Evaluation

noun-

the making of a judgment about the amount, number, or value of something; assessment.


"Mr. Holmes. Are you listening to me?"

Sherlock sighed as his attention was diverted from deducing the rabble walking by. His eyes flickered over the woman sitting before him, but his focus soon shifted towards the street again. He had surmised over an hour ago that he was being interviewed by an ambitious, mildly egotistic, pessimistic, wannabe psychologist.

"Mr. Holmes." The woman said again with obvious annoyance.

"Yes, Ms..." Sherlock glanced at her name tag. "Donner?"

"You are here because you broke into a high-security bank-"

"There was a perfectly viable reason-" Sherlock interrupted.

"Oh yes!" Ms. Donner flipped through her notes with a plastic smile. "You claimed that a Jim Moriarty had led you there, and prompted you to break into a federal vault. And why was that? He told you there was information about..."

Sherlock's glare grew fiery, and Eliza Donner sensed that that was a delicate topic for the Consulting Detective. She casually ticked off a box on her clipboard.

"You are aware I'm sure, I have the power to approve, or deny your continued work with Scotland Yard."

"Lestrade will find a way." Sherlock replied dismissively.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade agreed wholeheartedly to this evaluation." She shot back.

Sherlock met the woman's eyes before him, and decided this was an utter waste of precious time. There were much more important things to do, even if he would have to do them outside the law. He stood up and walked to the door, prepared to leave.

"It says here," Ms. Donner said casually. "You are affiliated with a Mr. John Watson."

"Doctor John Watson." Sherlock hissed, his hand on the door knob.

"Sit down Mr. Holmes." Eliza deadpanned.

Sherlock inhaled deeply through his nose. Automatically, a facade of patience contorted his face. He spun on his heel to meet the Ms. Donner's gaze.

"Perhaps we can come to an agreement?" Sherlock said lightly.

"Oh I'm sure..." Eliza said with an eye roll.

Sherlock growled angrily, and plopped into the cheap leather chair. This was the epitome of frustration, even worse than staying at Mummy's with Mycroft.

"How would you describe your relationship with Doctor Watson?"

"He's my partner." Sherlock said, then with an afterthought added, "In solving crimes."

Ms. Donner's eyebrows rose, she made a quick note on her clipboard. Sherlock shifted in his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of her paper. He saw the words, relies heavily on an appearance of no emotions-, before she caught him out at it. She gave him a sarcastic smirk and laid the clipboard face-down on her lap.

"And... exactly how long have you been acquainted with him?"

The question brought back memories of pink, Stamford, Baker Street, and an intriguing army doctor who missed the war.

"Five years, seven months, eleven days, and.. twelve hours." Sherlock replied, returning her smirk.

She leaned back into the sofa, her pencil teasing the corner of her lip.

"Including the time you were dead?" She asked.

That gave Sherlock momentary pause.

"No." He answered shortly.

"It says here that your flatmate Doctor Watson, has been on the missing person list at Scotland Yard for two weeks now."

Sherlock said nothing.

"You submitted a police report that he was kidnapped by Jim Moriarty for.. leverage was it?"

Sherlock made no move at all, his chest barely even moved as he breathed.

"And you broke into a bank because Moriarty told you that he would give you information of Doctor Watson's whereabouts if you did."

Eliza Donner smiled as she observed her patient clearly struggling with his motto of 'no emotions'.

"I've figured you out Mr. Holmes," She said. "There's no more hiding from me."

Sherlock unfroze and a hand slowly rose to his face. He shielded his eyes, and coughed.

Ms. Donner's smile became kind.

"You're free to go." She said.

Sherlock unfolded out of his cocoon, and met her eyes questioningly.

"You clearly want to do nothing else then find your friend, so I suggest you hurry up about it. You are certifiably... well," She grinned. "You're not normal are you?"