Belle came in, after her shift at work. She opened to door, and frowned. The flat was messy, again. It had been rummaged through, things discarded on the floor. John was sitting on the sofa, oblivious to the carnage of magazines, books, and everything else around him.
"Um, John?" she asked, stepping in, dropping her keys into a little dish by the side.
"What? Oh yeah, hi Belle" John said, giving a little wave. He set his book down on the armchair "how was work?"
"Yeah, was fine" she said slowly "bit slow today so I got off early, what's going on?" she asked.
Sherlock came sprinting into the floor, leaping over a pile of music sheets, grabbing Belle's shoulders.
"Do you have some?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
"Some... What?" she asked, trying to wiggle out of his iron grip.
"Damn it, of course you wouldn't!" he said, jumping up and down angrily.
"Care to explain?" Belle asked john, peering around Sherlock's blue dressing gown.
"Cold turkey, we agreed, remember?" john asked.
"Oh, yeah!" belle said "I forgot. Shame, I just had my last one" she grinned.
Sherlock span slowly. "You. What?" he asked.
"Yeah, hence the chewing gum" she said "John hates the smell of smoke"
"you smoke?" Sherlock asked.
"I'm surprised you didn't guess" she smirked, he glared at her.
"Believe it or not, Belle, my life and brain does not revolve around you" he said, walking around the flat.
"Only because you can't work anything out" she said, peeling her coat off. "And if it's any consolation, I don't smoke every day. Once a week, or something, to clear my mind. But that's not the point, you're addicted, and you are not getting any" she said, sitting across from john and curling up.
Sherlock pranced around the room, arguing with John.
"OH, GOD!" he yelled.
"Does he always act like a hyperactive three year old?" Belle asked.
John nodded. "You'll get used to it" he said.
"That's what I'm afraid of" she said.
"Stop talking about meeeeee!" Sherlock whined.
"Tea?" Belle asked.
"Lovely!" John replied.
"Make sure you use those new coasters I bought though-Mrs Hudson goes crazy if she see's coffee rings on her table" Belle added.
"Not as much as she hates finding heads in the fridge" john laughed.
Belle looked at the fridge. "Is mark still in there?"
"Mark? Who's Mark?" Sherlock asked.
"Mark- the head inside the fridge. C'mon Sherlock, keep up!" Belle grinned.
"Nah, Mark went ages ago" john replied "Don't forget my sugar!"
"Do I ever?" Belle asked, coming back into the room.
As they chatted, Sherlock drew most frantic until he turned to them.
"Please" he said quietly. They both froze. They had seen Sherlock angry, frustrated, calm, annoying as hell, but never... never pleading.
He got on his knees in front of Belle's chair and took her hand gently, and her eyes went wide.
"Please" he said quietly, his blue eyes boring into hers, and belle took a moment to take his unusual face in, the sharp cheekbones, the smooth skin, his dark, curly hair.
"Nope" she said, grabbing a magazine.
He threw himself into the fireplace, grabbing things as Mrs. Hudson entered.
"you-who!" she said, coming in and looking around.
"Afternoon Mrs. Hudson!" Belle greeted her.
"Hello Belle dear, John... Sherlock?" she said, cocking her head to the side as Sherlock rummaged through more things. Belle wasn't paying attention until Sherlock started verbally attacking Mr Hudson, grabbing the harpoon.
"You've been to see Mr. Chatterjee again" Sherlock began, and Belle groaned.
"Sherlock, don't" she warned.
He pointed to Mrs. Hudson's sleeve. "Sandwich shop. That's a new dress, but there's flour on the sleeve. You wouldn't dress like that for baking. Thumbnail: tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads, don't we?"
Mrs Hudson looked offended. Belle threw down her magazine, exasperated.
"Stop" she said. Sherlock merely glanced at her and continued.
Sherlock sniffed at Mrs Hudson." Mmm- Kasbah Nights. Pretty racy for first thing on a Monday morning, wouldn't you agree? I've written a little blog on the identification of perfumes. It's on the website – you should look it up"
Mrs Hudson huffed. "Please"
"I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr. Chatterjee. He's got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about."
John sat up "Sherlock!" he said angrily.
"Well, nobody except me" Sherlock added as an afterthought.
Mrs Hudson sniffed, teary eyed, obviously upset. "I don't know what you're talking about, I really don't" she stormed out of the flat, the door slamming closed.
Sherlock leapt over the back of his chair from behind it, then perched on the seat, wrapping his arm around his knees like a petulant child. John slammed his newspaper down.
"Idiot" Belle said, running out after Mrs Hudson. She knocked on her door, but she didn't answer. She ran outside, glancing around the streets.
Around the corner, she thought she saw a figure in black. After glancing again, it was gone. She ran after it, and Sherlock, behind the window, watched her go.
She panted, turning around. Nobody around. That was weird. Lately, she'd kept getting the feeling of being watched. She called Mycroft.
"Hey, Mycroft" she said, as he picked up.
"belle, dear, how are you?" Mycroft asked.
"M'fine, just wondering, have you got any leads on Moriarty?" she asked.
He left a pause. "Actually, my people have told me he's gone out of the country. He's found some new obsession, apparently. Good news for you though, he's completely forgotten about you, so you're safe" he said.
Looking at the flat, Belle felt a pang of sadness.
"Does this mean I can come out of hiding?" she asked "Leave the flat?"
"Yes, of course" Mycroft said "I'd stay for a few more days, while I make sure, then you can leave. Get a nice new flat, all to yourself" he said "I bet living with my brother was extremely grating?"
"Of course" she replied, and caught eyes with Sherlock. He was standing, looking curiously at her. She looked down, breaking the eye contact.
"Well, you'll be glad to go, then" he said "Listen, I have something important to do, may I call you later?"
"Yeah, sure" Belle replied "it's fine, I got what I wanted" she said, hanging up, and glancing behind her. No mysterious figure.
When she looked back at the window, Sherlock was gone, and a man stood, ringing the doorbell.
She watched as he entered the flat, and after a minute, followed.
When she arrived, Sherlock was showing off. Again.
"You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning. You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl in the seat across the aisle fancied you. Although you were initially keen, you've now changed your mind. You are, however, extremely anxious to have your first cigarette of the day. Sit down, Mr. Knight, and do please smoke. I'd be delighted"
"oh dear" Belle said. She held out of hand, the man shaking it.
"I'm Belle, Belle Astore" she said.
"Henry Knight. Henry" the man said, with a bit of a stutter.
"yes, yes, you find her attractive" Sherlock snapped.
Henry, belle and John stared at him.
"I'll continue" he said "Punched-out holes where your tickets been checked..."
"Not now, Sherlock" John said.
"The train napkin that you used to mop up the spilled coffee: the strength of the stain shows that you didn't take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it and round your lips and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast – or the nearest thing those trains can manage. Probably a sandwich- disappointing?" he didn't wait for an answer
"A girl – female handwriting's quite distinctive. Wrote her phone number down on the napkin. I can tell from the angle she was sat across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later –you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidentally smudging the numbers. You've been over the last four digits yourself with another pen, so you wanted to keep the number. Just now, though, you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you're not that into her after all. And of course, now you're attentions been caught by Belle, the girl can't compare, obviously, as you've scrunched the napkin. Then there's the nicotine stains on your fingers ... your shaking fingers. I know the signs" Sherlock finished, grinning like a madman.
"The first train from Exeter to London leaves at five forty-six a.m. You got the first one possible, so something important must have happened last night" Sherlock said, his gaze now intense.
"Now shut up and smoke"
Henry lit his cigarette and began to smoke. Sherlock leaned in closer. As Henry continued his story, Sherlock began to suck in the smoke in the air like a hoover.
"Oh, please stop" Belle groaned, as Henry stared at Sherlock.
"It's a strange place, the Hollow. Makes you feel so cold inside, so afraid" he whispered.
"Yes, if I wanted poetry, I'd read John's emails to his girlfriends. Much funnier"
Belle sniggered, and John sent her a look of betrayal.
"I can give you tips" Belle winked at him.
"I don't need... tips!" John said, blushing.
Belle cleared her throat, and quotes one of John's poems
"I think you're beautiful,
and not very dull,
you have nice hair
And I very much care" she said, giggling. "Krissy didn't last very long after she heard that!" belle joked. John glared at her, throwing a cushion.
Sherlock and Henry continued.
"Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!" Henry stated, loudly.
"Say that again" Sherlock said calmly. "Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them"
"Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic ... hound"
"I'll take the case" Sherlock said, a slow smile coming on his face.
"you're weird" belle stated, and Sherlock just beamed at her. "And stop smiling like that, it's creepy!" she said, throwing a cushion at him.
Hours later, bags packed, John and Sherlock left the apartment.
"Not coming?" John asked, as Belle sat in the armchair, contemplating.
"No, don't think so" she said "I mean, I've got work, and loads of stuff to do, so... No" John looked sad for a moment, setting the bags down.
"You're going to be leaving soon, is that right?" he asked.
"Did Sherlock guess?" she asked, and he nodded. "Yeah, I think I'll have to. This apartments too small for three people really, and there's no reason for me to stay anymore"
"You have plenty of reasons to stay" john said.
"Oh really?" she asked "Like what?"
"My sanity, for one" he said, and she gave a grin. "Seriously, having you around it's fun, and not as frustrating, and in his own way, even Sherlock wants you to stay"
"I doubt that" she scoffed.
"I mean it, I think it's the reason he told me, he'd knew I'd try and persuade you" John said.
"I'll think about it" Belle said.
"Well, if you do change your mind, come and find us" John said, picking his bags up, and closing the door.
They left at 10. And 11 o clock, belle opened the fridge. Nothing to eat. She searched the cupboards, then the fridge, then sat down.
She read an article of a magazine. Set it down. Picked it back up. Wondered about Sherlock and John.
At half 11, she sent a text to one of her friends. No reply. Went out, bought some food.
She cooked it, ate it. Turned the telly on. It turned to ten past 12. Cleaned up some of the apartment. Thought about Sherlock and John. Paced. Looked at the clock. Sat down.
Checked on Mrs Hudson. She wasn't in. Made a cup of tea. Finished it, washed the mug. Looked through her clothes. Thought about Henry Knight. Looked around her shoe rack. Discovered a pair of boots, and thought how perfect they'd be if she was in the woods were Sherlock and John were. Sighed again. Half twelve.
Read all of Johns blog. Folded away her clothes. Washed some more clothes. Sighed. Paced.
Turned one o'clock. Went to work. No shifts needed. She walked back. Did her hair. Put make up on. Tried to read a book. Chose another book. Took a shower. Re-applied her make-up. Turned on her i-pod and danced. Tripped over and sat down.
She sat in the armchair, mulling over the details of her day. She missed them. The apartment was too quiet, too empty. She missed John's jumpers, Sherlock's deductions. The sound of the violin, the tapping of the keystrokes. She missed Sherlock's laugh, of Johns smile.
She put her earphones in, and shuffled a song.
'Car is parked, bags are packed, but what kind of heart doesn't look back?' She pressed skip. She couldn't face sad songs reminding her of her flat mates. She knew that if she didn't go to Baskerville, she'd leave. She didn't want to leave.
She made a decision.
She had dressed, packed and got to the train station as quick as she could. Somehow, she managed to make it to a little pub. She walked in and ordered a drink. Two men chatted away to her, a taller, more rounded man, and a short one with a ginger moustache and slightly nasal voice.
"You haven't happened to see two guys around here?" she asked "one tall, dark-haired, show off, the other blonde, wears a jumper-"
"oh yeah, we saw them. Lovely couple" the little one said "John and- Sampson, wasn't it?"
"Sherlock" Belle replied automatically. "Wait- couple?" she asked.
"yep. They were heading out to Baskerville, I think" the taller one said.
"Can I hire a car anywhere around here?" Belle asked.
After urging the driver to speed on, Belle glanced along the long, winding road. She saw Baskerville, a while ahead, and on the road in front, a black jeep. It had to be them.
"I'll give you two hundred pounds if she catch up to that jeep, and another three hundred if you take my stuff back to the pub and grab me a room" she said, breathless. The cabbie looked at her in confusion, and she said "And a extra hundred and a drink on me if you're there when I'm back!"
"Sure, love" he said, speeding up. The black jeep caught up to the gates, and stopped, Belle's car behind them. She jumped out of hers and got into the back middle seat of the jeep.
"Hello lads!" she said, breathless.
"Belle!" John exclaimed.
"Told you she'd come" Sherlock said "Even if you lasted a few more hours than I expected" he said.
She grinned, catching her breath. "you know me Sherlock, I'm a magnet for danger. Now, what are we doing?" she asked.
She saw the military people take Sherlock card and a tiny picture of Mycroft came up. John panicked.
"We'll get caught in five minutes. "Oh, hi, we just thought we'd come and have a wander round your top secret weapons base." "Really? Great! Come in – kettle's just boiled." That's if we don't get shot" he added as an afterthought.
"Sounds interesting. This is all to do with Henry knight?" Belle asked.
"yep" Sherlock said, driving through.
As they got out of the car, a young solider came up.
"Are we in trouble?" he asked, looking at Sherlock.
"Are we in trouble- Sir" Sherlock said, disapprovingly.
"Your ID showed up straight away, Mr. Holmes. Corporal Lyons, security. Is there something wrong, sir?"
"We hope not, corporal. I'm Lieutenant Astore, British Army" Belle said sternly. Lyons glanced at her, doing a double take. She flashed her ID.
"yes... ma'aam- lieutenant" he said, giving a shot bow of the head and then a salute. "It's just we don't get inspected here, you see, sir. It just doesn't happen" he insisted.
Belle could feel both Sherlock and John inspecting her. "I'm guessing Mycroft didn't mention I was in the army?" she murmured.
"Wow" john said, then turned to the young man, Lyons. "Ever heard of a spot check?" John added. Belle folded her arms, enjoying this, her heart pounding.
John showed the corporal some kind of ID. "Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers"
The corporal came to attention and saluted John, and Belle again.
"Sir. Major Barrymore won't be pleased, sir. He'll want to see you all"
"I'm afraid we won't have time for that. We'll need the full tour right away. Carry on" John said, growing more impressive. Belle could see the corporal wavering.
"That is an order, corporal" softly, with steel in her voice.
"yes ma'am" he said, spinning on his heel and walking forward.
"nice" john whispered.
"Yes, that was... good. Very good" Sherlock added.
"Of course" Belle winked at him.
Then they entered the building.
