AN: Hello again! Just wanted to give you guys a heads up and say this chapter focuses mostly on Rosalie and her past a bit more and how she settles in London. Hope you enjoy!
I don't own Sherlock!
Chapter 4
Rosalie groaned as her eyes opened to meet sunlight. She had forgotten to close the curtains last night when she arrived at the hotel she had booked, simply throwing things onto the floor by the dresser and not bothering to change. She just took off her top pants and left her leggings and sweater on before crawling under the blankets. She didn't even make it to the pillow before she was asleep, the adrenaline wearing off the further she got from Baker Street.
She had asked John for the laptop once she was finished with her food and he let her use it while John and Sherlock talked some more. John even gave some suggestions but Sherlock had the better ones.
"Not that one, the manager is a drug dealer and half of his staff is likely to pocket something small and valuable."
"Nope, the cleaning staff are all useless at their job and likely to leave everything a mess. That and they have a horrible case of bed bugs at the moment."
"The manager there is incompetent. Don't even know how he managed to obtain that position."
"No, that's more of a brothel than anything else."
Rosalie and John just looked at Sherlock before the three found a place not too far from where they were. She quickly booked a room and soon the three were heading back to 221B where Rosalie grabbed her bags and said her goodbyes.
"You sure you don't need help?" John stood next to Rosalie as she hauled the last of her things to the curb side. "Yeah, I should be fine." John nodded, but he did wait with her till a taxi came and picked her up. Before she could protest, John lifted the big bag and got it into the boot. Rosalie shook her head and placed her roll on carry on in as well, keeping her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Thank you, John."
"Don't mention it. Stop by for some tea when you can. Maybe I can bring you around to see some of the sites." Rosalie beamed at him brightly. "I would like that." Soon enough, they said goodbye again and Rosalie got into the taxi, gave the driver the address and she went on her way.
Rosalie smiled at the memory. But now she had to actually get up. Groaning, she sat and stretched in bed before yanking the blankets off her legs. The carpet was warm from sunlight and comfortable against her bare feet. She smiled and did a full body stretch. Popping filled the room as her spine arched. The tension left her body and Rosalie stood there a moment before getting on with her morning rituals. She grabbed some warm clothes from her bag and headed to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, she began to undress and hopped into the shower.
'What am I going to do today?' she thought as she let the warm water wash over her. She had already decided that she was going to stay and most likely stay in touch with John and possibly Sherlock. 'First things first is that I'm going to need to find a place to live.' She couldn't just stay in a hotel the whole time, she would definitely need to find a flat somewhere in London to live. That brought a smile to her face. She had remembered that on the plane she wanted to live in 221C. 'That would be cool.' She thought as she began to wash her long dirty blonde hair. But she had only just met the boys. Maybe somewhere else would have to do. Not until she was on a better relationship with the boys could she move into the flat below.
She quickly finished up her shower and got out, drying off and hanging the towel over the shower rail to dry. Dressing in jeans and a forest green sweater, she wrapped a towel around her hair before brushing her teeth. Once she was done, she emerged from the bathroom with a new plan: find a new home.
Plopping down on the bed, she grabbed her phone before she stopped. She had still yet to turn it back on from the plane and her true family was more than likely worried about her but something else popped into her head. Would it even work? It was from another world. She pulled the towel off her head and laid back down on the bed, legs hanging over the edge and toes brushing the carpet.
'I've been so caught up with the fact that I'm in another world that I didn't even realize that my phone might not work?' She looked at the smartphone in her hand. The screen was black and Rosalie stared and wondered at it before finally she pushed the power button. The screen flashed and lights appeared and danced across it. A few moments later, Van Gogh's Starry night appeared and she swiped to the right, punched in her passcode which was the date Avery and her were supposed to marry, and all her apps appeared on the screen. But nothing happened. No message alerts, no missed calls. Nothing. Rosalie huffed and threw her arm down, staring at the ceiling. Then her phone exploded.
It vibrated for a solid two minutes before the influx of texts and voicemails and missed calls stopped coming in. Rosalie sat up and watched as the number on her screen grew higher and higher for each one and when the phone settled, she had nearly two hundred texts, almost fifty missed calls and most of them had a voicemail to go with them. She sat in disbelief. Slowly she opened her messages and found that most were from Becky and Stacey.
B: Rosalie, come outside. We're here!
B: Rosie, where are you?
S: Where did you go?
B: Ro. Boo boo. Light of my life. Babe, whered you go
S: Where are you?
S: We're here, but we can't find you. Please text back
S: Ro, where are you?
B: Just searched all over your house and can't find you. This isn't funny, where are you Rosalie
S: Just asked one of the maids and she said you went out last night. Where did you go? Are you alright?
B: WHY DID YOU GO TO THE AIRPORT?
S: Please call us, Becky and I are worried
Her eyes filled with tears as she read more and more of the texts, most of them asking where she was, if she was alright and safe and to please answer them. She hadn't meant to ignore them for so long but after realizing where she was, she just put this on the back burner and left it alone. Now she was regretting it. She scrolled through several other people texts, also asking where she was. Then she froze.
A: Where are you?
Avery was possibly the one she had been avoiding the most. She had found out about him cheating on her a couple days ago and immediately called off the engagement. Since then, Avery had been trying to contact her and talk with her. She did want to know why he had done it but all chances of talking with him again ever happening were ruined when she had talked to her paternal grandmother. Then she avoided him even more, told the guards at the gate to deny him access and ignored all his calls and texts. She had told Becky and Stacey only the part of the truth and they too gave him the cold shoulder. Now that she knew their whole relationship was practically a lie, she wanted nothing to do with Avery. So she ran away to get away from him.
There were a few missed calls from him, but mostly from Becky and Stacey as well as the house phone. She knew that the gardener and house matron, a married couple by the names of Albert and Dorothy Collins, were more than likely worried about her. They were the ones to console her after her parents died in a car accident when she was 17. The only remaining blood relative she had left was her paternal grandmother. She would have gotten custody of her if her birthday hadn't been so close. There was no real point for her to take over. She did however get to take over the family money again, but Rosalie got full rights to it as heir to the Williams wealth when she turned 21. Albert and Dorothy were the ones who consoled her along with Becky and Stacey after her parents' death. They helped her make the funeral arrangements and helped her out of her depression. While the two never did take her parents place, she still held them very close to her heart along with her best friends.
Rosalie listened to the voicemail of her friends pleading her to pick up as tears strolled down her face. She immediately deleted the ones Avery made as soon as she heard his voice. One voicemail however surprised her.
"Hello. This is Archibald, calling on behalf of Lady Adelaide. She has told me to inform you that she wishes for you to call her immediately after this message." 'So the old hag found out. Probably from Avery.' She deleted the message before listening to the end and finished up listening to the rest of the voice mails. Quickly sitting up and standing, Rosalie began to pace the hotel room, her thumb hovering over her phone.
'Should I call? It's a five hour difference between London and North Carolina. But this is another world. Maybe time runs a little different.' Pushing all doubt aside, Rosalie dialed Stacey's number and bite her lip, waiting for her friend to pick up.
'Would it even work?' She wondered as she listened to the dial tone. She was about to give up hope when she heard a clicking and someone breathing on the other side.
"Hey, who is this? It's like four in the morning." Air was caught in her throat as she heard her best friend mumble into the phone. The tears were burning her eyes and her sight became slightly blurry.
"Hey, Stacey." Silence was all she got in response. 'Did Stacey fall asleep?'
"Ro?"
"Yeah. It's me."
Rosalie pulled her phone away from her ear as Stacey began to yell. "Where the hell are you, bitch! We've been looking all over for you! Mrs. Dot asked the servants and one of the drivers said you headed to the airport the other night. And you didn't tell us anything! Do you know how worried sick we are because of you? When we got to your place and asked around and no one saw you, Mr. Bert and Mrs. Dot both got up and searched all over with us. We've been driving around the city looking for you until Mrs. Dot called and said she questioned one of the drivers who said you made him take you to the airport. Where are you exactly?" Stacey said, breath coming in a bit heavier. Rosalie could just about see her flailing her hands about point at no one and wave them around her, she always did talk with her hands.
"I'm in London."
"LONDON!" Stacey screeched. And then she began to rant. Honestly though, Rosalie was only half listening to her. She was just so damn happy to hear her friend's voice, even if said friend was royally pissed with her.
"Ro, are you even listening to me? God, you airhead, listen to me when I'm scolding you."
"Yes, mother." Rosalie smiled and sat down.
"Listen, I know Avery broke your heart and all, but was running away necessary?" Rosalie frowned at the question and looked at the ground. She hadn't told her friends about her grandmother's involvement with her relationship yet and now really wasn't a good time.
"Yes, it was. I had to get away from everything. And besides, you know I've always wanted to travel." Stacey scoffed on the other side. "Yeah, and now's your chance." The two sat in silence for a moment before Rosalie heard Stacey yawn.
"Sorry about calling so early. I figured I would let you know at least as soon as I could." Stacey just grumbled out something but Rosalie figured that she didn't care.
"I've got to go unfortunately. I've work in the morning." They had been on the phone for half an hour without Rosalie realizing it. She hummed out a responses. "I'll call Becky and Mr. Bert and Mrs. Dot in a couple of hours then."
"Alright. Listen, one last thing. Are you alright there?" Stacey asked worried. Rosalie just thought over the events of last night. Meeting Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had led her on an emotional roller coaster, but after dinner…
"Yeah, I'm good."
"Good. Text me when you call everyone." Rosalie agreed to and hung up. That went alright, she supposed. But now she had a curious question and she needed an answer quick. Popping open Pinterest, she typed in Sherlock head cannons.
Sure enough, all sorts of head cannons appeared. Some funny, some sad, some cross-over ones. Her eyes widened. Rosalie rushed to her messenger bag and pulling out her laptop, she powered it up and waited on the bed, resting her laptop on her legs. The moment her lock screen showed, she typed in her password and sat as the computer loaded up everything. Once Van Gogh's Starry Night over the Rhone appeared, she clicked down on google chrome and clicked on her most recent history, Netflix.
Sure enough, she still had Sherlock on her continue to watch list. This complicated things. While it was great that she could watch the season four finale now, being in the world of Sherlock was not a good thing when her phone and laptop had basically a rundown of the things to come.
She knew she was staying and would more than likely try to be friends with John and Sherlock. However, she needed to be careful. Sherlock could not get his hands on her phone or laptop at all. If he watched any part of the show, or read anything about it, it could alter things. Thinking, she quickly went to her settings and went through the security settings. She clicked on change the password and typed in her old password to verify that it was her. When she went in to type in a new password, she froze.
What could she possibly put down that Sherlock wouldn't figure out? Her mind became blank and she threw herself down on the bed. If Sherlock could figure out Major Barrymore's password just by looking around his office for a few minutes, Sherlock could easily figure out hers. Then it came. Launching herself off the bed, she held the laptop and quickly placed her hands over the key board and typed in one word.
Mystrade.
'He could never guess that.' She thought wickedly as she grinned down at her laptop. If Sherlock ever did get his hands on her laptop, he could never guess a ship name of his own brother and Lestrade. Still smiling like a fool, she grabbed her phone and went to change the settings on it as well. Her phone was able to both recognize fingerprints as well as use a password. She set it up just for that, pressing her thumb against the screen. When it asked for a password, she paused before deciding on using something else. If Sherlock did figure out her laptop, her phone couldn't have a similar passcode. Settling for using Clara's Wi-Fi password, she synced up her devices so that she could be alerted if someone got onto it.
Rosalie stood from the bed and replaced her laptop back to her bag. She decided then she was going to go see some of the sights and look around for a flat. It was already getting close to ten so lunch she would have to go out anyway. Brushing her now mostly dried hair and putting on some socks and her boots from yesterday, Rosalie reached for her jacket and wrapped her scarf around. When she went looking for her hat though…
"Where the hell did I put it?" She searched every possible place she could think, Wasn't in her pockets, or on the bed. Not in or around her bags either nor on top of the dresser or desk that was in the room. Rosalie huffed and stomped her foot. She thought back to when she had last had it.
She made sure she had it on the plane. She didn't take it off in the taxi to Angelo's and she didn't remove it then either. She had it when she ran after John and Sherlock and took it off when they made it to Baker Street. After Sherlock left and John and Rosalie followed… she didn't grab it. She remembered now just wrapping her scarf around her necking before pushing John towards the door. It must have fallen and she had completely forgotten about it. The scarf and hat were a gift to her from the Collins back home and she took them everywhere she went whenever there was even a slight wind on a chilly day.
Groaning, she grabbed her wallet phone and key card for the hotel room before yanking the door open and shutting it behind her. She half walked half ran down the hall to the elevators, pushing the down arrow, she mental scolded herself for not noticing sooner. It was a precious gift from somebody she loved dearly. How had she not noticed?
The elevator dinged, she got in where she pushed the button for the lobby. She got down there and marched her way out of the hotel, ignoring the people around her. Walking quickly to the curb, she hailed a cab. One came just about immediately and she hopped in. "221 Baker Street, please."
The driver nodded. It didn't take long for the taxi to get there, roughly ten minutes. She let her eyes wander as the taxi took her to Baker Street. When he did stop, she tipped him and got out and he drove off.
The door was the same as it always appeared. The golden numbers bright against the black paint. The door knocker hung slightly to the right. The American walked up the few steps and knocked on the door. She waited a moment there before she knocked again. 'I wonder who will open the door.' Sherlock was obviously not an option as he never did, but if John was in, he might or Mrs. Hudson would.
She heard a lock slide and soon Rosalie came face to face with Mrs. Hudson. The little old woman gave her a smile as she opened the door wider.
"Oh, hello, dearie. How can I help you?" Mrs. Hudson greeted her. Rosalie smiled up to the woman. "Hello ma'am. I was here yesterday with John and Sherlock. I accidently left my hat here." Mrs. Hudson seemed to know which hat she was talking about because she smiled wider and nodded Rosalie inside.
"Come on in, dearie. I think I know what you're talking about. Sherlock said you left it behind!" Rosalie followed the landlady in and shut the door behind her. She turned around to see Mrs. Hudson halfway up the stairs though.
"Um, where is my hat?" She called out. Mrs. Hudson just motioned her to follow and Rosalie bounded up the stairs after her. "Sherlock found it lying by the stairs, said it was yours and took it up to his flat. Figured you would be back to get it and here you are!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. She didn't bother to knock before opening the door to Sherlock's living room.
There on the table was a familiar blue hat. Rosalie smiled, walked around and grabbed it when a voice spoke up. "Your grandmother gave that to you, didn't she?" Both Mrs. Hudson and Rosalie jumped at Sherlock's voice. They whipped around and found Sherlock dressed in his pajamas and in his dressing gown looking into a microscope.
"Don't do that!" Rosalie whispered, trying to calm her heart. That had scared her and she glared at Sherlock for doing it. The man didn't even look up from his microscope. "Your grandmother gave that to you." The American just looked at Sherlock, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. Sherlock sighed. "The hat."
"Oh." She looked down at the hat in her hand and ran her thumb over the edge of it. "No, actually. A friend did."
"Really? Not your grandmother?" Sherlock got up then and walked up to the woman who barely reached his chin. She looked up defiantly at him and he could see something akin to mischief flash across her eyes. "Nope." She popped the 'p' again and he glared. Then he looked down to the hat he examined last night. Worn a lot and repaired twice by the same person who had hand knitted it. It was made of Shetland wool, and not something a wealthy woman would normally buy, a gift he had assumed from someone close to her. A parent maybe, but grandmothers was a more likely option. But she was saying a friend. It would have to be someone older, much older, as the knitting was uniform from practice, but usually people stayed in a certain age bracket for friends. People made friends with others close to their own age, and this woman barely looked old enough to be on her own.
"Then who?" The woman was infuriating him. He knew something was off about her and now he was making wrong deductions about her. Rosalie could see he didn't like to be wrong and smirked at him. "Like I said, a friend. Thank you though for keeping it safe for me." She gave him her most disarming smile she could. Sherlock just grunted and returned to his microscope, flapping his dressing gown out of the way as he sat. Rosalie rolled her eyes.
"Oh, hello Rosie." John now stood in the doorway behind Mrs. Hudson. The landlady turned back and greeted John enthusiastically before she headed back downstairs. John smiled at her before coming into the flat. The doctor came in and took a seat in his chair. Rosalie decided to have a seat as well and plopped down in Sherlock's chair.
"That's my chair."
Rosalie rolled her eyes at the man. He hadn't looked their way but knew Rosalie took his chair for the moment. "You're not using it. I want to have a conversation with John for a little bit." Sherlock turned his head and glared at her. She glared right back before Sherlock turned back around. She had remembered her little list of things she thought of before falling asleep on the plane. Taking none of Sherlock's bullshit was one of them.
"And hello, John. How are you?" She asked, turning her attention back to the army doctor. He smiled and told that he was alright.
"Spent most of the night packing up my things to bring here. I'll be moving in with Sherlock soon." Rosalie's eyes widened a bit, for show of course. She had already knew he would move in. But she had to keep appearances now. "Really? That was quick." John laughed and nodded.
"Yeah, actually it was a mutual colleague of ours that introduced us. Sherlock met Mike first and said something about how it must be difficult to find a flat mate for someone like him. Then Mike met me at lunch and I told him about my situation. He said that I was the second person to mention about needing a flat mate. So he introduced us. Well maybe not introduced us, he just showed me to where Sherlock was than Sherlock did his thing and told me my life story. He even went on to list some of the things he does, because flat mates should know the worst about each other. But anyway, that's how it started really."
Rosalie nodded and sat further into the chair. It was really comfortable. And surprisingly squishy. She listened to John go on about how Sherlock and him met. It was cool to actually hear it from the man himself and not from the other side of a screen. It just made her smile more and her decision to stay even better. She would miss seeing her friends, but this was amazing.
"So what have you seen of London so far?" John asked. Rosalie had been listening to him talking for a while now and he was curious how she was getting along in the city. She really was a sweet girl, making sure everything was paid for and all that. She also was strange in a way. She had made a point of him only knowing Sherlock for such a small amount of time and yet he killed for him. She just seemed to have this look in her eyes, something he couldn't place.
"Well, I haven't seen much. Spent most of my morning going through my phone and letting everyone know I was safe. Now really I'm just looking for a place to settle down. I can't stay in a hotel forever. So I guess I'm looking for a flat now."
At that moment Mrs. Hudson came in with a tray of tea things. "Here, I brought you some tea." John thanked her and began to pour some out of the teapot when Mrs. Hudson turned to Rosalie. "Couldn't help myself, dear, but I heard that you were looking for a flat. I have another one downstairs if you want to look."
'You have got to be kidding me.' She had thought of living in 221C before but with Sherlock so close she was worried that she would reveal something she wouldn't mean to. And she had only just met the boys, she couldn't just move in downstairs, it would look strange. But Mrs. Hudson was giving her a chance. Rosalie beamed at the woman and shot out of the chair. "Sure. I'll say that this is the fastest I've ever been able to find a place." Mrs. Hudson smiled and began to talk about the place downstairs as she led the American that way.
"It's quite roomy. There's a main bedroom and another room you can use as a guest room or office. The living room has got a working fireplace you can use. The bathroom and kitchen are all up to date equipment wise so you won't to worry about that. The bathroom is right next to the bedrooms." Mrs. Hudson went on, listing other facts about it as well.
They made it down to the first floor and Mrs. Hudson excused herself for a moment to retrieve the key. When she got back, she quickly unlocked it and led Rosalie down the short flight of stairs.
She could smell the damp as soon as she entered. The ceiling was higher than she had expected. The windows were much lower as well. The walls however showed signs of decay and the plaster was peeling from the wall around the fireplace. But she turned to the right and saw the kitchen and hallway. The kitchen wasn't so bad, just some of the tilling on the wall falling away but everything looked clean. The hallway was dark but she could make out the three doors which must have led to the two bedrooms and bathroom. She peeked inside the first bedroom and saw just the walls being a problem again. The bathroom was clean, and again only the walls cracking. The final bedroom held a lot of promise. The walls weren't nearly as bad and there were large windows that gave lots of light to the room.
"So what do you think? I know it's a bit of a fixer upper but it wouldn't be too much work." Mrs. Hudson was wringing her hands as she watched Rosalie wander around the flat. Rosalie turned to Mrs. Hudson, gave her a blank stare before smiling wide.
"Do you mind if I paint the walls?" Mrs. Hudson paused then gasped.
"Oh, you'll take it then?" She asked hopefully. Rosalie nodded and Mrs. Hudson just about leapt for joy. "Come upstairs, sweetie. I have some paperwork for you to fill out then." The two made their way upstairs and Rosalie soon found herself sitting at Mrs. Hudson's kitchen table, a pile of paperwork in front of her. They talked about the price and Rosalie only have heard it. She did ask though if it were possible for some workers to come in and clean up the damp and walls.
"I'll pay for it of course. I could possibly do it myself but I think a professional might be a better option." Mrs. Hudson agreed. "It's what been keeping most people away actually. I remember when I had a flat like that. Terrible business. But luckily wasn't there too long."
They soon finished up all the necessary paperwork and Mrs. Hudson said she would have a key made for her tomorrow. Smiling brightly, Rosalie thanked the woman for all her help. Mrs. Hudson waved her off. "Nonsense, dearie. I'm just glad to finally rent out the place."
The blond nodded. Suddenly her phone went off. Reaching out and pulling it out, she saw that she had a text from Stacey saying that Becky was expecting her to call soon. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Hudson, but I've got to take this." Mrs. Hudson just nodded and Rosalie took that as her cue to leave. She waved one more time back to Mrs. Hudson before leaving her flat.
Outside, Rosalie looked up and saw John coming down the stairs. "Hey there, neighbor." She said. John stopped mid step and stared at her. "What?" Rosalie smiled before she nodded her head back to 221A. "Just finished the paperwork. I'll be moving into the flat below." His eyes widened and then he smiled. "That's great. Lucky for you to find a place so quickly." She smiled to him and she began to head towards the front door. "Well, I've got to dash. Need to make some calls. Bye John!" They waved to each other before John watched Rosalie go out the door. His smile faded from his face.
When Mrs. Hudson left and the American woman followed, Sherlock got up and began to pace the room. "What are you doing?" John asked, startled a little by the sudden change in Sherlock.
"Thinking." The man barked. He paced and paced for a while before John leaned back and stared at him. "Thinking about what?"
"That woman."
"Who, Rosie?" Now John was puzzled. Sherlock stopped and point to the door. "That woman is holding something back. Not once has she held my gaze besides to infuriate me, every other time her eyes keep flicking around never staying still. I don't think she even knows she's doing it, but she is and its a sure sign of holding something back. But something has been bothering me."
"What Sherlock?"
"She froze."
Bewildered now, John has no idea where this was going. "Froze?"
"Yes. Froze. When Mrs. Hudson announced the cabbie was here, I saw her tense up when Mrs. Hudson said that. And then I caught a glimpse of her in the window when I was talking to the cabbie." Sherlock sat down in his own chair and faced John. "She knows something and I want to know what. I mean what sort of woman chases after two men through London on an abandoned tab. She also called me a high functioning sociopath when we first met, something no one has known on the spot before. She knows something and I can't figure out what." Sherlock growled as he leaned back into his chair and glared off to the side.
John thought over everything Sherlock said. He has noticed Rosie not looking well several times during the time they had met. She had a reasonable excuse each time but he remembered when she froze on front of the fire place. She looked to be on the edge of a mental breakdown, not tired from jet lag like she said. And then she had moved to the window straight after Sherlock went out. Maybe Sherlock was right. There was some truth to his words. However, John wanted to form his own opinions before thinking badly of the girl.
"Well then, I best be off. I need to finish packing. Just wanted to come let you know I would be coming tomorrow most likely." Sherlock hummed and John just got up and left him there to think. John was about half way down the stairs when he heard Rosalie.
Now he stood at the bottom of the stairs and pulled on his coat. Sherlock was right about something. There was something off about her. But John wanted to get to know more about her before coming to any conclusions now. Sherlock would figure it out eventually.
AN: So, what do you think? I wanted to tell more about Rosalie before going into The Blind Banker. I wanted her to have access to her old life so it would seem normal for her to text and call her friends, but I also wanted her to have access to the show because then she would be super protective of her laptop and actions speak louder than words. And I did my math wrong before, it's closer to two months between the cases. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I've already plotted out most of five. And I also have an idea for when Sherlock figures it out because honestly, only Mycroft can keep a secret from Sherlock super long. I hope to hear from you all soon! Bye!
