Chapter 26
Ring ring!
I opened my eyes blearily. My night had been spent ordering various items and supplies, with premium shipping of course. Part of my back ached as I sat up, hair messy and clothes rumpled.
Ring ring!
Someone was actually ringing the doorbell. Must be the bed I ordered. Anyone else would have just barged in. I stood up and went outside to greet them. It was two men, carrying several pieces of a bed and a mattress. I led them in and they put the pieces in the bedroom, but that's where they stopped. Apparently they didn't do setup. Shit. I didn't want to do it. Well, it's not as if I needed to sleep in it right right away. But when I did, I would need sheets. And a pillow. And some lamps. And maybe some decor. The place was a little lacklustre. Maybe some plants would make it nicer...
I changed my clothes and ran a brush through my hair so I could look more presentable, then left my flat. I wondered if Sherlock and John were up yet. I went upstairs and knocked on the door.
"Not now Helen," I heard Sherlock say. "I still don't want you in here."
"Aww, come on Sherlock," I whined. "I'm not working for anyone except your brother and even then it's not like I'm keeping the money for myself. When I said I'd share I meant it. It's not like I'm gonna tell Mycroft the full truth anyway." He didn't respond. My ear pressed against the door. "Sherlock?" It suddenly opened I fell over as he stepped out of the way. "You could have caught me," I said irritably.
"Then I would have missed seeing that lovely face you made when you hit the floor," he said.
I looked up at him. "You're an ass."
"Yes, you have told me this before. And yet you seemingly come back for more. How curious." He offered his hand to help me stand back up. I took it gratefully. "This repeated exposure by your will seems to indicate masochistic tendencies."
"And your pleasure from these encounters would indicate sadistic tendencies," I countered.
"How do you know it's pleasure?" Sherlock asked with narrowed eyes.
I laughed. "Of course it's pleasure. If it wasn't you wouldn't let me hang around at all." He began laughing with me, and it was a nice moment. I wasn't being overly cryptic, and he wasn't being overly douchey. I noticed he had his coat and scarf on, and must be preparing to leave. "Are you going out?"
John appeared from around the corner, fiddling with his sleeve. "Yeah, we were going to..." He trailed off as he looked at us, or more specifically, our hands. Sherlock was still holding mine, and I was still letting him. I quickly withdrew it, brushing my palm on my shirt.
"Scotland Yard," Sherlock finished, putting his own hand in his pocket. "I wanted to speak to Lestrade."
"Oooh, can I come?" I asked. "I'll pay for the cab!"
Sherlock and John simultaneously said "no"and "yes" respectively, then glanced at each other.
"Sherlock," John began.
"No, I don't want her to come," he replied. "Out of all the places those shoes could have been they were in her flat and I think that says something."
"It's not like I put them there!" I told him. "They just happened to appear there after we left. Hell, Mycroft can tell you that. He was the last person out of my flat before you received the bloody picture on that phone and then walked in. I was with you the entire time, completely unable to have put them there myself."
"Sherlock, how about we let her pay, but not come inside?" John said. "That way she knows we're there and can report to Mycroft, but can't hear what we're talking about." Sherlock was silenced by this, not seeing a logical way to protest this.
"Sounds good to me," I said.
And twenty minutes later I dropped them off at Scotland Yard, with a promise from John that he would text me the location of wherever they went in case Mycroft wanted to know, provided that I pay for dinner that night.
But in the mean time, I needed sheets. And food. And I really wanted some plants. So I went to a couple stores and started buying stuff, when suddenly I got a text.
What is Sherlock up to now?
Mycroft Holmes
My grocery bag tumbled out of my hands. Aww shit. Why did Mycroft have to text me? I didn't wanna talk to his pale ass right then. I grabbed up some apples and ready made sammiches and set them on the floor by the cheese section. I replied back as quickly as possible.
He's presently berating me for my childish behaviour.
HR
That seemed plausible. I mean, I do act childish from time to time, so at the very least it was in the realm of possibility. Last time John had texted me they were at a crime scene, and Sherlock specifically requested his brother not know he was putting off the other case. I grabbed a couple cheeses and a baguette when I got another text. I took my phone out again and read it.
Really? It looks like you're out shopping actually. By the way, you might want to put that baguette back. It looks stale.
Mycroft Holmes
Holy shit he was staring at me. Fucking creep. I looked around and found a security cam directed solely at my every move. In protest I flipped it off, but did end up putting the baguette back and choosing another. Well, I guess I should have expected this. He did keep tabs on his brother quite closely, but I didn't think he'd keep close track of me too. Not much I could do about it at this point, except fess up. Honesty always is the best policy after all.
Thanks for the tip. My apologies, but Sherlock doesn't want me around and I've been having trouble convincing him otherwise.
HR
It was mere seconds when I received a reply.
How is that my problem? I'm paying you for a service, not excuses. If he doesn't trust you it's your job to make him trust you.
Mycroft Holmes
Man is he just a great big bag of dicks!
Well excuse me Mr. Fancypants, but I don't think you should be lecturing me about getting your brother's trust when you can't even get it yourself.
HR
I went to the register and paid for my groceries, then went right in to a department store in search of sheets. They had a good selection, and I figured I should buy a couple different sets just in case. It was a while before I got a response back from Mycroft.
That may be true, but it's not my job to keep an eye on Sherlock now is it? And don't get the flower pattern, it's won't fit with your colour scheme.
Mycroft Holmes
I "ugh"ed audibly at that point, prompting some stares from other customers. Smiling nervously, my fingers texted him back at an absolute furious pace.
What are you, my mom? Fine, I'll try harder. But I do have free will you know, and there were some things I needed to get for myself. John's texting me his location at all times so it's not as if I'm not aware of where he is. Just because I'm watching him for you doesn't mean I need to be glued to him.
HR
I bought the flower pattern anyway, just to spite him. En route home I found a little plant shop and bought myself some fern type looking plant that the lady said would last all year round as long as it was watered properly. Mycroft had messaged me back, but I ignored it while I unloaded my purchase and unpacked some boxes that had arrived. I was rather proud of what I had scraped together, and for some reason the fern really worked for me. I might go back and get more... But in the meantime I finally opened his text.
I know John is texting you. In fact I can see all texts that come or go from your phone. I'll let your lack of attentiveness slide this time, but I expect better work ethic in the future. On the subject of your mother, you wouldn't perhaps be willing to divulge her maiden name now would you?
Mycroft Holmes
That little shit had the gall to ask my mother's maiden name! Jeez, it's like nothing was sacred to him.
Go to hell.
HR
He didn't text me back after that. I sighed and appraised my humble (actually much less then humble) abode. I had a couch, a side table, my laptop, a fern, bed sheets, a random assortment of new and vintage clothing, and a disassembled bed that I had no desire to put together as of yet. Inside the boxes that had arrived were a mini fridge, a set of plastic dish ware including plates, cups, forks, spoons, and knives, a small lamp, and another box that I didn't order. Inside was a smallish alarm clock. Must've been delivered by mistake. Oh well, it was mine now.
I glanced at my phone and saw more messages, all from John, updating me on Sherlock's current whereabouts. The last one said he was at St. Bart's running some kind of test. I wanted to text him everything he'd found out today and tell him all the answers, but I wasn't sure if that was a good idea. Promoting my foreknowledge was basically like waving the French flag whilst eating a croissant with the words 'works with Moriarty' written on it in chocolate. Although to be fair by the time Sherlock got a good look at the croissant most of it would probably be eaten. Eaten by me. Shit, now I wanted a croissant. I blame Sherlock.
Well, I thought, maybe if I don't tell him but simply make observations, then let him jump to conclusions. That way he gets the answer, I don't seem as suspicious, and yet I still can lord over him the fact that he only made the conclusion because of me.
So Sherlock, John said you went to Janus Cars. Isn't that a god with like, two faces or some shit like that?
HR
Yes this was a brilliant plan. My phone made a noise.
I just received a phone call from the bomber telling me the clue is in the name. Either Moriarty hired a complete idiot or you're just a complete idiot with bad timing
SH
That dickhead! I wasn't even going to bother texting him, no sir, I was going to resort straight to the phone call. I pressed call and waited for a moment, drumming my fingertips on a nearby surface. I heard him pick up.
"Hello?" He said calmly.
"I am not an idiot Sherlock Holmes!" I spat at him.
"Curious," he muttered.
"What's curious you grand master of douchebaggery?"
"I thought for certain the first thing you would say to me would be some form of protest in regards to my repeated assertion that you are in league with Moriarty. Instead you have elected to denying your true nature," I let out a 'hey' at this point, "and have thus ignored my attempt to expose you. All this I classify as curious." He paused for a moment, so I jumped in.
"Well of course I've taken to ignoring you about that, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future."
"Why?" He asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" He didn't respond. "Nothing I have said thus far has convinced you otherwise to my allegiances, so why bother? It's just wasted breath. Besides, if I am the idiot you so rudely judged me as, I'm sure the truth will come out soon enough." I waited for a few moments until...
"Alright," he said. "I believe you. For now."
"Wait, what? No, Sherlock-"
"No no Helen, believe me when I say that I have no trouble imagining Moriarty shuddering at the very thought of hiring someone like you."
"Hey now, what's that supposed to me-"
"I'm almost finished here. I just have to clear some things with Lestrade and then you're paying for dinner. It's takeout tonight. See you later." And then he hung up on me.
That bastard hung up on me!
Oh dear lord I finally got it done! And it's not midnight for once! I suppose miracles happen once in a while (if you belieeeveee!).
Well right now I'm on vacation, but don't worry. It just means I have extra time to write! Actually at the moment I'm in Maine. It's kinda been a wish of mine to meet the people who read my ramblings, so if you live near Rockland, Maine, maybe we can meet up at a cafe or something. I dunno, PM me if interested and nearby. But if under 18, clear it with your parents okay? I don't want them thinking I'm some creeper.
Anyway I love you all so so so much and I look forward until next time!