Chapter Two

Issues, I have plenty of them, always have, and always will. One of them, the one we'll address right now, was my… image. I didn't always wear such baggy clothes. I used to like all the tight fitting, pretty, "in fashion", types of things. Being a professional classics dancer gave me pride, and with my mothers money (married to it at least,) I dressed "accordingly." But, they didn't matter anymore, nothing did….

I shook my head, and with a deep breath surveyed my room. Soft, pastel purple walls, white furniture, grey bed cover, and my paintings. They were abstract at best, but full of bright colors, with the exception of one. Then there was my bookshelf, I smiled when I saw it. They were the two things I missed most. Because I had to wait until all my things were moved here, before my mother let me move in. Everything had to be "perfect" as she put it. Not that I cared.

I put the last of my clothes away in the dresser, and then walked back out to the main room. My focus had been diverted by the enigma that was Sherlock, and I didn't get a look at it. The walls where a light apple-green, the sofa grey with matching white furniture from my bedroom. More of my paintings were in here, and then I noticed the far corner, to the left of the fireplace. My easel was set up next to a short book shelf, filled with paints and brushes rather than books. I smiled, and moved on to the kitchen.

Simple, clean, very modern looking, and very boring. So, with a sigh, I made my way out of my flat and listened for noise. Then up the stairs I went, I was immediately amused, and jealous. Their flat was warm, cosy, cluttered, chaotic, and perfectly unique. I could feel the life in the room, and suddenly felt like I'd be spending a lot of time up here… If allowed of course- well no maybe even if not.

I raised an eyebrow in curious amusement as the arguing between Aunt H. and Sherlock stopped as soon as they notice my presence.

"Oh dear, I forgot to make the tea, I'll go put the kettle on now." She smiled, and went to go back down the stairs, but added to Sherlock as an afterthought, "Remember Sherlock!"

Once she was out of sight I signed, "Was she telling you to be "nice"?"

Sherlock arched a single eyebrow, "Something along those lines, I tried to argue with her that you weren't actually bothered by it, but…"

I rolled my eyes, and he waited patiently for me to sign back, "Don't bother with it then, don't change yourself for the pleasure of others, unless the pleasure of others bothers you."

Sherlock frowned and tilted his head slightly, "Elaborate."

I first sat in the chair across from him, "It means, unless they matter to you, don't worry about their opinion."

"You should take your own advice." He smirked, and I shrugged my shoulders, "Everyone matters to me, but I get the feeling, with you that's not the case."

Instead of answering, Sherlock frowned, perched his elbows on the armrests, and steepled his fingers on his chin. Similar to the position I'd first glimpsed him in, before he started his rant. While his stare was intense, I found I didn't mind, the atmosphere of the flat was too relaxing, and I found myself getting comfortable in the chair I occupied.

"Good, feel free to visit often." Sherlock's deep voice startled me, and he elaborated at my questioning look, "You're comfortable, so you can stay. Downstairs, you almost didn't fit in, it became obvious to me after seeing you that none of the things besides the paintings and books belonged to you. Therefore, making you very out of place, and very clear that someone doesn't know you, or that they didn't want you spending much time in there."

I nodded my head, and signed, "Can you guess who?"

Sherlock smirked at my challenge, "Too easy, your mother. You really weren't listening much downstairs."

I shrugged my shoulders and curled in on myself, but I suddenly saw something that made me smile.

"Do you play?!" I signed and pointed to the violin.

Sherlock looked over, "Yes, why?"

"Do you play often? Would you mind playing now? Please?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but nodded, and moved swiftly.

I couldn't contain my smile as he picked up the bow and began, he was very good. In happiness, I curled up in the chair, propped my cheek on my hand, and never took my eyes off of Sherlock as he played.

I began to close my eyes, and I heard Aunt H. finally coming up the stairs. I sighed, winked at Sherlock, and put a finger to my lips. Sherlock frowned in confusion, but kept playing as I pretended to sleep.

"Oh! Dear me, I'll just leave the tray then, I imagine she needs some proper sleep anyways…" Aunt H. whispered upon noticing my state of being.

After she left the room, Sherlock stopped playing, "You shouldn't avoid her like that."

I opened my eyes and stared at him rather than answering, I shrugged, and motioned for him to keep playing. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but continued playing anyways. That time, I actually did fall asleep.

~o0o~

When I woke up, it was to the pounding of feet charging up the stairs. Bleary eyed, I look at Sherlock as he frowns at the door. I become wide eyed quickly, as a man in strange garb burst through wielding a curved sword and screaming a battle cry.

Sherlock surges forward and to the side of the man as he brings his sword down, narrowly missing his target. I leap up and to the side, half expecting the strange intruder to come after me as well. Except that the man simply lunges at Sherlock again, and I stand poised to jump in should he truly need me. Violence after all, was not my forte.

The intruder managed to pin Sherlock down on the kitchen table, and Sherlock managed to transfer damage to the tale, rather than his neck. I took my chance, I grabbed a frying pan, raised it over my shoulder, and slammed it into the foe's skull as hard as I could. There was a tense pause where the intruder simply stood still, Sherlock held his breath, and I readied myself to hit him again should the need arise.

Luckily for me and Sherlock, I'd put enough force into the initial action, and the intruder simply fell over. "Well, that was anticlimactic much." Sherlock frowned at the man now passed out in his chair.

I felt my shoulders droop, that was the thing he'd decided to focus on? I sigh and draw Sherlock's attention to me, "You alright?"

I raise my brows at him in surprise, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" As I signed to him, I realised my hands were shaking.

Instead of answering, Sherlock puts his hands on my shoulders and guids me to the couch. I nod my head as he flits about the room, makes a phone call, and my eyes never leave him. He's… used to this kind of thing. How does he do this, without being fazed? He doesn't seem like he's been trained for this, but… I get the distinct image of a child who went looking for trouble, found it, and looked for more.

Finally, some men came and took the foreigner away, and Sherlock settled in the grey arm chair.

I got up from the couch, and moved to the chair next to him, then I waited. Sherlock's eyes glanced at me one moment, as if he could sense I wanted to ask something, "So… What was that all about then?" I signed.

He smirked, and off he went on his explanation. I listened with rapt attention, sometimes I zoned out, and simply enjoyed his voice. I wondered….could he tell how much I was enjoying this?

I realised he'd finished talking, and was waiting for my reaction. I began signing, "That's brilliant! Amasing! Fascinating!" Sherlock looked almost taken aback, then I noticed something. I smile and lean forward to grab something underneath Sherlock's chair.

"Can I keep this?" I mouthed the words that time, considering my hands were full.

"Well I don't see why not…" Sherlock gave an amused smile as I bounce down the stairs to my flat.

I stood in my living room, contemplating where I wanted it. With a determined nod I went to my bedroom and propped it between my bed and the night stand. I smiled to myself, and had a sudden exciting thought, "I'm definitely going to stick with them if it's going to be that exciting."

I turned and I thought about grabbing one of my books, but remembered the shelves in Sherlock's. I smiled and bounced back up the stairs to see Sherlock sitting and already reading. He didn't even glance at me as I went behind him and scanned his shelves. I grabbed one at random, sat in the chair next to him, and suddenly I was learning about poisons. Not my usual cup of tea, but perhaps I needed not the usual.

The silence was nice, for once it wasn't awkward, or forced, it was just two people reading. Until that is, someone else came jogging lightly up the stairs. Definitely not Aunt H., Sherlock didn't look alarmed, and Aunt H. did say 'boys' as in more than one, so…

An adorable little blond man came and stood awkwardly in the doorway, and just as he noticed me, Sherlock spoke up, "You took your time."

The blond man looked to Sherlock, "Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." Which was apparently strange to Sherlock, "What, why not?"

Obviously the blond man was irritated, "Because I had a row in the shop with a chip and PIN machine." If the phrase didn't make me want to laugh, Sherlock's face sure did. I hid my giggle in my book as Sherlock replied, "You… You had a row with a machine?!"

The blond man replied in exasperation, "Sort of. It say there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?"

"Take my card." Sherlock spoke while nodding to his wallet on the kitchen table. Before retrieving the card, the blond man turned to me and smiled politely, "Sorry bout that, where are my manners? Name's Dr. John Watson." And he offered me his hand to shake.

I smiled at the pleasant blond man, Dr. John Watson, and shook his hand while nudging Sherlock's arm with my other. Sherlock rolled his eyes as John's face took on a look of confusion, "She's mute, and her name it Nova Farris, Mrs. Hudson's niece, on her mother's side." Sherlock looked rather bored with it all really.

"Oh, lovely. Are you visiting for long then?" John replied, unfazed.

Again, I nudged Sherlock, and as he replied for me, he rolled his eyes again, "Yes, for the foreseeable future, until her mother deems her 'cured' seeing as she's mute by choice."

John's eyebrows rose in wonder, "What are you psychic now or something?"

I giggled, and Sherlock sighed in exasperation, "No, John, I can't read her and her sign language. Of course I'm psychic!" I giggled at Sherlock's sarcasm, these boys were turning out to be quite amusing.

John huffed in annoyance and walked over to the table for Sherlock's wallet, "You could always go yourself, you know, you've been sitting there all morning, you've not even moved since I left."

I frowned, but when I looked to Sherlock, he frowned and shook his head. Didn't want to tell him? Huh, I'd pegged him for a show off….

"And what happened about that case you were offered- the Jaria diamond?"

"Not interested." Sherlock spoke and shut his book, "I sent them a message." John sighs as he notices the scratch on the table, then sighs again as he walks out the kitchen.

Sherlock turns his head to stare out the window, having forgotten the book on my lap completely, I propped my cheek on my fist with my elbow on the arm of the chair, and stared at Sherlock.

Without turning to look at me, he said, "Shut up." I raised an eyebrow as he turned to me with a sigh, "You're thinking, it's annoying. John didn't need to know, what he thinks of me is of no consequence." I tilted my head towards him in a 'knowing' way.

Sherlock huffed, rose from the armchair, and plopped himself at the desk in front of a laptop. It looked like it took him several tries before finally the screen gave way to the home page. Not his laptop then… sure hoped it would be ok….

Sherlock's long fingers began flying over the keyboard, and he was completely in his own little world. So, I sighed and went back to reading my new book on poisons.

Some time later John came back, trudging up the stairs with hands full of grocery bags, "Don't worry about me, I can manage." John spoke sarcastically, and I felt Sherlock ignoring him as a sort of revenge. But me being me, got up to help John, and enjoyed the look of surprise when he realised I had stayedl up there with Sherlock.

"Thank you! Though, I really can manage." John said pleasantly, grateful for help despite his words. As we set the groceries down, John's attention was diverted when he looked at Sherlock.

"Is that my computer?" John sounded astonished. Not ok then?

"Of course." Sherlock easily replied and started typing again. "What?" John still didn't believe this. I felt more surprised that John was surprised, or was I reading them wrong?

"Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock was not catching on to John's distress.

"What? And you couldn't be bothered to get up? It's password protected!" Oh, John even I knew better!

"In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours, not exactly Fort Knox." Sherlock turned to smirk at John, still seemingly oblivious, and went back to typing away. Seriously, these boys could be a soap.

"Right. Thank you." John muttered tersely as he nearly shut the laptop on Sherlock's fingers as he snatched it away from him. John slid the laptop under the stand beside the chair I was in, smiled pleasantly at me, and then picked up some papers on said stand. He glanced through them, tossed them back down, and fell tiredly into the grey armchair. Must be bills….

"Need to get a job…" John muttered just loud enough for us to hear.

Sherlock scoffed, "Oh, dull."

John looked almost nervous before he sighed and began saying, "Listen, um...If you'd be able to lend me some… Sherlock, are you listening?" He spoke quietly, but Sherlock was in fact, not paying attention.

"I need to go to the bank." Sherlock suddenly spoke and got up, heading for the door, and grabbing his coat. John looked surprised and confused as he got up to follow the strange man that is Sherlock.

"Coming?" Sherlock popped back in as an afterthought.

I frowned and shook my head 'no,' while signing, "Troublesome."

Sherlock scoffed, "Are you referring to the troublesomeness of people not understanding you, or the troublesomeness of doing things in general?"

I smiled sardonically at him and signed, "Both." John watched the exchange with a curious, and amused look on his face.

Sherlock scoffed, but said, "You'll come one day." Then Sherlock swept out the room, coat billowing behind him as he adjusted his scarf.

John smiled, "Good day." And was off after Sherlock.

When the front door slammed shut, I hear footsteps again. Aunt H. So, I stood, placed the book back where it belonged just in time to see Aunt H come in the room with a confused look on her face.

"How are you dear? Have the boys gone out?" Aunt H Smiled, in her ever present mother hen kind way.

I smiled back at her, pulled out my phone and began typing for her:

It's alright, I'm rather hungry anyways. Would you like to take me to your favorite shop after we eat something or before? My treat, or rather, your sisters.

I gave her a coy smile as she looked up from reading and laughed at me. "That sounds like a nice idea! Besides, who knows when those boys will be back."

I smiled with her, she lead the way down, we grabbed our coats, and were off!

~o0o~


Yes. Nova's mother is much younger than Mrs. Hudson. We'll go deeper into all of this later. Thanks for reading, please review!