Cheshire sighed as Sherlock and John left her at another crime scene yet again. "Greg, do you mind giving me a ride home?" she asked as Greg got his keys out. The grey haired man sighed and looked up. "How many times is he going to leave you?" Cheshire took that as a 'Yes' and got in the passenger side. Greg climbed in his car and started the engine. "This is, what, about the seventh time?" asked the detective inspector. "I would say ninth." Cheshire responded as she put her seat belt on and looked out the window of the moving vehicle. "Lestrade, is something off about Sherlock? It seems he is tense or distraught. I want a second opinion before I started finding out what to do about him." Greg sighed as he pulled to the stop light. He gave it some thought before agreeing with her and starting to comb through his memory of the past few days. "I would say this is the result of the latest case. A teenage girl, one looking a lot like you, was found dead last week. Lately girls of your physical looks are dropping like flies once a day." Cheshire seemed to have frozen where she sat and goosebumps littered her pale soft skin. Greg got worried and shook her shoulder a little. No response. Cheshire was remembering C.C.K and Francis Narmen. She remembered how she was hurt and subconsciously reached for the scar on her shoulder where C.C.K has stabbed her just a year ago. Greg sighed and put on the radio as a distraction. "Greg, is this person targeting me?" Cheshire finally asked with a slight tone of uncertainty in her voice. He pulled up to the flat on Baker Street and sighed. "I don't know. I do know your brother will protect you." He watched her get out of the car and into the flat.
Cheshire walked in and saw Sherlock thinking as John made tea. "I'll be in my room." Cheshire mumbled as she walked in. "Cheshire, keep your guard up when you are alone or you go out." warned Sherlock. Cheshire kept walking and shut her door. John finished the tea and went to see if she wanted a cup. "Cheshire, want some tea?" he knocked. John heard her music bleeding from the door and peeked in to make sure she was okay. "I'm leaving a cup for you here." John set a coaster on her desk with some tea within. Cheshire was writing in her journal and sighed before she paused her phone. "John, why is this always about me getting my head nearly cut off?" she asked tiredly. John sighed and shrugged. "I suppose someone is writing your fate down this way, Lisa." John was trying to lift he mood a little, but it would only go so far for her. "Yeah, God is writing a book about me." she sarcastically said with an equally sarcastic look. John scoffed with a smile of amusement and sat down on a free chair. "I wouldn't say God, but maybe those Fates you like to study in the Norse stories." John smiled. Cheshire sighed and crossed her legs on the chair. She put her journal away and rubbed her eyes before rolling her head on her shoulders. "John, I'm tired of you and Sherlock leaving me places." she sighed as she sipped the tea and started drawing some person on a scrap piece of paper. "God, sorry about that! I didn't even realize you were gone until you came home." John apologized with a weak smile. Cheshire looked up from her paper and tilted her head. "I have a friend in America who is a blind lawyer. He taught me how to listen close to things around me when I can't see." Cheshire suddenly said. John wasn't following until Sherlock came in and locked the door. "Someone is coming with something. Sounds like a gun, but it could be a brief case filled to the clips. It isn't Mycroft. This person is male, but his heartbeat is erratic with excitement." Cheshire listed out as she listened. Sherlock didn't ask and kept his weight on the door. John wasn't sure why Sherlock was so spooked and knew it was bad if it scared the great Sherlock Holmes. "It is an old classmate of mine. He has a habit of being a troll or hitting on everything he likes. At one point it was me." Sherlock admitted. Cheshire sighed and pulled her pocket knife out. "Ferguson?" she asked. Sherlock nodded and let her loose from her room before locking it behind her. Harold Ferguson knocked on the door to 221b and patiently waited. "William, come on, please open up." Harold called. Cheshire opened it and glared at him from the door. "Sherlock and his friend are out. Leave, Ferguson. I will call Mycroft." Cheshire spoke with a demanding and cold tone. "Lisa, you have grown up! Oh, now you are even cuter than when you were little. A little sexy looking too, may I say. I wonder why all the boys in the neighborhood aren't howling at your door." Harold said with a flirtatious tone. Cheshire showed her knife and her glare darkened.
John swore Sherlock would burst out of that room and push Harold down the stairs. He was disgusted that a man near his thirties would hit on a girl about half his age. Sherlock paced silently in his sister's room as the transaction took place outside. The tall brunette locked himself so he wouldn't wring Harold's neck and kill him. The man always rubbed people the wrong way and disgusted Sherlock. "Leave, Harold. I am serious." They heard Cheshire snap loudly. "Oh, love, please? Just stay and keep me company?" Harold asked with a dark intent. Cheshire slammed the door in his face and heard him yelp when it hit his nose. Sherlock and John walked out to see her angrily eating an apple on the couch. "He is a pervert. The way he stood said pedophile and the way his hands fidgeted on his hips told me he did it before. I would say ask his wife and children before telling Greg." Cheshire said with a mouthful of the fruit. Sherlock nodded and put his head to the door. He heard heavy breathing and someone tapping on a brief case. "Yeah, he's still out there. Yes, I'm calling Greg." Cheshire said. John knew she was acting as if she was on the phone. Cheshire picked up her cell phone and then speed dialed Greg by pressing the number five. "Greg? Yeah, uh, Sherlock's old stalker is here." Cheshire said over the phone. Sherlock heard footsteps hammer down the stairs and then heard Harold trip and fall down the remaining five. He smiled when he heard Mrs. Hudson curse Harold out of the building. John sighed and was glad that episode was over with. "So, Sherlock had a stalker?" John inquired. Cheshire sighed and hung up. Tossing the phone aside, she stretched. "He joined us for dinner one time and it was uncomfortable. Mycroft managed to pull strings and got Sherlock a restraining order against Harold. Worked for a year." Cheshire got up and looked out the window. "Looks like we should all keep our eyes open. B.J used to sleep with a gun under her pillow. Worked one time when Sammy snuck in one time to steal some of her blankets." John and Sherlock froze when she said that. "She what?" asked Sherlock after he gave his baby sister a good long glare. "She shoots rubber bullets at any attacker. Sammy is fine, he was just grazed on the arm. Honestly, Sherlock, I figured you would do the same with this life of yours."
Wow, 38 chapters! Man, I need to get out more. Well, if you read Bucky Junior Barnes, you would know B.J as I have said in the past chapters. I may actually restart B.J and make a new fic called The Fallen Three. It's Marvel, btw sooo. If you have any ideas how this story continues from here, message me ^-^ Review your hearts out readers!