There was a knock on Anne's bedroom door. She ignored it at first, trying to continue reading her book- a Jane Austen novel that she was really enjoying- but the knocking only got more persistent.
"Yes?" Anne asked.
The door opened and Sherlock stepped into the room. He examined the room before sitting down on the bed besides Anne.
"Jane Austen?" asked Sherlock, "Do you like it?"
"I like the style of writing. The story is good." said Anne, "Why are you here?"
"Johns out and I'm bored." said Sherlock
"Where's John?" asked Anne
"I sent him out to talk to Mycroft about that case." said Sherlock
"Thank god, he started to text me." said Anne with a laugh.
It was quiet for a moment while Sherlock got up to get a book from the bookshelf. It was Anne's fake book. He sat back down on the bed and laid the book besides Anne.
"Can we talk?" asked Sherlock.
Anne looked at her hands. What was Sherlock going to say? Anne was angry with him that was for sure. He didn't have the right to control her. She wasn't a child anymore.
"Anne?" asked Sherlock trying to get her to respond
"I'm not a child anymore you know." said Anne trying to stay calm, "Did you send John off just so we could talk? Well I have news for you Sherlock, I can make my own decisions."
Anne enunciated every word in the last sentence. She didn't want to talk to Sherlock. She didn't need his advice. She didn't need his bloody sympathy. She didn't need anything from him.
"I disagree. Anne, we've been down this road before." said Sherlock reaching to hold her hand, "Its going to be alright you know? I can get you through this. John and I, we can help. I will always be there for you and I'm sure John would say the very same thing. You know, he's been my flat mate for a couple months now and he's never asked what I wanted for dinner."
Anne laughed through the tears that had begun to fall down her face.
"Sherlock," Anne squeezed his hand tighter, "Help me. I can't do this anymore."
"Come on, follow me." said Sherlock as he stood up and began to lead Anne out of the room. They walked downstairs into the living room and they sat down in the arm chairs, "You know the skull? He was an old friend. I lost him to drugs. I keep the skull here to remind me not to do down that road again. Perhaps if you came with John and I today for the case it would get you mind off of it. I'll be following John when he goes to investigate Mycrofts case. You can come with me."
"If you think it will help." said Anne
"Good. Why don't you get dressed and we can be off." said Sherlock
John arrived just as Anne was standing up.
"Anne? What's wrong?" asked John seeing her face
"Nothing she's just getting used to everything." said Sherlock quickly and smiling unconvincingly, "What did Mycroft have to say?"
"He said the man was twenty-seven, clerk at Vauxhall cross, MI6," John looked down at his notes, "He was involved in the Bruce-Partington Programme in minor capacity. Security checks were fine, no terrorist affinities or sympathies, and last seen by his fiancée at ten-thirty yesterday evening and he had an Oyster card but hadn't used it and no ticket on the body."
"Good, very good John. Before you investigate further, we have to stop at Scotland Yard." said Sherlock putting on his coat
"I'm investigating?" asked John
"Yes, I'm occupied at the moment." said Sherlock heading out the door, "Anne, ready to go?"
Anne came bounding down the stairs.
"Yes, where are we going?"
"Scotland Yard." said Sherlock heading down the stairs.
Sherlock was standing at the window, his hands steepled under his chin. Anne was sitting by John drinking a soda- Vimeo Zero Fizzy to be exact- the only soda she could really stand to drink.
"Told her to phone you. She had to read out from this pager." said Lestrade, he was explaining the set up of the bombers victim.
"And if she deviated by one word, the sniper would set her off." said Sherlock
"Or if you hadn't solved the case." said John
"Oh, elegant." muttered Sherlock
"Elegant?" asked Anne
"But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?" asked Lestrade
"Oh, I can't be the only one who gets bored." said Sherlock
"You aren't the only one who gets bored." muttered Anne to herself.
Sherlock led the way into the office of the car rental. Anne was making jokes to herself about the whole situation. It seemed the only way to distract herself from what was really going on. In the back of her mind she was constantly planning escape routes and going through various what-if situations regardless of whether or not they were ridiculously far-fetched. She was trying her best not to reach out for John or Sherlocks hand, embarrassed even by the thought of it.
"Can't see how I can help you gentlemen." said the salesman who had introduced himself as Ewert. A strange name that was thought Anne.
"Mr. Monkford hired the car from you yesterday." said John
"Hello by the way." muttered Anne annoyed that she hadn't been acknowledged.
"Yeah, lovely motor. Mazda RX-8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself." said Ewert
"Is that one?" asked Sherlock quickly glancing to look at the mans neck as he turned to look at the car Sherlock had pointed out.
"No, they're all Jags. Yeah, I can see you're not much of a car man, eh?" said Ewert
"But, ah, surely you can afford one- a Mazda, I mean." said Sherlock
"Yeah it's a fair point. But you know how it is- it's like working in a sweetshop. Once you start picking at the licorice allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?" said Ewert
"But you didn't know Mr. Monkford?" asked John
"No he was just a client. Came in here and ordered one of my cars. No idea what happened to him. Poor sod." said Ewert
"Nice holiday, Mr. Ewert?" asked Sherlock
"Eh?" responded Mr. Ewert
"You've been away, haven't you?" asked Sherlock
"Oh, the-the," Ewert motioned towards his face, "No, it's, er, sunbeds, I'm afraid, yeah. Too busy to get away. My wife would love it though, a bit of sun." Sherlock looked over at Anne and gave her a slight wink.
"Do you have any change, Sherlock? I'm just dying for a soda and I saw a vending machine outside." said Anne
"You've already had one today." said Sherlock clearly acting for Ewerts benefit, "I don't have any change anyway. Have you got any change for the cigarette machine?" Sherlock looked at Ewert.
"What?" asked Ewert
"Well, I noticed one on the way in and I haven't got any change." said Sherlock, "I'm gasping."
"No, sorry." said Ewert after looking in his wallet
"Oh well. Thank you for your time Mr. Ewert." said Sherlock, "You've been very helpful. Come on John, Anne."
"I've got change if you still want to, uh..." said John
"Tut tut Sherlock." chimed Anne
"Nicotine patches, remember. I'm doing well." said Sherlock grinning at Anne
"So what was that all about?" asked John
"I needed to look into his wallet." said Sherlock
"Why?" asked John
"Mr. Ewert is a liar. Anne, would you still like that soda?"
"No, I'm just fine." said Anne
Sherlock had solved the case of Janus Cars and Connie Price. Sherlock and John had gone out to investigate a case leaving Anne alone at Baker Street. Anne was lying on the couch in the living room feeling terribly alone and bored. She'd contemplated going down to see Mrs. Hudson but she didn't feel like even getting off the couch.
Anne studied the living room, looking at every dent in the wall and glancing through the titles on the bookshelf. She soon resigned her observations and closed her eyes. She sifted through the new information to see if anything caught her attention. Nothing did, so she lugged herself off the couch and stood up. She sauntered into the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea before going into Sherlocks room. She set the mug on his bedside table and turned on the light. The room was organized meticulously. She soon noticed the patterns in where the objects were.
The bed was in the center of the wall. The chair was at a precise fourty-five degree angle from the corner. The other forty-five degrees was occupied by a lamp centered in the angle. The desk was to the side of the bed on the far side of the room. It was the perfect distance from the lamp and the items on the desk were organized in accordance with the edges of the desk. Anne walked over to the wardrobe and opened it. Inside there were a collection of suits, an extra belstaff coat, countless attire used for disguises and multiple drawers. She opened the first drawer to find three rows of socks meticulously folded. She opened the second drawer to find casual clothing also folded meticulously and for the purpose of using the least space possible. The third drawer Anne opened contained multiple notebooks. Anne was immediately intrigued. She took note of where each was and picked the first one up off the stack.
The notebook was light purple, Sherlock would say lilac, and the first page said The First Casebook of Sherlock Holmes. Anne turned the page and began to read a summary of the first case that Sherlock solved. After the summary there were a number of diagrams and illustrations of the crime scene alongside notes on the sides of the page. The second page contained a few lines of the solution to the crime. Underneath this small explanation was a numbered list of the steps Sherlock took to solve it. Anne sat down on the floor and leaned against the side of the wardrobe unable to tear her eyes away from the notebook. She was reading the last page when she was aware of a figure standing over her.
"Nothing in the bookshelf interest you?" asked Sherlock in a harsh tone
"Sherlock," Anne read the last few lines of the page and carefully put the notebook back in the drawer before standing up to look at Sherlock, "I was bored and..."
"Sorry."
"Why did you go looking through my things?" asked Sherlock
"I didn't really. I didn't muss up anything else, but that notebook was just so interesting." said Anne
Sherlock looked at her for a moment before opening up the first two drawers in the wardrobe.
"Would you like any tea Sherlock?" asked Anne wanting a distraction from the guilt she was feeling
"Yes, please make some for John as well, it was a hard night." said Sherlock quietly.
Anne walked quickly into the kitchen and began to prepare the tea.
"You forgot you mug." said Sherlock setting the full mug of tea that was now cold on the counter before continuing into the living room.
Sherlock opened the wooden journal to where the bookmark was placed. He started to write frantically.
What have I done? Anne is in my care and I've let her down. I'll help her. I'll get her well. I must. I'm the only person she's got. If I'm going to help her, I must set an example. That's the logical thing, the right thing. So, I must stop this. All of this. I'm bored that's all. I will have to find another way to alleviate this problem. -SH
John came to sit in his armchair across from Sherlock.
"We lost our man." said John
"And we'll never catch him again." said Sherlock
"Here's the tea," said Anne handing them their mugs, "Now, who wants to tell me the exciting and dangerous adventures you went on this evening."
"I'll explain," said Sherlock, "John will make it much more colourful than it really was."
"Sherlock, I really don't do that." said John
"I read your blog sometimes John." said Sherlock, "Anyway, we got a case. A murder of a guard from a museum. He was murdered by the Golem. The Golem kills his victims by strangling them. I then contacted my homeless network to track the Golem down and to find him. We found him and followed him to his destination. We then got into a fight with him, John saved my life, thank you," Sherlock nodded at John, "The Golem got away however and so we returned here. I'm going to the museum tomorrow. It must connect to the case somehow."
Anne was speechless. Sherlock had returned to his thinking position but Anne could tell he was worried. She wanted to thank John profusely for saving Sherlocks life but the words wouldn't come.
"We don't mean to scare you Anne, you shouldn't have to worry." said John
"Um, no," said Anne coming back from her thoughts, "I wanted to know. I'm just, um, thank you John."
"You don't have to thank me Anne. Now, how about we relax. Play some games, watch telly." said John
"Sounds good." said Anne turning on the television.
Anne and John played multiple rounds of operation and then tried chess but decided they weren't able to concentrate on the game. Sherlock remained thinking for the best half of the evening before joining them halfheartely in a game of operation. People's lives were on the line and they depended on Sherlock.
