Summary: Evelyn wanted nothing more than to escape her father's web for good, but after five years, she's forced back into the world of lies. Mission? Spy on Sherlock Holmes, the only man who could possibly stop her father's latest schemes, and make sure he doesn't catch on to them.
Sherlock pays no mind to one Evelyn Clarke. That is until he realizes there's more to the woman then he originally thought.
John Is quite taken with Evelyn, the kind woman who moved in downstairs. He means to pursue her, that is until he realizes Sherlock as taken interest. Does this mean Sherlock has finally found someone to love?
….
A/N: This is my first Sherlock fic and I admit I'm a bit nervous. This fic is not for the faint of heart. There will be trigger topics including but not limited to, child abuse, rape, and murder. If these topics are a trigger please do not read. Also I'm American, I'm not sure all my wording is right. Please if you see me calling something the wrong word let me know and I'll make note of it for future use. This fan fic will be pairing Sherlock with an OC. I will do my best to not make her a Mary sue. In my mind she is a well-rounded person and I hope to get that through to my readers. John is a big part of the story as well and I do not ignore their special bond. Also note that I've made Rosie younger then I believe she was when Mary passed away. I know she was a bit older where we left of in the show, but chose to ignore that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of The Sins of Eve
…
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. All credit goes to the writer/creators of the show
…
Chapter One: Blackmail
…..
Evelyn was a creature of habit. Someone who liked things structured and planned. She liked knowing that everything would fall into place exactly as she wanted. She didn't like surprises or spontaneity. Everything had a place, and a time. Or at least that's what she would have you believe.
In reality, she was bored of the same routine. The same people, the same places. The fact that she knew what would happen every day, and when. But this was the price she paid for freedom. The price she paid for leaving her life of crime behind her.
When she found herself on the run five years ago she wasn't sure what to do with herself. The people she fled had given her an out, but she knew that without the pardon, that they would be able to find her, and bring her back to the life she despised, and worse, the men she despised.
She ended up in this small town in Connecticut, where everyone knew everyone, and if a new face were to show up, and seem suspicious in any way, she was bound to hear about it. She felt safer being in an environment she knew. There wasn't a route within fifty miles she didn't know. She also decided that having a routine versus not having one was better. They would suspect that she wouldn't do things routinely because that's what people are told to do when they are on the run. Don't settle. Never do the same thing twice in the same place. She decided to do the opposite in hopes that they wouldn't look for that pattern.
This morning was like every other one. She woke, had coffee, ate half a bagel, and was currently on her morning run. Evelyn waved at her neighbor, Mr. Jenkins, who was tending to his garden. Well, actually, it was Mrs. Jenkins garden, but she had passed the year before, and Mr. Jenkins kept it up. He had told her that Mrs. Jenkins would stop by on occasion, and she would haunt him if she saw her garden ruined.
Down the usual nature trail, Evelyn knew all the faces. Abby and Donna were twins who were obsessed with looks, so she passed them every morning on their way back to their house. Colby was often found chatting up one of the woman runners, and today was no different. Stephanie ran with her for a couple minutes, catching her up on the gossip. Apparently the widow Snider has been spending time with Tim, which would be fine if Tim wasn't married to Cathy.
Evelyn stopped for water and to catch her breath at the cliff. It was a spot of the mountain that jutted out so you could see a wonderful view of the valleys below. This was one of her favorite views in Connecticut . Not that she had seen all of Connecticut, mind you.
She was about to start back up when her phone went off. Assuming it was Rachel, she didn't bother looking at caller ID before answering. "Hey, you."
"It's breathtaking view, isn't it," Elijah replied.
That deep eerie voice made her blood run cold, and her heart skip a beat. Evelyn Looked around her, but she saw no one. She was currently alone on this part of the trail. Or at least alone as far as she could see. Her throat was dry, so she had to swallow a few times before she could respond. "What do you want?" There was no point in asking how he found her. That part was simple enough.
"Can't a father call his child to say hello?" His deep voice and British accent were so familiar to her, and she wanted to scream.
Que the nausea. "Not when that father is you." Evelyn did another pass on her surroundings. He must be somewhere in the woods. Or maybe he'd scouted the area beforehand, and her routine.
"Dearest Ivy, you look a bit off color, you feeling well?"
"My name is Evelyn," She replied. She hated when he called her Ivy. Perhaps it was because that's what she was called in her old life. "I asked you a question." She sounded braver than she felt. Could he really see her? Or was he just messing with her head?
"I thought you liked the nick name I'd given you?" He paused with a snicker. Ah well, I am in need of my best spy."
"No."
"You don't even know the assignment yet."
"I don't need to. I have no interest in being in your web again."
"You were never out of my web, Ivy. I never pardoned you!" His voice was angry for a moment, but he quickly composed himself. "Now, I think it's time for a bit of incentive. That's a sweet boy you've got there. How old is he? About four I'd say."
Evelyn's heart dropped. How? How had he known about Oliver? "What are you talking about?" she asked as calm as she could, but she was already walking again, heading instinctively in the direction her son was.
"I know everything. You didn't think I would know my own blood? I have to admit that I'm disappointed he's blind. Can't really steal if you're blind can you? What's with the clicking sounds he makes?"
"We aren't really blood," Evelyn reminded him. Her phone beeped, indicating that someone was trying to ring through.
"You should get that. It's Rachel and I'm sure she's frantic that Oliver is missing,"
No! her head yelled as she switched over. "Rach…"
"He's gone! I went upstairs for just a minute. I was just changing my pants! Oh god, my baby!"
"It's okay, Rachel. I know where he is," she said the words in a soothing tone even as her own stomach rolled.
"It's them, isn't it?"
Evelyn didn't need Rachel to be more specific than that. Rachel knew what she had been in, and when she asked Rachel to raise Oliver as her own, Rachel knew the why of it, and that this could be an outcome. "I promise you, I will get him back. I'll do whatever it takes." Rachel sobbed, echoing the cries in Evelyn's own heart. "I'll see you soon, okay. Just please don't call the cops."
Evelyn switched back to her nightmare, "What is my mission?"
…
"That's bloody brilliant!" John said as he and Sherlock climbed up the stairs of 221B Baker street.
"It was obvious," Sherlock retorted with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Sherlock, you could tell from a cry that Rosie was hungry. A cry."
"Rosie has five different cries, John. I've just merely observed them."
John looked at Sherlock with admiration and annoyance. It was a Sherlock thing to do. To note that the baby has more than one cry. It sounded all the same to him. "What different cries does she have?" he inquired.
"Hungry, tired, wet, wants held, uncomfortable." Sherlock replied as he scrolled through their potential case list.
Sherlock looked up at John has he put Rosie in the portable crib. He smiled a bit at the man, though he would never let John see. He often found himself admiring his best friend. John was, in fact, only one of the very few people Sherlock could even stand, and the only one he admired.
He looked away quickly when John faced him. "Anything good?"
"All boring," Sherlock complained as he plopped into his chair. "So many of the same." He waved his hand dismissively before bringing them together, and to his chin. "I need a good case."
"We can work a boring one until something better comes along," John suggested.
Sherlock looked over at Rosie, and was about to point out that they couldn't really work a case with Rosie, when Mrs. Hudson's voice drifted up from down the stairs.
"My goodness how you've grown!"
Sherlock's brows pulled together as he went down to investigate. Down the stairs was a woman with a few suitcases and bags. "Moving in?" Sherlock said, already knowing that was the case. Mrs. Hudson watched him with worried eyes. She rocked from one foot to the other, indicating that she was nervous.
"Sherlock, this is Evelyn Clarke. My good friend's niece. She will be staying in the empty flat." she looked back at Evelyn. "How is Jenny? She sounded sick over the phone."
"She's doing well." She replied to Mrs. Hudson, before looking at the guys. "It's nice to meet you," Evelyn held out her hand, but Sherlock didn't take it. He was looking at her as if he were x-raying her.
Sherlock decided at once that she was ordinary, and wouldn't give them any trouble. She clearly has spent time in America recently. Given that she only had two cases, a bag, and small trunk, she left in a hurry. Or perhaps she isn't the sentimental kind. Right handed, nervous compulsion to swipe bangs to the side.
"Nice to meet you, I'm John Watson," John said, pushing past Sherlock to shake the woman's hand.
Evelyn smiled and nodded.
Sherlock watched as John did the gentlemanly thing to do, and help Evelyn to her flat. Deciding that he wasn't at all interested, he made his way back upstairs. Surely there had to be something worthwhile to solve!
…
"It's a bit of a fixer upper, but at least we were able to get the mold out," Mrs. Hudson said as she went to the curtains to opened them. "You have everything you need in the kitchen, but you will have to invest in a washer-dryer if you don't want to go to the launderette."
"This is really great. I appreciate you taking me in," Evelyn replied. The flat was a nice one. Smaller than the one in Connecticut, but this was temporary, and necessary.
"Do you have any furniture, dear?"
"I've ordered some. The load should be arriving soon."
"Well then, I'll leave you to it. I'll make tea and biscuits if you feel like a cuppa." With that, Mrs. Hudson left.
"So, you're the neighbors," she said conversationally to John.
"Sort of. Sherlock lives upstairs, but I'm over quite a bit. If you ever need anything, please don't be afraid to knock."
Evelyn thought about how dismissive Sherlock had been. "You sure about that? Sherlock doesn't seem like the helping hand type."
"Ah well, he can be a bit of a dick, but he will help if asked."
"I think that depends on who's doing the asking."
"Yes well." John cleared his throat.
"I will knock if I need anything. Thank you."
…
"She's not the one for you," Sherlock said to John as he entered the room.
"Piss off," John replied, as he sat in his chair. He thought about the dark haired woman he just met. She was a beauty for sure, and those Soft hazel eyes captivated him. Naturally, Mary popped into his head, and he felt his heart ache. He wasn't ready for anything serious just now. So what would it matter if he had a good time with the wrong one? "Why not?"
"She's not looking for anything serious. She doesn't plan on being here long term. Whatever she's doing here, it's not something she wants to be doing." Sherlock looked over at John. "You need someone long term. Someone you can rely on to care for Rosie."
"Did it occur to you that maybe I'm just looking for a good time?"
Sherlock thought that over. "Oh, well in that case, she's perfect for you."
Sherlock smiled to himself. It was good to see John showing interest. After Mary, he was afraid for his best friend. Greif had brought John down a lonely path that was darkened by the flirtatious texts John had kept from Mary. John felt as though he cheated on her, and once she was gone, that was a guilt John would have to live with.
Sherlock pulled out his violin. The song that filled the room was beautiful, original and brought tears to John's eyes. It was the song Sherlock had composed and played for them at their wedding. A month ago he would have told Sherlock to stop, but he found himself comforted by the melody more then it saddened him.
Sherlock played as he looked out the window. The street below was as it always was. The same people coming and going. The taxes and cars zipping by. Mrs. Hudson stood by the truck along with Evelyn, and the two seemed to be directing the movers. What should go in first?.
Every now and again, Evelyn would look around her, surveying her surroundings. The action seemed so natural, he doubted she was even aware she did it. Hmm, maybe not so dull after all. A troubled childhood. Or maybe on the run. No, not on the run. She doesn't seem nervous. Just cautious.
Rosie's cries broke through his thoughts. He regarded her with a mixture of love (yes, love) and mild annoyance. Rosie seemed to be more fussy of late.
"Come now, Rosebud," John said cheerfully as he lifted her into his arms. "Daddy's here." John bounced her in his arms as he swayed side to side. "All's well," he cooed.
"Don't do the baby talk, John. It'll slow her speech development."
"Really now? And how would you know?" Sherlock didn't hold on to anything he would consider useless information.
"I…Happened upon it on the internet."
John smiled at Sherlock. "I see." He had to hold back a laugh. "So, how often do you happen upon information about child development?"
"Shut up," Sherlock replied. He started playing again, cutting off any further discussion, and Rosie's cries. It did Sherlock good to see her regard him with fascination. She would grow up good indeed. He had done enough reading to ensure it.
….
Evelyn looked about her space after everything was said and done. She chose bright colors to contrast the darkness she felt inside. Why be depressing on both the inside and out? She did feel a little out of place though. Her yellow sofa isn't something she would usually go for, and the orange chairs did nothing to tie the room together. Her curtains were yellow with an orange floral print. The color scheme was not her favorite, but it fit the personality she chose.
Evelyn Clarke, she had to use her real name because Mrs. Hudson already knows her. Or of her. She remembers meeting the woman twice over the course of her life. Jenny was her "fathers" sister. She would sometimes bring her out with her and therefore when they saw Mrs. Hudson Jenny introduced her as her niece So the name had to be the same. But her personality needed to be friendly and helpful. She's a kind hearted young woman who has just come back from her travels around America. Someone who's a bit shy, so it's not going to be a surprise when she says very little. Someone who will simply be in the background.
Luckily, her bedroom was a different story. Seeing how it was unlikely that anyone of importance would see her room, she toned down the bright. There she chose deep blue and white as her color scheme. It was simply decorated with a few paintings that caught her eye over the years. Her favorite was of a mother and daughter cheerfully splashing around in a puddle as it rained. Maybe she would move that one to the living room. It would fit the happy colors there.
Evelyn sat on her bed, exhausted from the days work. Now that she was unpacked and settled in, it was time for the act to really begin. John was obviously her way in. He was nice, and she believed him when he said to knock any time she needed them. She wasn't surprised at this, however. She spent a great deal of the previous week reading John Watson's blog, as well as anything else she could find on the famous duo. So far, each man was living up to her expectation.
She closed here eyes when she heard the knock on her door. "Evie?" Mrs Hudson called from the front door.
Evelyn quickly put a smile on her face, and opened way for Mrs. Hudson. "Hey."
"Hello, dear. I just wanted to be sure you were settling in alright."
"Yeah, I'm all unpacked, and settled. Thank you"
"Not a problem, dear. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."
After saying goodnight, Evelyn bathed, before settling into bed for the night. Tomorrow the real work began.
…
I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. Thanks :D