Chapter Twelve: The Necessity of a Flatmate

Flash forward four years. Kai is still working in theatre. She published her own book of poetry and has been out and about promoting a lot as both author and actress. Sherlock is back consulting for the NSY after a brief hiatus after he overdosed a second time. Lestrade found him then. Sherlock was off cases for a year and a half getting his act together—and terrorizing Mrs. Hudson. He's back in an official capacity under Lestrade's watchful eye.

Sherlock was bored. B-o-r-e-d. Dear god, is this what it's like inside people's heads all the time? How terribly dull it all is. How do they live like this? Funny little brains, the lot of them. He flopped onto the couch and tossed and turned, unable to find comfort. The activity inside his brain wasn't destroying his sanity—ha, sanity—yet, but he could feel the niggling little itch in the back of his mind like an almost healed bug bite. B-o-r-e-d.

His ears pricked up as he heard footsteps approaching his door. He listened for a moment to the weight and stride. Kai, then. What could she possibly want?

Kai came into the room and her long oval face appeared above his. She had her eyebrow quirked up and the expression on her face clearly read; what are you doing? Sherlock crossed his arms over his thin chest before he spoke.

"Bored!" He frowned up at Kai just to let her know that he was not okay with the state of things. She laughed and took a seat in his armchair.

"You are a child," she replied casually. "Have you done your shopping?"

"Dull."

"Have you paid your rent?"

"Dull."

"Sherlock, it's your rent, it needs to be paid. Don't you have a nice liver to dissect or anything?"

"Molly wouldn't let me have any body parts," he pouted. Sometimes Molly Hooper was frustrating. A nice pair of feet wouldn't go amiss at the moment.

"Gee, Sherlock, I can't ever imagine why Molly wouldn't let you nick another set of human remains from her lab."

"I needed them for my experiments…"

"You stole Mr. Henderson! Almost all of him! His wife came to identify the body only his head wasn't there! Not to mention the fact that you took his liver, his kidneys, and his feet.I'm surprised Molly even let you back in after that."

Sherlock snickered. Mr. Henderson's head had been a particularly fine specimen. It had been worth the shouting match. "Please, Kai, Molly is infatuated with me. She'd let me do anything I wanted. All I have to do is smile." He turned to face her directly and shot her the winning Holmes grin. It was somehow both charming and terrifying, like the Cheshire Cat.

Kai shook her head. "You're a manipulative little sod, you know that right?"

Sherlock inspected his fingernails while saying, "It's been useful in my line of work."

"Right." They lapsed into a companionable silence before Kai spoke again. "You should find a flatmate, Sherlock."

Sherlock turned his body on the couch ever so slowly so that he could face her. His face was a blank slate, but even from a distance Kai could tell that his eyes had shifted into that steely grey that indicated a storm was coming. She could practically hear the gears in his head shifting.

"Why would I need a flatmate, Kai?" His dark, honeyed baritone practically rumbled in his chest. "I have you."

Kai smiled. "How sentimental of you, Sherlock. But I don't pay your rent. A flat mate could help you out with that and… I don't know, keep you entertained when I'm away. You know that I'm going to probably be away more and more in the months to come. Maybe you could take them to crime scenes with you." She chuckled at that thought. She had published her own poetry and it had been met with surprising success for a book of poetry. She was also doing some occasional travelling for theatre work and was absent from Baker Street more than she liked to be. The memory of Sherlock's last incident—cocaine this time—was still raw and painful in her mind.

She was unprepared for Sherlock's reaction to her statement. He sat up and shot her a withering glare that he usually only reserved for the Yarders and Mycroft. He crossed his arms even more defiantly over his chest and frowned a little deeper.

"You make it sound like I am a child, Kainat. An ignorant child that needs watching while Mummy is away. I am no child, Kai. I am perfectly acceptable of taking care of myself and I do not need anyone hovering over me like a nanny!" The anger was practically steaming off of him.

Kai's eyes widened and she threw up her hands in defense. "Oh no, Sherlock, that's not how I meant it at all! I know you are not a child…"

"Then why are you suggesting this? If I don't need watching, then why do I need a flat mate?" He stared at her for a second. "Oh…I see. You don't want me going back to the drugs if you're away for long periods of time and I don't have any work to do. You want me to get a live-in babysitter so that I don't go off and try to overdose again, which I never intended to do in the first place!" He was up and stalking around now, thoroughly incensed.

Kai couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice and the small tear from escaping her eye. "Yeah, Sherlock, I am worried. I'm worried about you, okay?! You nearly died on me for the second time two years ago and I can still picture that day as if it had just happened. I'm afraid that if I leave or if I get hurt you won't be able to resist and you'll hurt yourself again! You are so childish and so selfish sometimes. Can you imagine what it would do to me and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade if you up and died on us again?! Can you, Sherlock? And I'm not just talking about the drugs, Sherlock. You deal with criminals and murderers and rapists all the time and you've got no one to watch your back. Who watches the watchmen, Sherlock?"

Sherlock muttered something under his breath and walked into the kitchen. Kai got up and followed him, looking at the tall, thin frame as it hunched over the table, gripping the sides with ferocity. He heard her footsteps approaching and he looked up at her. His eyes were dry but there was still a lot of tempestuous energy in them.

"Why can't it just be you, Kai?" She heard the near pleading undertone in that cool baritone voice that she loved so much. It almost broke her heart.

"Sherlock. You know how much you mean to me. God, Sherlock, I… I love you. You've been my best friend for years and we've gone through so much together. But I have my own life to lead and it's independent from yours. You are such an important part of my life, but we both know we need the space to be our own people. I can't come trailing around crime scenes with you. I don't think Anderson would appreciate me vomiting on his shoes every time." She paused as she saw his facial muscles tweak into an amused half-smile. "And you would be bored as hell in my book signings and my rehearsals. Not to mention the fact that I'm seeing Angelique now. She likes you too, surprisingly, but the three of us all here in one flat would just be too much."

Kai walked closer to Sherlock. She pulled his torso upright—he didn't fight her—and wrapped her arms around his midsection. She was of a height that she could stare him almost directly in the eye, but instead she laid her head on his shoulder as she felt his arms fasten on her back. "You are my a chara, Sherlock. My best friend. You always will be. I only suggested a flat mate so that I wouldn't feel guilty about leaving you alone. I'm sorry."

Sherlock squeezed her tightly and let a moment pass while his mind churned. A flat mate… a new person to adjust to. It didn't sit very well with him, but he couldn't deny the truth in her words. It would be nice to have some help with the rent. And maybe, just maybe, he could con the flat mate into accompanying him on crime scenes. There was just one tiny problem.

"Kai," he murmured. "I'm a sociopath. Who'd want to live with me?"

Kai pulled back a little and looked into his eyes. She flashed him a grin and said, "Believe it or not, I think I might have already found you someone."

Sherlock blinked, disbelieving.