Chapter 14
A few months went by without any further incident. On Christmas Eve, John invited Lestrade, Molly, and his girlfriend over to the flat for a few drinks. Molly, however, couldn't make it until entertained by playing the violin.
Just a little past midnight, Molly came into the flat.
"Oh, dear Lord," Sherlock muttered. Anna kicked him softly.
"Be nice," she hissed. As Molly took off her coat to reveal a very small black party dress, Lucy lept up from in front of the fire place and bounded out the door.
"Lucy! Heel!" Anna cried after her, but the dog didn't stop. She watched from the window as Lucy ran down the street and around the corner.
"What's gotten into her? I better go find her." Anna reached for her coat but Sherlock placed his hand on top of hers, stoping her. She turned her head slightly and he was so close their noises were almost touching. Her breath caught in her throat.
"Do you really think that's wise?" He whispered.
"Yes of course. There's no one out there if that's what you're worried about." Anna nodded toward the window. Outside, the streets were completely empty.
"Exactly. No witnesses."
Anna knew he was right, but that dog was her security system.
"I'll be fine. I promise," she smiled at him and he backed off a bit. She wrapped the coat around her and darted off.
The streets were covered with fresh snow so it was easy to find Lucy's paw prints. Anna followed the prints around a few corners and down some alleyways. She turned into a dead end and was about to turn around when Lucy bounded out from the shadows toward Anna.
"There you are," Anna murmured stroking the dogs head. Their was a faint noise, like someone snapping their fingers, and Lucy obediently ran back towards the noise.
That's not my dog, Anna thought and she took a few steps back as a figure stepped forward towards her.
"Oh I'm sorry," he said and she gasped. "Did you think this was your dog?" Jim smiled at her and she turned to run, but it was difficult to run in fresh snow.
As fast as she could, Anna retraced her steps back to the flat, never looking back once. When she got the the flat, she threw the door open, slamming it behind her, and noisily ran up the stairs. The conversation in the room had stopped and they all turned to stare at Anna. Her face was flushed and she was covered in snow. After a moment of standing in the doorway, she burst into tears.
"You were right," she choked out at Sherlock. "God, I'm so stupid." She covered her face with her hands. Sherlock took her coat off her and lead her over to the couch.
"Sherlock what's going on?" John asked nervously.
"I believe Anna and a bit if a sibling reunion tonight, am I right?" He asked her. She nodded, still shaking.
Sherlock smirked at her. "Would it be insensitive of me to say I told you so?" He asked. She glared at him through her tears and punched his arm.
"Very."
After she calmed down, Anna went to check the window. Sherlock had revived yet another text from /her/ and had gone into his room with a little red package.
Anna carefully peered out the window and saw her brother standing below it. He smiled and waved at her. She glared at him and drew the curtains shut as intimidating as she could.
John had gone back to Sherlock's room to make sure he was alright. When he came back, he informed the rest of the party that Ms. Adler was dead. A few minutes later, Sherlock came out of his room and asked Molly to meet him at St. Bart's before taking his coat and leaving.
"Should I-" Anna started to ask but John shook his head.
"Leave him. I think that will be best for both of you." Anna nodded and slumped down on the couch. John's phone rang soon after that and he left the room to answer it. When he came back, he said it was Mycroft, worried about Sherlock. John had told him that Sherlock was headed to St. Bart's and that Mycroft should meet him there. Maybe offer him a cigarette to see if he'd take it. If he did, it was probably a danger night.
"Help me search," John told Anna and together the rummaged through the flat trying to find any hint of Sherlock's stashes. Upon finding nothing, they went back into the living room. Lestrade had left for home, but John's girlfriend still sat in the living room, clearly irritated.
"You might want to spend some time with her," Anna whispered. John nodded and sat next to her on the couch.
John later received another call from Mycroft informing him that Sherlock took the cigarette. John let Mycroft know that they hasn't found anything.
"Are you sure tonight's a danger night?" John asked him.
"No," Mycroft responded. "But then, I never am. You have to stay with him John."
"I've got plans."
"No." Mycroft said firmly and hung up. John glared at his phone before apologizing to Janet.
"You know, my friends were wrong about you." She said.
"Huh?"
"Your a great boyfriend."
"Ok, that's good," John said a little taken aback. "I always thought I was great."
"Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man." She reached for her shoes and tugged them on her heels. John sighed. He was getting very tired of being accused for being gay.
"Oh, Janet please."
"No, I mean it. It's heartwarming. You'll do anything for him. You can even tell your girlfriends apart. She stood to leave and John chased desperately after her.
"I'll do anything you want, just tell me." He begged her.
"Don't make me compete with Sherlock Holmes," she said simply, tugging on her coat.
"I'll walk your dog for you," John suggested.
"I don't have a dog!"
"Right because that was the other one," John muttered.
"Jesus," Janet exclaimed as she picked up her back to leave.
"I'll call you?" John asked as she made her way down the stairs.
"Nope!" She hollered back.
"That really wasn't very good, was it?" Mrs. Hudson muttered.
"Honestly John, you have less luck than my brother when it comes to girls." Anna said. "Molly was his first girlfriend in years and she hardly counts."
When Sherlock came back to the flat, Anna was curled up on in her usual spot on the couch, asleep. John sat next to the fire reading.
"You ok?" John asked him as he came in. There was a very vacant expression on Sherlock's face. He turned to retire to his bedroom, but before disappearing, he muttered to John, "I hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time." John sighed, putting his book down and covered his face with his hand, unsure of how he'd be able to handle Sherlock now. At least Anna was here with him. She'd help make the next few weeks more bearable.