Chapter 14

An apology is a good way to have the last word'

Unknown

"Harriet," the dark haired detective begun. John made this sound so easy. At that moment Sherlock envied John's placid mind that made apologising sound so easy.

"John sent you I supposes?" it was rhetorical question. The irate young woman in front of him had bought forth her teaching persona.

"That's not good?" he seemed genuinely confused.

"No Sherlock, it's not good. Want to know why? It's not good because you should know that when you say something horrible you have to apologise and not because John says so," Harriet folded her arms across her chest. "God it's like talking to my year sevens, except they understand," she turned around and walked back into Mrs Hudson's flat. If he wanted to come in then it was up to him.

"May I come in," he asked tentatively from the door. At least the detective had learnt to ask before entering the flat even if he did still walk in anyway.

"Suppose I should be grateful for small mercies," she muttered to herself.

Sherlock sat down in Mrs Hudson's chintz armchair. His arms were pressed to his side and his slender fingers were clasped together resting on his chin. A slight frown graced his features. This was difficult.

Harriet picked up the crumpled Radiotimes that Mrs Hudson had delivered. She'd already thumbed through it several times. With every turn of the page Harriet looked up at Sherlock. She started out reading the articles again but now she just skimmed the page. None of the words were sticking.

"Please stop," Sherlock had to bite back the rest of his demand. He had enough sense to know that it would only irritate the woman further. Harriet flicked the page with more force. This time she didn't look up. She reached the end of the Radiotimes, closed it with a slap and let it fall onto the table. Sherlock hadn't moved an inch. His eyes pierced through Harriet. She was determined not to let him bother her.

Harriet couldn't keep the farce going any longer, "what are you doing here?"

"You already know what," he replied.

"John sent you but why?" Harriet knew but wanted to hear him say it. He gave her a look that implied she was stupid. She smiled back annoyingly. "Just say it Sherlock, is it really that difficult?" judging by the pained expression on his face it was.

Sherlock deliberated a while longer. What he'd spoken had been the truth and he'd never bothered with trivial things like feelings before. The doorbell rang a short sharp trill. He was saved. With a triumphant smirk he sprung to his feet, "good bye Miss Thornton, I'll let myself in."

"No you bloody well won't," Harriet grumbled to herself as she contemplated changing the locks. Mrs Hudson wouldn't mind. She'd probably thank her.

The unmistakable ring of a client had claimed the detective. He didn't need to dwell on Harriet any longer. Sherlock opened the door in eager anticipation. No one was there. He stuck his head out the door and looked up and down the street. Annoyed he headed straight upstairs. That was why he always made John answer the door.

"All sorted then?" John asked as Sherlock walked through. He took up pacing the worn living room floor. Backwards and forwards. Again and again.

"Why would someone ring a doorbell for no reason?" Sherlock completed another relay of the room.

"That's a no then," John ignored Sherlock's rambling monologue and focussed of the issue of the evidently absent apology.

"Really John. We get a case and you're concerned over whether or not I've apologised. Have some perspective," Sherlock chided.

"If there was no one there then why do we have a case?" John received the 'we both know what's going on here' look. He had no idea what was going on. It was probably just kids.

"Sherlock, go downstairs and apologise," John demanded.

Sherlock sighed and sunk onto the settee his phone in his hand.

Sorry. SH

He put his phone away and looked up at John. "A stranger rings a doorbell and runs off. Why would he do that? He's not paying a call so what is he doing? He's alerting us John."

"Could be a she," John added.

"No. Male. Too much pressure on the bell for it to be a woman. A man who wants help but is too scared to reveal himself. We can expect another ring. Maybe even a message," Sherlock's deduction was short, sharp and hurried.

Harriet blinked in amazement at the text. Apparently five letters in a text counted as an apology. What an arse. Harriet deliberated over a reply. He would have to do better than that. His behaviour over the last twenty four hours had been confusing at best. She had spent the entire evening mulling over the consultant detectives actions. That bloody text grated on her nerves. "An apology indeed," Harriet had mumbled into her toothbrush as she brushed her teeth that night.

John knocked on Mrs Hudson's door and called out not wanting to startle Harriet. She opened the door with a sigh of relief that Sherlock wasn't there.

"Hi. Do you want to maybe go out for a few hours?" He finished his sentence with a brief smile.

"Where?" Harriet looked down the corridor for any signs of interruption from the detective. John was just the person she wanted to speak to. He must know the insufferable arse better than anyone.

"Anywhere. I'm your guide for the day but if you want a relaxed day we'd better leave quickly," he shot a nervous glance up the stairs.

"Two minutes," Harriet left the door open and went to get her things.

"Better make it one!" John called as loudly as he dared.

John had known that spending a day with Sherlock was more than a challenge. He was used to it but Harriet on the other hand had suffered a traumatic experience, one that didn't need adding to. Unfortunately it could not be avoided. To make up for his friends lack of social norms John took pity on the teacher and was her chauffer for the day. Hopefully Sherlock would catch up with Moriarty soon giving the poor woman her freedom one again.

"John do you mind if I ask you something?" Harriet said as they strolled through the picturesque Kew Gardens.

"No, oh," he sighed catching the look on her face, "what has Sherlock done now?"

"Nothing but it is about him," she chewed on her lip as she pondered the best way to proceed.

"Go on then. Let's hear it," John was genuinely intrigued. Nothing concerned him more than his friend's interests. The whole business with Irene Adler had been testament enough. He hadn't expected her to be alive. The moment he laid eyes on her he had been filled with a white hot hatred for the woman. The consulting detective had tortured him for hours with those sad songs on his precious violin following the supposed death of The Woman. If The Woman wasn't going to reveal that she was alive John swore he would go after. Sherlock's behaviour may have appeared as normal as it ever could do to everyone else but to him and Mycroft the change was as clear as day. The whole debacle had only served to make John more protective of his socially challenged friend.

"I may be a million miles away from the truth but I've been thinking about Sherlock," Harriet decided to get straight to the point.

"That's never a good thing," his sarcasm lightened the mood.

"In my time as a teacher I've come across a variety of children with educational needs and I'm sure as a Doctor you have as well. Did or does Sherlock fit into this category?" Harriet was the first to admit her question could have done with more finesse. She waited for John to answer.

The doctor cast a sideways glance at the teacher, "Have I missed something?"

Harriet flushed a deep crimson, "He confuses me. One minute he is an insufferable arse and then well," she left it there.

John didn't need details, "He's just Sherlock," John could fill in the gaps.

"I know he says he's a high functioning psychopath," she tried to sound as professional as she could manage.

"Sociopath. High functioning sociopath," John corrected her.

"Same thing," they weren't but it wasn't important, "but well surely you must have considered something else. He reminds me of a little of an autistic child I worked with in my second year of teaching. The child had Asperger's."

"It's his lack of emotional reciprocity and tendency for monologues," John had considered this many times. It wasn't his area of expertise but in his professional opinion he could see that Sherlock shared similar traits to those with Asperger's but had never been fully convinced.

"It's his fixation with these cases," Harriet added.

"I have considered it but can't be sure. Sherlock isn't one for sharing his feelings and emotions. I think it is far more likely that he is just a very intelligent smart arse," John shared with Harriet.

"Oh. I was just wondering. It didn't matter but well, I thought I would find out seeing as he isn't exactly Mr Approachable. How do you cope with his hot and cold demeanour?" she asked.

John laughed, "I don't think there's an answer to that."

Harriet laughed with him, "No I don't suppose there is." She would have to figure it out for herself.

"Don't worry about it. Sherlock isn't good with change. He'll come round eventually," Harriet nodded.

Harriet enjoyed her day out. She bought lunch for the pair in a coffee shop and made the most of the gloriously overcast British summer's day. Harriet bought her mother a gardening book to take back with her. She loved that sort of thing. Harriet didn't. Every Sunday morning over a cooked breakfast her mother would give a full run down of her garden produces growth. Harriet couldn't care less about organic purple carrots.

Sherlock paced backwards and forwards in the living room. He was agitated. John had stolen Harriet. He had apologised for the apparently derogatory comment and had been making a slight effort at expressing himself better but was still in the proverbial dog house. That woman was under his skin again. She was probably enjoying herself with John. He knew that John was enjoying himself. Doctor John Watson could not say no to a charming lady and Harriet was certainly charming. After the first few girlfriends Sherlock had lost interest in his flat mates love interests. They were predictable and boring.

"John pass me that pen," Sherlock said as soon as John walked through the door of 221B.

John eyed his friend carefully, "there you go," he said as he picked up the pen from the other side of the table that Sherlock was sat at. The lazy git could have done it himself.

"About time," Sherlock thanked. John rolled his eyes. It was not wise to ask how long Sherlock had been sat there waiting for John to retrieve the pen before his return. Sherlock would go for days without speaking or hours without realising that John had gone out. He would get so wrapped up in his palace of thoughts that the rest of the world no longer mattered.

"Have a nice time with Miss Thornton?" Sherlock didn't look up from his scribbling in the newspaper. His question caught John by surprise. It didn't contain the same bored tone that it usually did. There was something else. Something Sherlock was making a terrible job of masking.

Realisation struck John, "Oh my god. Are you jealous?"

"No. I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous?" the detective spun round in his seat. This required his full attention.

John raised his eyebrows, "Harriet?"

"Yes what I about her?" Sherlock's reply was curt.

"You like her," a grin spread across John's face.

"I've always been able to divorce myself from my feelings," it was an automated response John had heard before. Sherlock returned to the newspaper.

"She likes you too," John had to tread carefully. One false move and he would be receiving the silent treatment once again.

Sherlock stiffened. He had figured that out for himself. John decided to leave the conversation there and went for a shower leaving his detective friend to stew.

After her talk with John Harriet reached the conclusion that she would give Sherlock time. It was like dealing with the kids in school and just like with them she needed patience.

Sorry if this chapter is a bit pants. I've been busy on training courses and then add in a migraine that knocked me for six and the end of term sniffles.

I just can't see Sherlock finding apologising easy. Any big mistakes point them out, I'm really tired so I'll have missed some somewhere.

Thanks to kie 1993 and Gwilwillith for reviewing :D