried here include the likes of Sir Issac Newton, Charles Darwin, and Charles Dickens." He said, once again shoving his hands into his pockets. Ella felt like a child within a candy store. Her eyes traced the building over and over again, as if she would forget it soon after. She looked at the wide arches over the doors, and thought to herself that every royal wedding has taken place in the very building before her. It was iconic, and she was finally, after a lifetime, standing before it.
She continued to stride forward, occasionally having to remind herself that she was with John still, and that she did, in fact, have to pay him some form of attention. She looked over her shoulder, and saw that John, too, was looking up at the slate-grey building. His eyes were squinted a bit, and his hands were tucked neatly in the pockets of his windbreaker. His demeanor told Ella in a split second that he'd done this over a thousand times. Seen all of this, and it was nothing new to him. Nothing to be overly marveled over. She immediately put a tight leash on her excitement and honed it in. She didn't want to seem too much like a child.
"It's closed, unfortunately." John said, joining Ella at her side. "Otherwise I would have shown you inside."
Ella nodded, feeling some form of disappointment deep inside her abdomen. She'd catch it another day, hopefully. John continued to walk alongside Ella as she made her way up to the door, running her fingers down the cold stone.
"So...You seem to have an affinity for architecture?" John asked, his voice somewhat hesitant. As if he were afraid to tread on unwelcome ground with this woman. Ella flicked her neck towards him, and felt her blood rush into her cheeks.
"I suppose you could say that, yes." she replied, turning her eyes back to the arch above her head.
"Where did that come from?" John asked curiously. Honestly, Ella had not spent a remarkable amount of time brooding over why she had always been fond of large, abstruse buildings. She'd never been asked the question before now, so was there truly a reason to find a solution to it? She looked back down at John, her mind scrambling to find an answer for him.
"When I was a kid, and my parents were fighting, I'd take my favorite book and run into town, where I'd climb on to the roof of The Chamber of Commerce, which was a large, stone building that appeared to be gorgeous to me at the time. I'd sit there and read for a few hours until I was forced down by the police, or my own parents. I suppose I simply find a certain feeling of safety within large buildings." She said, utterly surprised that she'd told John something about her past. She found herself wanting to do that more and more with this man, feeling some kind of connection with him. He felt like a safe person for her, and she had no idea why. He could be a psychopath for all she knew. Especially after that bit about the psychotic dentist.
She shyly looked back up at him, and saw that it wasn't the look of repulsion that she was expecting, but rather a look of amusement. He was giving her his own shy grin, his eyes wrinkling at the corners, his lips parted only slightly. "That's...Intriguing." he replied. Ella beamed.
"That was not the reaction I was expecting." John's eyebrows tugged together, and he cocked his head to the side, unsure of what to make of Ella's response.
"And what were you expecting?" he finally asked. Ella chuckled softly.
"I've been gawked at for that story before."
"Well, I thought it was a lovely story." John replied, gently clapping Ella on the shoulder as they turned away from the Abbey. They walked for a few moments, Ella following John's lead. She watched the cobblestone under her feet slip past her, as she moved. It was intriguing to her- the fact that there had been kings and queens standing on the very ground upon which she was now walking.
John had dutifully led Ella down a side street, leading to a far quainter neighborhood that seemed to be a breath of fresh air in comparison to the hustle and bustle of the city. The buildings were all smaller and appeared as though they'd been erected by hand. If Ella hadn't known that she'd been on another continent, she could have sworn that she was now walking through her coastal town of Hanna.
The two of them walked across the road and stopped outside of a small cafe. It's exterior appeared to be colonial, with sheer white paneling and sea-green trimming. Above the door, a large sign read 'Darcy's' in white cursive lettering. Ella's eyes flicked to the bay window, trying to peek inside, when John opened the door for her and gestured for her to enter.
The interior was vastly different from the outside of the building. Inside, the single room surrounding them was very modern. The walls were painted a dark beige, and minimalist black and white photographs hung periodically there. There was 5 tables, each black, with matching chairs, and along the wall were bookshelves, lined with old and fraying books. Cozy was the first word that came to Ella's mind as she cautiously took a few steps forward, hanging her bag on the back of one of the chairs. "Would you like anything?" John asked, fishing around in his pocket for his wallet. Ella looked up at the service counter. The selection was simple. Coffee, tea, water, or a latte. She bit her lip, before she gave John her decision.
"I'll have an Earl Grey, please."
While John was off at the counter, Ella crossed her arms on the table in front of her and eyed him from afar, trying to pick him apart with her eyes. He was a noble man, and that was apparent from his sharing of time spent in battle. He also appeared to be an insecure man. The way he nervously chewed on his lips in conversation, or the way his hands always remained in his pockets, rather than exposed. But what perplexed Ella the most was that she felt an overwhelming sense of both companionship, and comfort within a man she had just met. Given her history of remaining reserved and quiet around people, especially new people, this was a development that she couldn't wait to explore more of.
A few moments later, John returned to the table with their drinks in hand. Ella shot him a sweet smile as she clamped her fingers around the cool glass cup, sliding it towards herself.
"So," John began, angling his body toward Ella. "who are you?" he dared, his own fingers closing around his cup. Ella looked down at her mug, watching the wisps of steam twirl and dance into the air, disappearing before long. She absentmindedly fiddled with the string attached to the tea bag in her cup while she looked up at John.
"You live with a detective, don't you? Go on. Deduce me." John's head visibly cocked to the side, if only slightly. It appeared to Ella that he'd never been put on the spot before with a question like that.
"Well, I assure you that I won't be as crude as Sherlock. Nor will I likely be able to attain information like he can."
"Give me your best go." Ella pressed, crossing one leg over the other, her eyes locked on John's.
"Very well...I see you as a nervous person. Always, you know, unsure of yourself, even around those with whom you find comfort. You've lived both a sheltered and traumatic life, which is blatant contribution to my first statement. But below that, I see a woman who's ambitious. A real go-getter. Someone who won't take no for an answer, and who won't go down without a fight." he spewed, his cheeks turning red. Ella couldn't help but crack a smile. He'd pretty well pegged her. Of course, she was far deeper than what he'd described, but he'd gotten it pretty well.
"I applaud you, Dr Watson." Ella said, nodding at him. "You have me pegged."
The sun was low in the sky by the time that the new companions arrived back at Baker Street. They'd learned a great deal about one another, and Ella was walking away from the day believing that she had made a friend.
Exiting the cab, John and Ella walked back up the steps and through the door. The air inside was thick with something indiscernible. Not a smell, however. More like an eerie feeling. Thankfully, John had been okay with Ella stopping off at the university to grab her books and whatnot. It took another insurmountable weight off of her shoulders. John walked in behind her, gently shutting the door to the complex and following Ella up the stairs.
"Well, It's been a lovely day, John. Thank you for accompanying me." Ella said, stopping at the landing where the door to John's flat stood, barely cracked.
"The pleasure was mine. I'll pass that message along to Sherlock, and...I hope to see you again." he replied, extending his hand to shake Ella's.
When Ella found herself back in her own flat, Mrs Hudson was nowhere to be found. She wondered if she'd gone on a grocery run or if she'd just gone down to Speedy's with a few friends. Either way, Ella was thankful for the empty space. She set her books down on the coffee table and meandered into the kitchen to busy herself with something to munch on.
Who is John Watson? She asked herself, rummaging through the refrigerator. He seemed nice enough, and he lived with a detective, so the chances of him being an utter creep were slim to none. Where did he come from? Who did he love? Just like she had with Sherlock, Ella found herself craving more information. What was it that drew her so inexplicably to the boys of 221B?
As she pulled out the half empty bag of bread, Ella heard slightly raised voices murmuring through the floor. She furrowed her brow and angled her body towards the door, her ears alert and focused. When she deduced that the two voices belonged to Sherlock and John, however, she turned back to her business, extracting two pieces of bread from the loaf.
A hearty knock on the door rattled Ella out of her mindset, and she jumped at the sound, dropping the knife she had been working with to the floor. "Bloody hell," she cursed, wiping her hands off on a tea-towel that was hanging off the handle of the stove. Hurriedly, she trotted over to the door, swinging it open to find none other than Mr Sherlock Holmes staring her down. "Can I help you?"
"Probably not. But I've come to give an apology." He said flatly, his hand neatly tucked behind his back. Ella's eyes widened, more in disbelief than in surprise. An apology? Maybe John was a little harsher in relaying her message than she'd intended. Sherlock Holmes did not look like the type to 'apologize'. Certainly not for his work.
"Oh, you have? I suppose John put you up to this, then." she said, crossing her arms and leaning her shoulder against the door frame.
"Very good, Ella. You an deduce what a primary student can." Sherlock bit back, his eyes darting all over Ella's appearance.
"And you call that an apology?" Ella replied, a bit shocked by his gall.
"Sorry. That was...Unorthodox. I came here to apologize for last night. I was a tad out of line. And I'm...Sorry." he replied, furrowing his brow, looking as though he was fumbling over the correct words to formulate a proper apology.
"You've never apologized before in your life, have you?"
"It's a rare occurrence. John usually takes care of the niceties."
"Very well. I suppose that'll do. Thank you for the apology, Sherlock." Ella said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Sherlock good there for another long moment before shrugging his shoulders and stalking back off to 221B.
Ella silently shut the door behind herself, pressing her back against it and sliding to the floor. Sherlock Holmes was arrogant. He was obnoxious. He was rude. And he was an arse of a man. But, somehow, Ella found herself drawn to him. She didn't want that for herself. In fact, she promised herself that she wouldn't surround herself with persons of that type when she moved to London. And here she was, begging to be closer to the man. She let out an exasperated sigh and hung her head low. That's it, she thought. I'm swearing off Sherlock Holmes for good.
