By the next morning, Sebastian knew everything he needed to know about his target. Sure, Jim had told him the basics, but he hadn't mention things like how Dr. Hooper liked to be in bed at 11 on the dot, whether she worked the next day or not. Seb would say it put a damper on her social life, except she didn't seem to have one. Jim had called her a homebody and Seb found himself wondering why an attractive single woman didn't like to go out and enjoy herself.
But that merely had him curious. It was her insistence on leaving her bedroom window slightly open at night that drove him insane. Doesn't she know anyone could come in that way? Any burglar, rapist, or … or consulting detective. That must be why she does it, so Holmes can get in. If he shows up again, I'll have him make her see reason.
Her mobile had been ringing nonstop since the fall, to the point where she simply turned it off. Friends and even just nodding acquaintances frequently dropped by to either offer their condolences or gloat, sometimes both. Seb was on edge every time someone showed up he didn't already recognize. It's only a matter of time before the reporters start sniffing around. All they have to do is follow Sherlock's connection to NSY straight to Bart's morgue.
After dinner that night, which Dr. Hooper ate alone, she turned on Glee. Good, Seb thought. She'll be occupied for hours, plenty of time to stretch my legs.
Just as he came back to Dr. Hooper's street, he saw her walk down the front steps of her building. Seb scowled in confusion. The hell? She was fine with watching Glee all night a minute ago, where the fuck is she going?
She was crossing the street when her mobile rang. Seb watched her look down and pull it from her pocket, not seeing the car heading towards her. With barely enough time to think, he ran across the street, grabbing Dr. Hooper and hauling her out of the way of the oncoming car, which blared its horn at them belatedly as it passed.
Dr. Hooper stared up at him as she tried to catch her breath. "Thank … thank you…"
"You can thank me by watching where you're walking the next time you cross a street, Dr. Hooper." He mentally kicked himself for using her name. So much for keeping my distance.
Her eyes widened. "How do you know my name? Have we met?"
Deciding he'd said too much already, he simply turned and walked away.
Monday morning, Seb followed from a discrete distance as Dr. Hooper walked from the Tube to Bart's. It was her first day back to work since Sherlock's fall. So far, no one had taken any notice of her and that's how Seb wanted it to stay.
He glanced down at his iPod when he knew she was going to turn and see if anyone was following her. Lowering the volume slightly on the already low heavy metal track that was currently playing, he silently counted to ten before looking up. Sure enough, the current focus of his existence had turned back around. She made it to the end of the block and was about to turn the corner when she stopped dead.
She's in sight of Bart's, Seb thought, quickening his pace. Bloody fucking hell, the reporters are still probably swarming… He caught up to her then grabbed her upper arm just as a few reporters turned their way.
Dr. Hooper stared up at him with the big brown eyes that he knew were the weakness of at least two men. Well, one less now with Jim gone. "Turn around," he murmured. "Run, don't walk. I'll make sure none of them follow you. Go home and for fuck's sake, lock all the doors and windows. Tell your boss you don't feel comfortable coming back to work until the reporters stop circling."
"Who the hell are you?" she murmured back.
"Your guardian devil," Seb muttered. He looked over his shoulder and saw three reporters heading their way then turned back to her and gave her a shove. "Now go."
She took off running, her bag clutched to her chest. Satisfied, he turned to the reporters and gave them a teeth-baring grin.