Breakfast was a tense affair the next morning. John's eyes kept leaping guiltily to Sherlock's vibrantly bruised cheek while Aberdeen kept her distance from the detective. Sherlock remained much to himself, puffing away at his pipe, curled up in his chair petulantly ignoring the party as a whole. Aberdeen informed John of Captain Hastings impending visit that afternoon. John listened attentively as Aberdeen pepper the meal with tiny details about Gideon.
"I feel like I'm back at Bart's waiting to take my terms," John laughed nervously. Aberdeen smiled, shaking her head patiently.
"Alexander and Gideon never met. Everything you need to know I've already given you. Alexander is under the impression Gideon died of malaria. As long as we fail to mention his later proclivities, Alexander should remain fooled," Aberdeen sighed. Sherlock shifted spasmodically in his chair, shooting Aberdeen a glower.
"Aren't you the least bit perturbed that you're going to marry a man that stupid?" Sherlock snapped. Aberdeen's tea cup slapped down on the table, nearly shattering under her hand.
"You're on my last nerve already after that stunt last night, Mr. Holmes! I suggest you budge up, shut up, and at least pretend to be a decent human being for once in your ugly life," Aberdeen snarled. John shot the young woman a startled look.
"Aberdeen," John started, his voice stern, "I think you're being a bit harsh."
"Don't try to defend me, John," Sherlock interrupted. He sat up in his chair, his eyes locked with Aberdeen's. "Miss Knight is under the impression that I am acting out because she rejected my advances last night."
"You're what?" John sputtered, dropping his tea cup. Aberdeen's face drained of color but she kept her eyes locked firmly on Sherlock. Aberdeen rose stiffly from her chair, carefully crafting her face into a blank manner.
"The atmosphere in this house today is stifling," Aberdeen murmured politely, circling past Holmes to retrieve a light wrap from beside the door. "I think I'll take a walk in the park to clear my head before Alexander's visit."
"I'll join you," John added, jumping to his feet. Aberdeen glanced at him sidelong. John raised a brow. "That is unless you prefer to go alone?"
"No, Dr. Watson, I'd be honored by your company."
"Absolutely honored, John," Sherlock drawled, his tone honey sweet but filled with bitter sarcasm. John glared at the irksome man and left without saying goodbye.
Aberdeen let out a heavy sigh as soon as they were out of the house. John shot her an apologetic smile, weaving her hand into the crook of his elbow as he led her down the sidewalk. Aberdeen cast him a small smile as they strolled, meandering their way towards Regent Park.
"I feel I should apologize for Sherlock's behavior," John started as they entered the park. Aberdeen laughed bitterly.
"Don't bother Dr. Watson. I'm not unaware of the arrogances of one such as Mr. Holmes. Gideon's penchants began much sooner than his tour in India. Holmes' drug of choice isn't opium, its danger," Aberdeen murmured, shaking her head. John chuckled.
"I can't disagree with you on that. I have to admit, this case is a bit out of our usual sphere," John thought aloud. Aberdeen waited for him to continue, her face shinning with curiosity.
"I suppose the time travel is a bit off kilter," Aberdeen supplied.
"Oh it's not just that," John rattled on, "It's the crime itself. Usually Sherlock and myself come into the investigation after the crime has been committed. This is our first investigation that we have the living soul working with us to…"
"To find her own killer," Aberdeen finished for him. John nodded solemnly. He glanced at Aberdeen's darkened face.
"I'm sorry. I know it must be upsetting to keep hearing us repeat," John murmured. Aberdeen opened her mouth to reply but was quickly cut off by a shrill scream. Aberdeen jerked away from John in surprise and turned towards the source of the screams. Two sets of ginger heads pounded off of the park's greens and flew at Aberdeen.
"Miss Knight! Miss Knight!" the children chanted as they danced around Aberdeen, their hands clasped in a ring around the woman. A laugh bubbled out of Aberdeen's mouth as she turned to John, waving her hand at the two children.
"Dr. Watson, let me introduce you to Lydia and Edwina Moran," Aberdeen said in the way of an introduction. The twins stopped circling the woman and turned to blink up at John with wide blue eyes. He was humored to find that the girl's young, pale face weren't spared an inch by an array of freckles. They grinned up at him, both of them missing a front tooth. He guessed their ages to be about eight.
"Good afternoon ladies," John teased, touching the brim of his hat in greeting. The twins giggled and curtsied playfully for John. Aberdeen had set a gentle hand on each girl's shoulder.
"Where is your nanny, girls? Surely your mother must be a fright that you've taken off?" Aberdeen scolded lightly. The girls didn't look a bit ashamed as look slyly between themselves.
"Our nanny's fallen asleep under a tree," one of the girls started.
"So we thought we'd have ourselves an adventure," the other finished in a lisp. Aberdeen shook her head but a smile was tugging at the seam of her lips.
"Come along girls. We should have you back to your poor nanny before she has a fit," Aberdeen sighed. John chuckled under his breath and followed the unlikely trio over a small rise and into a grove of short shrub trees. They stumbled upon the twin's distraught nanny very quickly. The woman quickly scolded the girls, her Irish accent growing thicker as her embarrassment grew.
John held his tongue until the nanny had shuttled the Moran girls away, then shot Aberdeen a curious glance.
"The girls live on lower end of Baker Street, near Marylebone. Their father opened a small tailoring business and have done very well for the family, though some of our neighbors are less attune to the idea of allowing 'persons of their ilk' to live in their neighborhood," Aberdeen told him, her brows pressed together bitterly. John glanced over his shoulder, his brows shooting up before he looked back to Aberdeen.
"You mean because the family is Irish?" he asked. Aberdeen shot him a sad look, wrapping her arm around the crook of his elbow.
"Have things really changed that much where you come from?" Aberdeen asked politely, her green eyes gazing sharply into him. John felt his cheeks flush as he looked away, his memories drifting to the war.
"I suppose not," John muttered dejectedly.