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The stairs lifted as I reached the top of the fire escape, leaving John stranded down below. He would never be tall enough to reach it. I stood beside a smiling Sherlock.
"Are you two gonna help me up?" I heard John holler.
I leaned over the railing to look at him.
"Sorry love, you'll have to meet us at the front. After all, we need a look out! It's a very important job." I joked, with a wave goodbye.
Sherlock was already headed inside, so I started to follow. He let out a small gasp, causing me to jump in fear.
"You ok Sher?" I speedily asked.
His face was inches from mine as he stuck his head outside. I took in a deep breath, his close proximity clouding my mind. His eyes wandered across my face before locking with mine.
"Yeah, just watch out for the vase," he muttered, slowly moving his head back inside.
My breath hitched for a moment before I regained control. What was this man doing to me? I climbed inside avoiding the vase. Sherlock was leaning down, with his hand on the rug.
"Someone else has been here," he whispered to me.
"Your whispering is freaking me out, Sher," I whispered back to him.
The eerie apartment putting my nerves on high alert. Straightening up, he placed his hand on my shoulder helping to calm me.
"Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase just as you did," I told him, moving towards the kitchen.
It would be the quickest way to see how long the owner has been gone. Sherlock moved to the washing machine as I checked the fridge. I took out the milk and checked the date, shaking my head. I noticed Sherlock remove some clothes from the washer, he sniffed the handful of clothes grimacing. I closed the fridge and walked around the living room. The doorbell started ringing, alerting us to Johns attempt at gaining our attention.
"D'you think you could let me in this time?" John called from the front door.
I was going to allow him inside, but Sherlock stopped me.
"The washing is starting to smell," he told me.
I stepped closer to him, something felt wrong to me.
"The milks gone off too," I added.
"Were not the first." He hollered, alerting John.
I heard the letterbox opening as John's voice filled the air.
"What?" Sherlock stepped closer.
"Somebody has been here before us!" he yelled.
I took out the pocket magnifier from Sherlock's coat, invading his personal space without caring. I moved over to where a foot had rucked up the rug, leaving an impression of the intruder's shoe.
"Size eight feet," I mumbled to Sherlock, handing him his magnifier.
To my amusement, he took a quick look, before nodding his head in agreement.
"Can you not keep doing this please?!" I heard John once again yell.
My mind was too involved in our mystery intruder to be bothered with letting him inside. I pushed my way through the beaded curtain between the kitchen and living room, I bent down to examine the rug.
"Small but athletic." I heard Sherlock mumble to himself.
I stood back up, my mind going a million miles a minute. I noticed Sherlock looking at a framed photograph, I curiously joined him. It was a picture of a small girl and boy. A handprint was clearly visible over the girl. Sherlock held his magnifier over the fingerprints. I frowned at the image. Obviously, our intruder has some sort of personal relationship with the girl in the picture. I moved my gloved hand over the handprint to gauge the size.
"Small strong hands," I said.
He closed his magnifier and put the photo back in its place.
"Our acrobat," he added.
I started to frown, looking around the room. This was not going to be good. I took my jacket and bag off slowly, placing them on the chair next to me. I pulled a pair of pink brass knuckles(what I like pink) from my pocket, placing them on. I was always taught to carry something to protect myself, and after the last few years, I go nowhere without them. I chose to no longer be the victim I used to be. I had been secretly taking self-defense classes for ages now, in preparation for my escape. I placed my hair in a tight ponytail.
"But, why didn't he close the window when he left...?" Sherlock asked himself.
I rolled my eyes at him, as he looked at me in surprise. He hadn't noticed the small changes I made. His face scrunched up in annoyance at himself.
"Oh, stupid...stupid. Obvious. He's still here." He whispered.
I stood in place, preparing myself as Sherlock looked around the room. He looked at me and tilted his head towards the free-standing, folding screen, shielding the bed. I nodded telling him I was ready as he started carefully making his way towards it. He gripped the edge of the screen and quickly yanked it away. Two seemingly startled stuffed toys looked at us innocently.
Before I had the chance to laugh someone wrapped a large white scarf against Sherlock's neck. Without a second thought, I started running to help. I waited till Sherlock spun around giving me a nice view of his assailant, before I jumped onto the ottoman in front of them, using it to propel myself towards Sherlock's attacker. I slammed my fist into his head. He pulled away from Sherlock, but not enough to release him. I then lifted my knee into his stomach allowing Sherlock to breathe. I looked at a red-faced Sherlock in fear, not for myself, but for him.
The doorbell started buzzing loudly and I inwardly cursed at John. There was no way I'd let anything happen to him. The man headed towards me with his fists raised. I readied myself but had no chance to act as Sherlock grabbed him from behind. They both started stumbling around and somehow the scarf ended up around Sherlock's neck again. I tried to help, but the man slammed his elbow into my face and I fell, the world around me tilting slightly.
I looked up to see the man shove something into a nearly unconscious Sherlocks pocket, before jumping out the window. I lifted myself onto my knees and crawled over to Sherlock. Before I could even touch him he pulled himself up and quickly removed his own scarf, gasping for air. I sat back on my legs taking deep breaths. I had never been so afraid to lose someone before.
"You ok?" he croaked, pulling me towards him.
He looked me over, assessing the small cut just below my hairline.
"Yeah, you ok Sher?" I asked looking at his neck.
There would definitely be a small amount of bruising. He nodded still unable to speak very well. I grabbed the lapel of his coat and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. When had he become so important to me? I leaned my nose into his neck, feeling his own in my hair. I memorized the smell of tobacco and soap. It was an oddly appealing combination. John's voice brought me back to the present and made me realize how long I had been gripping onto the man in front of me. I pulled back and stood up grabbing my coat and placing it back on. I slipped my brass knuckles back into my pocket, then helped him fix his coat. There was no way I wanted John knowing what happened to us, he would flip.
Neither of us mentioned the lingering hug, and I was grateful. I didn't even understand what I was feeling and talking about it was the last thing I wanted to do.
"Elisabeth," Sherlock mumbled.
I looked at the small origami lotus sitting in his palm. Well damn. I motioned for him to follow and headed outside. I stood close by Sherlock as he was still stumbling a bit. John stood in front of us an exasperated look on his face.
"Milks gone off." I quickly spat.
I was feeling guilty, id never been good at hiding things from him. I'm still surprised my relationship issues had been kept secret for so long.
"Washings starting to smell too. Someone left here in a hurry three days ago." Sherlock croaked, rubbing his neck.
"Somebody?" John asked.
Sherlock nodded, his voice still rough.
"Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her." Sherlock answered him.
I felt my foot brush against something on the ground, I bent over to grab a small white envelope. As I stood, I felt myself sway. I was still a bit dizzy from that idiot slamming his elbow into my head. I covertly hid it from John, but of course, Sherlock had noticed. I avoided his gaze and handed him the envelope.
"But how exactly?" John asked.
I leaned into Sherlock to read the note. Well looks like we are visiting the museum today.
"Maybe we could start with this," Sherlock said, his voice still cracking.
He grabbed my arm and headed off down the street. I looked over my shoulder to see John reading the note for Soo Lin. Sherlock pulled me to the side before John noticed.
"Look at me," he said.
I scrunched up my face but didn't argue. He looked into my eyes with a small flashlight he had taken from his pocket.
"You might have a small concussion. You need to go home, but don't go to sleep until I get back," he demanded.
He took a step away from me as John caught up with us. I gave Sherlock a pouty gaze, trying to get out of having to go home. However it did not work, his look was firm.
"You've gone all croaky. Are you getting a cold? John obliviously asked.
Sherlock's eyes never left my face as he told John he was fine. I knew he was waiting for me to reveal I wasn't joining them at the museum. I sighed quietly but knew I had no other choice Sherlock was adamant.
"I think I'm gonna head home. I'm starving and it's been a long day." I grumpily said.
John looked at me immediately, I looked anywhere but at him, worried he'd notice my mood or small injury from the earlier fight. Instead, he hailed a taxi for me.
"Ok Liz. Get some rest. This is an entirely too dangerous situation for you anyways. You're making me nervous." he truthfully told me, but made it seem like a joke.
Sherlock pulled the door to the taxi open waiting for me to hop in. I rolled my eyes and did as I was supposed to. Sherlock told the driver the address and then looked me in the eyes.
"No sleep." he reminded me.
I smiled shyly and quickly gave him a peck on the cheek. He moved a strand of my hair away and checked my head. I pulled away and told him I was fine before I pushed him back out the window. I waved at John who was playing on his mobile as we pulled away. I looked back to see Sherlock still staring at my taxi. He was a seriously confusing man. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. My head really did hurt, as much as I hated to admit it, I was glad to be going home. My eyes popped open as I realized I had furniture being delivered today. I had gotten the go-ahead earlier from the mold inspector. Everything had come back ok, so I was free to move in. I looked in my bag and remembered John still had my keys. Damn. Id have to have Mrs. Hudson let me in. The taxi came to a stop and I quickly paid the fare. I stepped outside and made my way to the door. I stepped inside and headed for Mrs. Hudson's apartment.
I knocked loudly and only seconds later the kind faced woman answered the door.
"Oh hello dear. I was just about to call you. The store only just finished delivering your furniture." she cheerfully told me.
A smile graced my lips, I was so excited to have my own place again.
"Great. Can you let me in, John has my keys." I told her.
She grabbed the spare set and we went to my new apartment. I was literally hopping from one foot to the other as she opened the door. My brows furrowed when I noticed the freshly painted walls. Mrs. Hudson smiled coyly at my expression.
"Your Mr. Watson hired workers to come over and paint the walls. I was nervous about the color he chose, but he assured me you'd love it," she said.
I stepped inside and looked at the beautiful grey color now covering my walls. He knew it was my favorite. I wiped tears from my face and grabbed Mrs. Hudson, hugging her gently.
"I do love it. This looks like an entirely different apartment." I mused.
I started removing the white sheets covering my new furniture. I smiled at Mrs. Hudson when I noticed her helping me. Two hours and some take away later, we were finally done rearranging everything. I had not allowed her to help move anything, but she was still very helpful. She hung some wall ornaments and was pretty amazing at helping me to know exactly where the furniture would look best. I didn't have to move a thing after I had placed it where she told me to.
I threw myself onto my new black leather couch, having just finished my bedroom. The only thing I had left to do was bring everything I had upstairs. Mrs. Hudson had just left to rest up in her own apartment. I was so grateful I had someone like her around. She reminded me so much of my own mother. Sometimes it was like I still had her. I stood up and headed upstairs to grab my bags. I folded the blankets I had been using and left them on the couch. I lugged my bags back downstairs. I was beginning to worry about the boys, but staying busy helped keep my mind off it. I locked my door behind me and started unloading all my books onto the shelf above my fireplace.
I didn't have many left, he wouldn't allow me to buy any. He always called them a distraction from what's important...him. After I hung all the clothes that needed it and folded and put away the rest, I was back on the couch. I laid back on a pillow and rested my eyes.
Two Hours Later
I shot up as loud banging could be heard from upstairs. Someone was yelling and stomping around. Fearfully I grabbed the bat that stood next to my door and leaned up against it, listening intently.
"Where is she, John? You have her keys!" Sherlock yelled.
I heard another loud bang as Johns' voice took on a louder octave.
"I don't know Sherlock all her stuff is gone! Why would she take off?!"
I unlocked my door and left the bat behind.
Did they really think I took off? I met Mrs. Hudson at the bottom of the stairs and frowned at her.
"They are going positively insane. You should make yourself known dear." She chuckled.
I headed upstairs quietly, still amazed by their reaction.
"What did you do Sherlock? She would never leave without telling me!" John hatefully accused.
I could hear Sherlock pacing quickly. "Nothing John. We have to find her! Could it be her ex?" Sherlock said with fear.
I couldn't listen anymore. I knocked on the door and moved my hand away, feeling silly. Why did I knock? I heard the men silence themselves. I slowly opened the door and pushed myself inside. John was the first to greet me, pulling me into a grateful hug.
"Liz! Where have you been!" he said in shock.
I pulled away and looked into Sherlocks still fearful eyes.
"I've been in my apartment. You lot are insane, I had Mrs. Hudson let me in. Or did you forget I had everything delivered today?" I laughed in amazement.
Both men gave me bashful looks.
"Thank you for the walls, John. I love it. You should come look. Everything is all done." I told them both.
I noticed their exhaustion and waved away my last comment.
"Nevermind you need to rest. Tell me everything you found out in the morning." I said, giving John one last hug.
I headed back downstairs and to my own apartment. Still shaking my head at them. I closed my door behind me and jumped into the shower. I let the hot water run over, washing away the long and somewhat terrible day. I didn't know what the boys had learned at the museum, but whatever it was wasn't good. I could tell by the expressions on their faces. I grabbed my honey shampoo and scrubbed my hair clean, enjoying the heavenly scent.
After my shower, I threw on my favorite silk nightgown, blew my hair dry, and slipped into bed. I was only lying there for five minutes at best when I heard a knock on my door. I threw back my covers with a huff and stood up, moving to the living room. I brushed my fingers through my hair and opened the door. I leaned against the frame and looked into the blue/green eyes of Sherlock Holmes.
"What can I do for you, Holmes?" I asked in worry.
His face still held a hidden pain, and I was beginning to worry about him. He ruffled his hair and frowned down at me.
"Soo Lin is dead," he said, fretful.
I stepped aside and gently took his hand leading him to the couch. I waited for him to sit before I took the seat beside him.
"Ok, tell me what happened," I asked, pushing my exhaustion away.
He needed me, I wasn't sure why but I knew he did. I sat back my unease growing heavier as his story went on. Once he was finished I took a deep breath.
"Ok, so we are dealing with an ancient Chinese syndicate. The Black Lotus..." I muttered.
He nodded, looking at me like I was about to bolt.
"Ok, well then tomorrow I'll help you at the morgue. I'm assuming you need proof. Van Coon and Lukis should have the same tattoo Soo Lin did, correct?" I asked, confidently.
His eyes widened for a moment before his face went back to its usual blank expression. He thought he was impossible to read, which amused me. I could read him like a book, yes he was confusing, but that didn't mean I didn't know him well. Even if we are still new to one another.
"You still want to help?" he asked me in confusion.
I leaned my head against his shoulder.
"Of course Sherlock. I'm not going anywhere, but when I start work I won't be able to help as much. Just so you remember." I told him with a grin.
He put his nose in my hair before I felt him slowly inhale. He was smelling my hair! I chose to allow him to think I hadn't noticed. I lifted my head off his shoulder and froze as our faces were once again, only inches apart. I could smell his breath on my face, wintergreen...It was nice. My eyes moved to his lips against my will. I was leaning closer without even noticing. It wasn't until I could feel his nose on mine that I realized. His eyes were raking my face, his breathing heavy and labored. I knew how inexperienced he was, which made the moment between us even more special. Could he have feelings for me? Could I be developing feelings for him? Out of all the woman in the world...me? His nose slid down my cheek moving towards my lips. I gripped his shirt tightly, wrapping my other arm around his neck. Just when he was about to touch my lips with his own a loud knock on the door snapped us back into reality. The strange energy that had filled the air was quickly dissipating.
He pulled away as fast as he could. He stood moving away from me. I tried to make eye contact, but he wouldn't look at me. I cleared my throat and walked to the door. Before I opened it I looked at Sherlock again. I could sense how badly he wanted to leave, but I hesitated. I didn't want things to be weird between us. Especially when I didn't even understand what had just happened. Why make a big deal out of it.
"Sher, what happened...it's not a big deal. It was probably stress. Let's not complicate things right now." I said.
He finally looked at me and I tried to make my face casual. I could visibly see the tension and fear lift from his shoulders. Before he could speak I opened the door.
"Johnny, it seems like this is the place for late night chatting." I joked pushing the door further open so he could see Sherlock.
Johns's face fell into amusement.
"Just who I was looking for. I thought we agreed to leave her alone for the night," he said with a raised brow.
Sherlock stepped past me in a rush of wintergreen, making my traitorous heart speed up.
"Yes, well I thought she needed to know." he quickly said.
John pulled him towards the stairs.
"Goodnight Lizzie," he said looking straight at Sherlock.
I waved them goodbye before shutting and locking my door. I leaned against it breathing heavily.
Wow. What. A. Night.