I am very sorry I took long to post this chapter. I had a little bit of writer's block lol. But here is Chapter 11, and I hope you all enjoy it. On this chapter I wanted to have Sherlock and Athena to at least have a private moment. I hope you all enjoy it!
Athena was relieved when she noticed Sherlock mischievous smile. He chuckled under his breath and jumped in the air, fists raised in triumph, his whole demeanor exuding excitement. "Yes! It is Christmas!"
"Wait, I don't understand. What's going on?" John asked, confused.
"It's just brilliant!" Sherlock placed his hands on Athena's waist and raised her up in the air, whirling around the flat with excitement as they both shared a laugh.
John was baffled at the happenstance before him. He never thought he would see the day when Sherlock Holmes would ignore him for a woman, especially when he was on a case! Irene Adler aside. Athena was hardly the same sort of puzzle as the Dominatrix had been. 'Did he just ignore my question about the case, to dance with his female counterpart?He must really like this girl.' He lowered his head to hide the mirth, shaking ever so slight with controlled laughter. 'I should take a picture.' He chuckled under his breath at the thought. On the other hand, it was a sweet moment to present for. Sherlock needed someone in his life, other than himself; however, right now the case needed to take precedence.
"I don't mean to interrupt, but um, can someone explain to me what is going on?" John asked as he stood up. Sherlock, his hands still on Athena's waist, began to flush with embarrassment. He made a hasty, but hesitant retreat from Athena.
"Pardon me," Sherlock apologized to Athena, and turned toward John. He snatched the letter from the coffee table and explained the situation to John. "Remember John, Ms. Swan mentioned to Athena that her fiancée ran into someone he knew, and it made him nervous."
"Yeah, I remember. What of it?"
"It happened when he attended his doctor's appointment, the day before he died. What hospital did Mr. Freeman attend?"
"Bart's Hospital."
"Exactly, and now we find this letter that was written by an ex-girlfriend, revealing that she got a job recently as an assistant nurse for the exact same hospital the victim attended."
"So he ran into his ex-girlfriend. Oh my God, the ex-girlfriend is the murderer," John smiled in triumph, and then frowned in confusion. "Wait, why would the ex-girlfriend kill him? They had been broken up for over a year."
"She's the obsessed type of girlfriend," Athena explained, "You know those girls who never leave your side for anything?"
"Apparently, she still thought that he loved her," John nodded.
"What are we waiting for?" Sherlock exclaimed. "Let's go." He walked towards the door, but Athena stood in front of him to stop him.
"Sherlock, we cannot go to Bart's."
"Why not? We have proof that it was her, and we know where she works."
"We only have proof that she may have done it. All we have is the interview with Ms. Swan and the letter."
"Isn't that proof enough? It is for me. Even John agrees with us."
"Yes Sherlock, it might be obvious for us, but not for everyone else! We only have a name to go by, we don't have a clue as to her appearance, and what if she changed her name? Also…"
"Even if she changed her name, we do have the pictures," Sherlock interrupted with irritation. "True, her hair covers half of her face, but even close friends or coworkers might recognize the physique. Heck, even I can recognize her by just one look!"
"Either way Sherlock, we haven't had any reports from Lestrade. If Bart's Hospital did not make a report of stolen succinylcholine, she is off the suspect list and we are left with nothing. We would be back at square one!"
John stared at them, uncertain of what to make of the situation. 'My God, they argue like a married couple,' His inner mind stated.
They stood still with their eyes piercing one another. Sherlock slowly looked away as he pursed his lips. He was annoyed, but he knew she was right. Even if Sherlock told Lestrade that he had solved the case, Lestrade would still argue with him that he had very little evidence; and even though he can identify the culprit with little detail, the other officers will doubt him.
"I don't doubt your right. Your deductions are sound, Sherlock," Athena explained, her voice gentle, yet stern. "But I am taking your advice, we need to think this through."
Sherlock huffed, flinging himself onto the couch in a halfhearted strop. Knowing one was right, and liking it were two different matters. They solved the crime, why did he have to prove it too? Weren't the police good for anything?
John aimed to protest at Sherlock's sudden, though not unusual rudeness, especially considering he had previously been dancing in merriment with his neighbor, but Sherlock spoke up before he could admonish him. "Of course. Of course, you're right. We'll continue to wait for Lestrade to provide us with the reports, before we barge into St. Bart's to convict." That was Sherlock's favorite part of solving the mysteries, chasing and cornering the criminals, he hated having to wait for it.
The detective drew himself up and gathered his violin. He walked to the window and gazed at the life outside. "Isn't it hateful?" he asked vaguely, before lifting his instrument and tuning out his two companions.
Athena browsed through the books that lay scattered about, choosing a classical volume of 'Treasure Island' before getting comfortable in Sherlock's chair while they waited. John took Sherlock's subtle hint of "leave me alone, I'm thinking" and grabbed his laptop, settling down in his own chair. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to wait long.
At the shifting and creaking of furniture, Sherlock twisted a hint to gaze over his shoulder. He raised a brow at the uninvited intrusion of his personal space, but said nothing. Allowing it to sink into his mind, it turned out he really didn't mind the evasion so much at all. A smile appeared in the curve of his lips, as he watched Athena's small frame fitting perfectly in his chair.
A strange sensation surged through his mind. It is unusual for anyone, other than John, Mary, Lestrade, and Molly, to be comfortable in his presence, especially females. Even his closest friends would not dare invade his personal space, for he would not be in a pleasant mood. Nevertheless, here is a strange and wonderful creature, whom he met recently, wondering around his books and sitting in his chair, confident and at ease. Although confused, he was content.
A low-high pitched hum filled Sherlock's ears. It was Athena, humming the recognizable tune of 'Fifteen Men and a Bottle of Rum', a pirate song that Billy Bones sang in the second chapter of 'Treasure Island', as she read the book. Subconsciously, Sherlock began to strum the melody in time with her hum. He was so in tune with his song that he did not notice when his muse paused to stare. Upon finishing the melody off, he found two sets of eyes on him; the silence encompassing them, awkward.
"What?" Sherlock asked, baffled.
"Nothing, Captain Holmes," Athena chuckled. John laughed under his breath as he returned his gaze to his laptop. Sherlock rolled his eyes in annoyance, then turned away to hide a smile.
The buzzing noise of Sherlock's phone returned. Sherlock gently placed his violin in its case, and grabbed his mobile from the coffee table. A cheeky smile covered from Sherlock's face as he read a message sent from Lestrade.
"Yes! Finally!" He stared back at his companions, as they stood up from their chairs. "We got our confirmation after all." He handed Athena his mobile for her to read the message.
We got the reports. Only one hospital had missing succinylcholine. Meet us at Bart's Hospital. On our way right now. –GL
Sherlock, Athena and John stepped out of 221b and onto the sidewalk. John went to the edge of the pavement to hail a cab. Sherlock pondered over the day's events as they quietly awaited the cab. He wasn't positive, but if his companion's reactions were nothing to go on, he may have been 'a bit not good' today. It hadn't been his intent, and normally he wouldn't care, but he felt compelled to try and fix it regardless.
A cab stopped in front of them, and John slid in first. Sherlock stopped between the entry and Athena, giving John a cheeky grin. "Would you mind going on ahead, John? We'll take the next one."
"What?! Why?" John asked, exasperated.
"I don't like being crowded, you know that."
"Sher…then why doesn't Athena come with me, that way you can have a cab all to yourself?"
Sherlock paused, as if handed a new puzzle, unsure as to an excuse that would not implement his desire to be alone with Athena. "I…Well," the detective stammered. "Mary may smell a different perfume and question you as to your whereabouts and activities. The stress would not be good for the baby, you know," Sherlock explained as if clarifying details about their latest murder.
John, ever longsuffering, understood after a moment, and agreed to take the first cab. He grinned at his friend's discomfort and uncertainty, and eyed the female of topic with amusement. "You know, you're right, I wouldn't want to distress the baby or have Mary breathing down my neck," John smirked, playing along.
"Yes, of course," Sherlock nodded.
"Well, I guess I'll meet you at Bart's then," John replied. He then shut the door and told the cabbie his destination. Sherlock stood at the edge of the pavement and hollered another cab. Athena stood behind the detective, confused at John's reason to go by himself. A cab arrived, and Sherlock opened the door and allowed Athena to enter the cab first.
"Thank you," Athena smiled as she slid passed him.
"You're welcome," Sherlock replied as he closed the door behind him. "Bart's Hospital, please."
The detective sat in silence with his companion, staring out the window, not really watching the buildings pass by. He had meant for them to talk, for him to fix whatever he did wrong, but how does one start such a conversation? Perhaps he had miscalculated again. Perhaps Athena would have preferred to ride with John. His agitation grew the longer he stewed, reaching a peak when he heard an uncharacteristic giggle to his right.
"You think too much," Athena chuckled. "You'll die of a brain aneurism if you're not careful. Are you regretting allowing me to accompany you?"
"No," Sherlock said, curtly. Athena pursed her lips, gave a nod and returned her gaze to the window. Sherlock closed his eyes, sighing deeply, regretting his reaction. "Of course, I don't. I am not bothered by your company," His deep baritone, gentle and genuine.
Athena turned to eye him, confused, yet gratified to know she was not a bother. She enjoyed working with Sherlock and she did not want to ruin it. "Well, thank you. I find your company a delight also."
Sherlock smiled at that statement. He stared at Athena eyes, his agitation still brewing, as he thought of what to talk about. He then began to observe her figure and noticed her silver necklace hanging from her neck.
"You're still wearing the necklace," he stated as he pointed to it.
"Well yes, yes I am," Athena responded as she played with it.
"I thought you only wear it on special occasions."
"This is a special occasion," she smiled.
"It is?"
"Yes, I am solving a very interesting case with the world's only consulting detective."
"Oh," it was all Sherlock could say. He was intrigued to know that she enjoyed his company and that she considered it a special occasion. Then he began to wonder what it was that he was trying to fix. She giggled at his reaction.
"Plus, I also use it on any occasion when I want to be confident of my abilities," Athena confessed.
"Why would you not be confident of your abilities? You are very clever and brilliant at what you do."
"Sometimes I can make a mistake or two when I don't realize it. There is always something I miss," Athena frowned. Now Sherlock remembered what he wanted to fix. He insulted her intelligence.
"Well, just because you miss something, it does not mean that you are unintelligent. I mean of course, you may miss some important details, but you still work hard for what you are looking for. For example, today the interview with Mrs. Swan, you did brilliantly. If it wasn't for you, we would have disregarded the ex-girlfriend's letter and may not even added her in the suspect list. We would have been lost," Sherlock was stunned when he realized he was confessing how he admired Athena's efforts. "True, it would have been better if you spoke with the victim's parents, however, with the information you managed to find, it helped us get this far. Now, we are on our way to find our criminal."
Athena was speechless, yet, she was pleased to know that Sherlock commended her efforts in the case.
"Also…I," Sherlock stared at his hands, as if he was trying to find strength to say something. "I will let you in on a little secret. I sometimes can miss things as well." With that, Sherlock turned his gaze to look out the window. "I guess I'm not as great as you think I am."
Athena understood what he was trying to do. He wanted to apologize for earlier. She gently smiled and softly patted his shoulder. "Don't worry; it will be our little secret. Either way, I still think you are magnificent."
Sherlock swiftly turned to Athena's direction. She winked at him, a mischievous smile fixed on her face. He grinned impishly in return.
"Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise," he paused trying to find the right words to say, "Not even me."
"Thank you, Sherlock."
"You're welcome…Athena."
They stayed silent for a while, and it seemed eternal. To break the discomfort between them, Athena returned her gaze to the window. Sherlock pursed his lips. He wanted to continue his conversations with her. He was stunned to know that he enjoyed having a normal conversation with a woman. Of course, he's had good conversations with Mary and Molly, but he wouldn't recall that he took pleasure in them.
He then was curious to know Athena's opinion about relationships or love. Not that he wanted to have a relationship with her; he was of course, married to his work. However, he at least wanted to know, if he would ever have a chance with her in the future, it would be a chance he would be willing to take, but what kind of questions should he ask without being suspicious?
"Rubbish isn't it?" Sherlock asked, arrogant as ever.
"What do you mean?" Athena questioned, confused.
"The case, it is filled with a lot of sentimental rubbish. Clever murder, of course, but I can't stand all this relationship matter. For example, why would the victim hide the story of his former flame? That's ridiculous, if he really loved her, why wasn't he just honest with her from the beginning?" Sherlock lowered his gaze, nervous about Athena's response.
"Well, I agree, he should have been honest from the beginning. Nothing good will ever, or ever, has come from lying. It ended up with Mr. Freeman as a cadaver," Athena turned her nose up.
Sherlock expected this answer. After all, she was his counterpart. How could he expect to have a chance with a beautiful, clever woman that was his equal? He only responded with a nod.
"However," she said in a lower voice, "I can understand the reason behind it. I mean, he knew that his ex-girlfriend was not well. She was very possessive, very clingy, and even jealous. That is not very healthy, and it can lead a person to become violent. In other words, maybe he was trying to protect his fiancée from the dangers his ex could have caused Ms. Swan."
"How so?" Sherlock asked, curious.
"Well, can you imagine how Mr. Freeman would have felt if it was his fiancée that was killed instead of him? In reality, even it was wrong of him to lie, he was really protecting her, and that is real love. I find it agreeable."
"So if you were Ms. Swan, would you be angry at him or would you forgive him?"
"Both. I would not be happy of the fact that he lied, but I would be grateful that he did it to protect me, and I'd forgive him for it."
"So do you see yourself settling down, enjoying a blissful partnership?" Sherlock asked sarcastically, trying to hide his interest.
"No, not really," Athena chuckled, "I don't really see myself in that picture." Sherlock only hummed in response, a hint of disappointment in his expression. Athena noticed it. "However, it does not mean that I will refuse it, if I ever am offered the chance to."
Sherlock perked up, barely raising his eye to peek out from under his curly fringe. A touch of hope renewed within the depths of his heart, as well as feelings that he could not identify or explain. "Oh," he said, as the cabbie pulled up to the front of the hospital.
Sherlock and Athena met John at the entrance of Bart's Hospital. Lestrade stood beside the doctor and a female companion. It was Sergeant Donovan. Sherlock was not looking forward to working with her.
"Ms. Tavington, how nice to bless us with your presence," Greg saluted Athena, nodding his head politely.
"It is nice to see you again, Inspector," Athena smiled.
"This is Sgt. Donovan. Donovan, this is Athena Tavington," Greg introduced the ladies with a smile.
"Nice to meet you," Athena saluted courteously.
"Likewise, Ms. Tavington," Donovan replied, her unsympathetic gaze followed Sherlock's direction. "Freak."
"Donovan," Sherlock smiled arrogantly.
Athena eyed them both, noticing uneasiness between them. 'I see that they don't like each other.' She concluded in her mind. However, she did not like the way Donovan called Sherlock a 'freak'. He was far from being one. Athena then began to wonder why she was so defensive on Sherlock. It was not as if Donovan was being hostile towards her. Nonetheless, it didn't matter to Athena what was their history, she felt insulted and that it was her duty to defend him.
"Well now, let us go inside, shall we?" Lestrade said as he walked towards the hospital doors.
"Yes, we haven't got a minute to lose," Sherlock said, excited to chase down a criminal. "Come Athena, the game is on!" He swiftly entered the doors of Bart's Hospital, smiling proudly, as Athena and John followed behind.
If you have any ideas on how Athena should insult Sgt. Donovan, feel free to share your ideas :) I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
