Hey guys! How have you been? I'm happy to see that we are growing slightly, that makes my day! I'll have to agree with Lili and galwidanatitud, Sherlock is behaving like a petulant child. If only he wasn't so gosh darn cute… Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter, and keep the R&R coming! I appreciate your follows, love and support! Happy readings, my doves.
Sherlock's infamy had certainly caught up with her. Victoria had not seen him since John and Mary's wedding. When she had gone over to his flat, he had not answered the door. Mrs. Hudson had offered her an apologetic look, Victoria knew that the elderly woman put up with a lot on the consulting detective's account, so she had decided not to push the subject further even though she knew that he was most likely hiding out in there. Finally, she had decided to leave well enough alone, if he wanted to act like a petulant child and ignore her, then that was his prerogative. She had more important things to do, like sort out her own booming business. Her bookstore had certainly gained some momentum in the past year, she liked to believe that people were finally paying some genuine interest in her literary choices, but a visit she had proved exactly the opposite.
She had been sat at her small counter, pretending to read a book whilst watching over her customers. A small group of school-girls walked in, giggling whilst they rummaged through the shelves. The four girls did not look like they were much older than thirteen or fourteen, they certainly had that look about them that they were up to no good. Victoria sighed to herself and continued to skim lazily through her book, an old copy of "La Reine Margot" that she had not had the time to read properly. "Excuse me, ma'am – are you Victoria Quinn?" A young voice piped up, her voice filled with childish humour and a lack of propriety.
Victoria pondered over the fact that the young girl had actually called her ma'am, before she set down her book and looked up at them. They were all standing behind her counter, eagerly awaiting her response. "Yes darling, what made you come to that conclusion? The sign perhaps?" she couldn't help but to be slightly snarky to the girls, seeing as her store was called "Victoria Quinn's Bookshop – a book to get you hooked". She had considered getting a new sign with a slightly catchier slogan, she had admittedly had a few glasses of wine when she sent off the instructions to the people who were designing said sign.
The girls giggled slightly at her response and nudged each other slightly. "Isn't this the day that Sherlock Holmes comes here?" a dark-haired girl asked shamelessly. Victoria cocked an eyebrow, wondering if the scenario taking place in front of her was actually for real, or if it was just a bad dream. "I don't keep track of when different customers come here, dear." She tiredly stated, gently rubbing her right temple with her fingers. "I heard from my friend Daisy that he's always here on this day, so when is he coming? He's so hot!" The comment alone was enough for Victoria's face to turn a deep shade of crimson before she swiftly stood up and headed over to the girls to try and shoo them out. "Alright girls, that's it. Go on now." Victoria huffed as she hurried the girls along. They complained slightly as she ushered them out, making a few of her other customers' giggle silently.
When she closed down, Victoria was still fuming. Since when had her place of business turned into some meet-and-great for the consulting detective? She hurried over to Sherlock's house, determination in her step. He was not going to ignore her this time. She approached 221B Baker street quickly, her anger definitely played a big part in her unusual speed. Once she strode up the stairs and knocked violently, it only took Mrs. Hudson a minute to open the front door. "Yes, dear? Are you here for supper?" The sweet lady asked, seemingly more pleased to see Victoria than she had anticipated. "No, Mrs. Hudson. I'm here to speak with Sherlock."
"Well… He's not in at the moment. I can take a message for you if you'd like?"
"I can assure you that said message would be filled with such profanities that you would want to burn it immediately, Mrs. Hudson. Now, I know he's in. I might not have his ability of deductions, but I can certainly tell when you're lying. I am very sorry, but I am about to barge in." Victoria stated, her voice slightly shaky. Mrs. Hudson simply nodded and let her in, allowing Victoria to run up the stairs to his flat. She was just about to bang at his door before it creaked open by itself. Victoria strode in and saw Sherlock in his bathrobe, a violin in hand. He looked slightly amused at the sight of her – in all honesty, she was probably sweaty and dishevelled from running all the way over there. "Honestly, there is no need to get so angry Victoria. Poor manners." Sherlock reprimanded her, making Victoria's blood boil.
She strode over to him and grabbed the violin from his hands. By doing so, Sherlock's eyes widened slightly, obviously he had not anticipated that he would make her so angry. She set the instrument down on the floor before pointing at him with a shaky hand. "You! You are going to take that blog of yours down, this instant!"
Sherlock tightened the deep purple robe that he had draped over his thin frame before replying: "First off, it's John's blog – and second, why would I do that?"
"Because you have turned my shop into some sort of circus! Just today, a group of girls walked in and started inquiring about the famous Sherlock Holmes. The other day, a man tried to convince me that you needed to take his case. That's my business Sherlock, it's my livelihood! "
"Was it interesting?" Sherlock asked, making Victoria stop ranting. "Was what interesting?" she asked against better judgement. Mr. Holmes rolled his eyes at her and continued: "The case. Was it interesting?"
By then, he had angered her so much that she took the finger she had been pointing at him and prodded it into his chest. "I will hurt you. Don't make me hurt you. You will make John issue a blog post about respecting peoples' privacy, and you will do it this instant!" she shouted, whilst continuing to poke him. Sherlock sighed and grabbed her hand in his, lowering it from his chest. "This is exactly why I did not want to see you, for your information. You're too… Loud."
Victoria swatted his hand away from her own and grabbed the collar of his robe in both of her pale hands before growling an alarming number of profanities at him. Much to her surprise, Sherlock edged closer to her and made her back up until her back hit the wall behind her. At this point, she had no idea what was going on. She still held onto the collar of his robe as he stood in front of her. Sherlock leaned in and set both of his arms on each side of her head before inching his face closer to her own. Once Victoria could feel his breath on her lips, she gulped slightly. Sherlock continued inching closer to her, and let his mouth get near her ear -blowing small puffs of breath onto it. "I'll tell him to write something appropriate." He muttered seductively, making Victoria blush deeply. He leaned back slightly and stared intensely into her eyes. "T-thank you." Victoria stuttered, letting go of him as she did. Seeing as she was still dating Oliver, the current position she was in seemed extremely inappropriate.
Sherlock lined his entire body up with her own, at this point – Victoria was definitely about to pass out. He continued to look straight into her eyes, and she did not dare to look down even for a second. "See, now your pupils are definitely dilated." He then muttered, ruining the mood slightly. Victoria had no intentions of letting him get the upper hand in any way, but before she could shove him away from her a man cleared his throat from beside them. "Ah, Mycroft." Sherlock greeted the man. The entire scene had startled her, making her jump slightly to her right away from both of them. Realizing that she was meeting Sherlock's brother for the first time in the risqué position that they were in made her blush even more, if that was even possible at that point.
Victoria straightened her black midi dress that was now slightly sweaty from Sherlock's advances, before finally daring to look at Mycroft. She had never met him in person, but from what she was told, he was even more intimidating than his younger brother. "Miss Quinn, I presume?" Mycroft greeted her. The tone in his voice was slightly derogatory, but she could not in all fairness blame him either. She waved one of her hands awkwardly whilst nodding: "Ah yes, that's me."
Victoria felt like she had done enough awkward standing around, so she slumped down in John's usual armchair – she was honestly exhausted from all that the day had had to offer her thus far. "Why are you here, brother?" Sherlock asked, tightening his robe once more before heading over to sit in his own chair. Victoria had assumed so far that Sherlock had been attempting to seduce her only to prove a point, but she could see a hint of redness on the nape of his neck. Could it be possible that she had managed to affect him in some way?
"I am actually here because of your… Friend." Mycroft announced as he sat down in the chair that Sherlock and John usually kept out for clients. Victoria furrowed her brows, not quite sure what he was saying. "You're here because of me?" she asked, mentally slapping herself for asking such an obvious question around the two Holmes brothers. "Yes. I received some unfortunate information about Miss Quinn. It would seem that someone has been following her."
The news Mycroft gave her seemed mind-boggling. She had barely noticed anything at all. "And who is following me? Did you get that information as well?" Victoria asked, her voice slightly more high-pitched than usual. Who could really blame her, she had gone from throwing out school girls to finding out that she was being stalked all in one day.
"I did. It's a Russian assassin by the name of Ksenia Petrovja, but the more alarming news is that she used to work for Moriarty. It would appear that you did not do as good of a job as you originally thought, little brother." Mycroft informed the pair. Victoria glanced over at Sherlock, who seemed deep in thought. She had heard very little of Moriarty, only that he was the reason as to why Sherlock faked his own death. Only, as far as she knew – the consulting criminal was dead as well. "Is she trying to settle some form of debt? What am I supposed to do now? What if she's outside right now?" she rambled, trying to come to terms with her current predicament.
"You'll stay here." Sherlock piped up solemnly, he had stayed quiet up until then. Victoria did not necessarily know how to feel about that. She had found that the more she got involved with Sherlock, the more her own life changed for the worse. "That would be wise. And I can assure you that she is somewhere around here, otherwise she would not be very good at her job. But we do have men on the inside roaming around as well. If this is another link to Moriarty then we cannot afford to miss it on account of you, Victoria." Mycroft continued, placing emphasis on her name. Somehow she got the feeling like she was inconveniencing him by being there, if anything – she was quite certain that Mycroft cared very little for what happened to her, if only he could protect his brother. All of this she could definitely wrap her head around, it seemed natural, but she was ultimately the innocent one in this scenario.
"Well, I can't go to work or go anywhere for that matter. How are you not more worried?" she exclaimed, pointing her accusation at Sherlock – who still kept annoyingly quiet. He glanced over at her, a cold expression on his face. "If she wanted to kill you, then she would have already. She is most likely gathering information; the real question is on what." He deducted, leaving Victoria less than satisfied. When Sherlock had finished, Mycroft sighed once more before standing up and fixing his heavy coat slightly. "I would suggest you keep an eye out. Goodnight, brother – goodnight Miss Quinn."
Before Victoria had a chance to reply, he had already headed out of the door. She stood up swiftly and rushed over to the window. She tried to see something, but was unable to do so. A chill ran up her spine, and she suddenly got the feeling that she shouldn't be standing so close to an open window. Whirling around, she was instantly met by Sherlock. "You can stay in John's room. I'll leave some of my shirts and looser pants in there."
Having decided that she was too tired to argue, Victoria made her way inside of John's old room and tried to calm herself down. After nightfall, when she had put on one of the simple white shirts Sherlock had brought her – she laid under the covers, trying to make sense of her chaotic day. Whenever something creaked, she was startled. Victoria raised her arm to look at the small clock she kept on a thin wristband – it had turned to three in the morning. Against better judgement, which seemed to be a common theme for the night, she got up and creeped out of her room and over to the curly-haired man that she had such a complicated relationship with. He could attempt to toss her out if he wanted to, but she was not sleeping alone. He owed her that much. Once she opened the door and snuck inside – she could see his large bed along with Sherlock sprawled across it. He looked like he was sleeping.
Having made her way over to the bed in an instant, she sat down as quietly as she possibly could before sneaking under the covers and laying her head down on one of his pillows. When he started to stir in his sleep, she quickly closed her eyes and pretended to have dozed off. A hand tucked a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear, and then left her. He didn't move or say anything snarky, he just let her stay there with him. Victoria hardly felt safe from the new threat that had entered her life, but knowing that he was there for her did ease her worry. If only for a little bit.