Madelyn stumbled along behind the detective into the snow-filled streets, wondering what exactly was in store for her. He strode determinedly down the sidewalk, bringing Madelyn's arm into his in an escorting manner. Madelyn glanced around cautiously at the people they passed as fears of encountering Boss or one of his underlings due to recent events were threatening to surface. They made their way towards a classier part of town, passing many elegant shops and boutiques in their journey. Madelyn was confused as to why they were even bothering with this part of town, she felt entirely out-of-place and these feelings were confirmed by the condescending frowns of other pedestrians around her. She averted her gaze and stared straight forward, clinging even tighter to Holmes' arm, who glanced at her soothingly after sensing her insecurity.

After a little while, they stopped in front of a small and stylish, but rather curiously-placed boutique. Sherlock smirked down at Madelyn, who had an expression of confusion plastered across her face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at the boutique's name, "Wanderlust Wears," then back at Holmes, and back again at the little shop. After a moment's passing, realization flashed across her face and her eyes widened and she stared disbelievingly at Sherlock.

"Sherlock, no, I do not want you buying me any new clothes. I know what I said before, but I do not like accepting charity!" She released her grip on his arm and backed away a few paces.

He chuckled quietly and shook his head at her attempt to deter him from spending his money on her.

"With no disrespect, my dear, I am afraid that what Boss said last night is quite true. Those clothes are entirely unbecoming of you and I insist that you acquire a new wardrobe at once. A lady such as yourself, despite your streetwise demeanor, deserves proper attire." His blunt remark pertaining to the encounter with the gargantuan man the previous night silenced her protests immediately, but her ambience became viciously dark.

She spoke through gritted teeth, her anger flaring and tears began to pool in her intensely focused eyes.

"So, you mean to suggest that I become dressed more properly as a lady so that more men can gander at me and furthermore expose me to their lecherous advances?" Her hands balled tightly into fists and she was trembling slightly from frustration.

Sherlock was slightly amused at her misplaced anger, and attempted to reach out and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She jerked back quickly out of his reach and said nothing, her lips pressed firmly together in a slim line.

"You know bloody well those aren't my intentions. And, as you may recall, I did say 'with no disrespect.' Besides, those men you so speak of would have to get past my boxing and martial artistry to even try to lay a finger on you. Now if you would stop your tantrum, we are also here on another matter. This shop happens to be owned by a friend of mine." He took a large step forward and laid a firm hand on her shoulder, ceasing her retreat any further than she already had.

Without waiting for a reply, he took hold of her hand and led her assertively into the shop. The little bell above the door chimed sweetly at its open, and the two figures stepped out of the cold air and into the dim, slightly musky shop. The shop organization was verging on cramped and cluttered, but nowhere near the messiness of Sherlock's degree. There were all sorts of foreign and exotic goods; clothing, books, decoration and gadgets alike. Madelyn's temper dissipated from her swiftly as she gazed upon the many curious and enticing objects. She took a particular interest to a thick, silver bracelet that was studded with bright bluish-green and subtly purple hinted crystals that lay in a display case inside the counter.

At the sound of the bell above the door, a woman's voice emanated from the back of the shop, the doorway to which was curtained with a heavy, indigo cloth.

"I'll be right with you. Un moment, s'il vous plait." Her voice was gentle and obviously French.

Sherlock watched as Madelyn admired the bracelet in the display case.

"Those gems are black opals. Quite exquisite, aren't they?" He spoke quietly to her.

Madelyn simply nodded in reply, continuing to examine the gemstones in the bracelet. The woman behind the curtain who spoke earlier entered the room after a short moment of silence as the two figures had stood in the shop. She wore a wide-shouldered floor-length dark red dress with a black pinstriped corset, giving her a wonderfully slender and curvy figure. Her body was decorated with multiple accessories; rings were on almost every finger, bracelets clung to her wrists, and necklaces dangled from her thin neck. Her dark hair had several random curls of dirty blonde colour and was slightly matted. It was decorated with various beads, and hung freely reaching almost to her waist. She had very tan skin, which appeared to be weathered from exposure to the elements for much of her life, similar to Madelyn.

Before Madelyn could observe anything else about the woman, Sherlock had dashed across the room and placed a firm hand on her mouth, using his other arm to restrain her arms close to her sides. The woman was completely overcome with shock as Holmes detained her deftly. Madelyn was appalled at Sherlock's actions and practically shrieked at him.

"Have you gone completely MAD?" She said shrilly as Holmes maintained his grip on the now-struggling woman.

Holmes merely glanced at her coolly and spoke in an even tone.

"Not to worry, darling, this woman is a good friend of mine. I merely wished to refrain her from reacting poorly to my unexpected reappearance." At the recognition of his voice, the woman in his grasp visibly calmed down, her pale green eyes becoming wide with mild fear.

Sherlock released his grip on her after she became still, and she took a step forward before slowly turning around to face the man she thought was dead.

"Y-you…How? I-I…this is…impossible!" Her healthy tan face paled starkly as she gawped wide-eyed at what she hoped was an apparition or mirage.

The woman continued to escalate into a state of near-panic, while Madelyn merely glanced nervously and rather lividly, between the woman and Sherlock. Sherlock, who had stood back to give her a moment to compose herself, could see now that she was not composing herself like he expected. He reluctantly spoke to try and calm the situation down, as the air around the woman buzzed with her outraged emotions.

"Simza, I know this is a lot to grasp, given the circumstances. But, I need you to remain calm for a moment so that I may explain this to the best of my ability." He looked at the woman through hooded eyelids, gesturing with his hands for her to settle down.

She hesitantly did so, easing herself into a comfortable-looking cushioned chair opposite the counter, continuing to stare at the living man in front of her (but should be dead). She was breathing heavily, and for the first time, glanced over to Madelyn, who was still nervously standing with her back pressed against the counter. Simza's gaze returned to Holmes as she spoke.

"Comment diable es-tu toujours vivant?" (How the hell are you still alive?) She burst out at him, her voice shaking slightly as she pushed herself out of the chair quickly towards the man standing in the middle of the shop.

"Vous m'aviezmalade d'inquiétude!Après tout ce temps, après votre enterrement,vous êtes encorevivant?!" (You had me worried sick! After all this time, after your funeral, you are still alive?) She rambled on, beginning to pace the floor and making wild gestures with her hands and arms, pointing accusingly at the detective.

Madelyn furrowed her brows together in confusion at attempting to comprehend the French language flying from the shop-keeper's mouth, which was sadly still foreign to her.

"Si vouscalmercomme je l'avaisdit plus tôt,et permettez-moid'expliquer,tout deviendra clair, Sim." (If you calm down as I said earlier, and let me explain, all will become clear, Sim.) Sherlock shielded himself from the ranting woman by putting his hands up defensively in front of him.

Madelyn was becoming frustrated at being ignored and pushed out of the conversation, and was eager to get some answers herself, like who this woman is and why they were here (besides Sherlock trying to buy her new clothes).

"I hate to barge in on your little re-acquaintance, but might we continue this discussion in English, please?" Madelyn huffed, adding particular emphasis to her words, conveying her frustration.

The woman of Holmes' familiarity whipped her head in Madelyn's direction; her patience and tolerance for this situation was stretched unimaginably thin, verging on the point of snapping.

"You stay out of this, girl." She hissed in a thickly accented voice.

Madelyn scowled defiantly and retorted.

"No, I will not! You may have known Sherlock for longer and through more discord than I could ever imagine, but I know him now. I have every right to be included in your little repartee." Madelyn gathered herself to her fullest height, and steadfastly kept eye-contact with the fiery stare of the equally spirited and aggressive woman.

Sim snorted out of her nose and twitched her lips into a small smile.

"Found yourself a new flamme, have you, Holmes?" She turned her gaze back to the now well-groomed and properly composed detective that she was so used to seeing disheveled and covered with dirt and cuts from the trajectory of haphazardous shrapnel.

Sherlock gave Sim a stern look before pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Really, Simza, must you tease me? You haven't even allowed me to explain this situation." He moved to stand next to Madelyn near the counter, who was still irked about her recent treatment.

"I wish you would." Sim replied simply, sitting back down in the chair across from them.

Madelyn and Sherlock took a seat on the matching couch that sat beside the counter and also across from the chair Sim was sitting on. Sherlock wove his (and their) story of the past few weeks (and days) with his loquacious talents, being exceptionally detailed (minus their largely intimate moments) in his retelling. Madelyn made a few comments on her behalf during the narrations regarding her lifestyle and dodgy past, due to Simza's very peculiar glances in her direction. After all the happenings of their past had been recounted thoroughly, and most of Sim's questions had been answered, the three became quiet and the only sound in the shop was the ticking of a few exotic-looking clocks hanging on the walls.

Madelyn was gazing rather distractedly about the shop, to avoid looking at both Sim and Sherlock. Sherlock was mostly staring off into space with a pensive look about his face, occasionally glancing subtly sideways at Madelyn. Simza was staring at her feet, letting their words settle in. She then lifted her head and watched the body language of the familiar man and his new, peculiar companion, wondering just how much they had decided to omit from their tales.

"So, then. What is it that brings you both to my shop, hmm?" Sim broke the silence and both Madelyn and Sherlock started slightly at her voice.

Madelyn still didn't have the slightest idea as to why they were there besides Sherlock trying to acquire a new wardrobe for her, so she remained silent and glanced expectantly at him. Sherlock sighed and cleared his throat before speaking, both pairs of eyes on him.

"We are here as to the inclination of a new set of finer clothes for this young lady here. Although she is being quite stubborn and is partial to the idea of, well, not getting any." Holmes smirked teasingly at Madelyn, who crossed her arms and legs grumpily, refusing to budge when both Sim and Sherlock stood to find suitable clothing for her.

Simza smirked at Madelyn, amused at her child-like behavior and refusal to be dressed properly. She also pondered over what Sherlock could possibly see in this urchin-girl who most likely knew nothing about the societal standards of higher classes. Ever since her brother was murdered at the peace summit for being "evidence" in the case against Moriarty (who left no loose ends), Sim felt as if Sherlock had made an exceptional replacement—no, not a replacement. No one could ever take René's place. Sim felt that on that day, she had lost one brother and gained another, who not long after, had tumbled over the Raichenbach Falls.

That day had torn her apart emotionally. And now that she had her new "brother" back, she could see a change in him as bright as this clear, snowy day. He was happier somehow, and less uncouth. This had no effect on his cleverness and aptitude for trouble, though, but he still wasn't the Sherlock she'd known. And this young woman had something to do with it. Sim was suspicious, and she decided to slyly question the girl personally, when she had the chance.

A chance soon became obvious when they had selected several dresses for Madelyn to try on. Sim would assist her with this in the back changing room while Sherlock waited out in the main shop. Madelyn was still stubbornly seated on the couch when they had finished selecting clothes. They had to pry her from the couch forcibly, and as Sim dragged her back behind the indigo curtain, Madelyn stared perturbed back at the tall and enigmatic detective. Sherlock simply smiled pleasantly back. The curtain was pulled shut with a muffled swish, and the two women disappeared from his sight.


Hooray, it's Sim! I decided to bring her into the story somehow, even though it's probably too short of time for her to suddenly own a boutique in London. But whatever, this is fiction! Anything can happen~ I apologize if the French lines in this chapter aren't really translated properly (to those who speak French), I just used GoogleTranslate hahaha. Thanks for being so patient, readers! I've been busy with school, but I do plan to update this story still. Reviews are appreciated!