You have to keep in mind that Emily is shy around strangers. So I really hope this chapter is ok.
Let me know your thoughts?
Was anyone at SDCC last night? If you were, I am SO jealous of you.
I don't own, only Emily. Sorry for any spelling/punctuation mistakes I may have made and failed to correct.
One last thing before I start the chapter: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BENEDICT!
At five o' clock, John Watson was waiting patiently outside St Bart's hospital, he'd been there since ten to. But at ten minutes past, he had begun to worry. Perhaps she had forgotten their meeting and had already headed home. Perhaps she had even changed her mind. Perhaps something had happened to her.
His eyes scanned the few amount of people that were walking by as he took his phone from his pocket in order to text her. But he needn't have bothered.
"Sorry I'm late John." A somewhat breathless voice sounded from his left. He turned to face it's owner and found Emily, smiling whilst trying to catch her breath.
"Hello, you look..." He started but did not know how to finish his sentence., if she hadn't have spoken to him first, he would not have recognised her. Today, she was wearing a pair of bootleg jeans, a black t shirt that he could only just make out from underneath her coat and a pair of converse. Her hair was tied in a ponytail so her face was in full view. It was certainly a change from how she had looked the day before.
"The word you're looking for is 'different' John." She continued to grin at him as he put his phone away.
"Yes. Different." He muttered. But he could think of many more words to describe how she was looking, none of them were negative. "I thought you were working today?"
"I was. But I didn't fancy going out afterwards in work clothes. Bought some spare ones in with me. Can we stop for a drink before we head over to Baker Street? I'd kill for some decent coffee."
"You took the words right out of my mouth." He said as he offered her his arm again before they both headed off in the direction of the coffee shop they had visited the day before.
It wasn't long before they were asking each other questions, and getting to know each other. He told her about his Army days that he didn't go into much detail about, but gave her the basics when she asked. He told her about his sister that Mr Holmes had believed to be his brother yesterday, where he was currently living now and the fact that he couldn't find a job. He even told her about searching the curious Sherlock Holmes on the internet the previous night and what he had discovered.
In turn she told him about her half brother, her Mother, offered him her boring job and even complained to him for a good half an hour about her boss; the reason for her lateness. He listened attentively as she spoke, he was glad of the company.
They were now walking down Baker Street together, searching for the right address. Emily calmly keeping pace with him as she had done all evening.
"221B" She mumbled as they came closer to a big black door located next to a café, just as a taxi pulled up "This is it." She stepped forward to bang the knocker on the door.
"Hello." They both turned to find the tall man paying the taxi.
"Ah, Mr Holmes." John greeted him.
"Sherlock please." He made his way towards them offering John his hand before doing the same to Emily. He was glad to find that she had a firm handshake.
"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive." John stated.
"But convenient." Emily added on looking down the street. There was a tube station not far from where they were; a quick and easy way to get to work.
"Indeed." Sherlock told her with an analysing look before turning back to John. "Mrs Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."
"Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?"
"Oh no. I ensured it." He smiled at Emily, enjoying the shocked look on her face as she contemplated how someone could be sentenced to death these days. The door opened to reveal a little old lady who opened her arms to the younger man.
"Sherlock." He walked into her arms and hugged her briefly before stepping back to introduce the pair behind him.
"Mrs Hudson, Miss Emily Cooper and Doctor John Watson." Emily held her hand out to the woman but got a shock when she was instead pulled into a welcoming embrace, almost tripping up the steps.
"Hello my dear." She let the younger woman go and turned to the older man. "Hello" she greeted him.
"How do?" He responded.
"Come in." She gestured for them to step inside. John indicated for Emily to go first. The door shut firmly behind them as they made their way upstairs following Sherlock; John at his usual hobbling pace, Emily a little a head of him.
She smiled at her spot from beside Sherlock at John as they waited just outside the door for him to catch up. She couldn't help it. She was rather excited to be here, even if she knew next to nothing about the tall man standing next to her. She caught his eye and smiled a little shyly at him, he sent one back, but she didn't for a second believe it was real.
It was only when John had reached the landing that Sherlock stopped examining the girl beside him, and opened the door behind him, heading into the room.
Emily stopped a few paces in, leaving John with enough space to enter behind her. The room had a certain homey feel about it that might have had something to do with the comfortable looking arm chairs and rather inviting settee. Perhaps it was the welcoming fireplace, or the already almost filled bookcases, or the desk that was cluttered with boxes. Whatever it was, she already liked it.
"Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed." John stated as he to, took in his surroundings. "What do you think Em?" He asked the immobile girl who was stood in the middle of the room, looking around in awe.
"I think it's great." She beamed, looking out of the large windows from her vantage point, completely missing the twitch of the lips that belonged to the younger man.
"Yes." The two men looked around the flat happily as Emily walked towards the kitchen. "Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely." Sherlock started unbuttoning his coat. "So I went straight ahead and moved in."
"Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out..."
"Get the boxes cleared away..." The three of them spoke simultaneously.
"So this is all..." John started to ask.
"Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit." He talked over John as he headed towards the desk and started to throw a few things into a box. Emily and John watched as he took some unopened envelopes, placed them on the mantelpiece and stabbed them with a knife.
"I suppose it's better than doing that to the people who wrote them." Emily mumbled to herself just as she caught sight of a skull.
"Is this a real skull?" She asked standing right in front of it now, peering into it's eye sockets.
"Friend of mine. When I say 'friend'..." Sherlock told her before walking off to the other side of the room. Emily couldn't help but wonder who's it had been, if it was even real; his answer had been anything but an answer. She also had to wonder where you could get a skull that looked so life like without actually going grave robbing.
"What do you think then, Miss Cooper? Doctor Watson?" Mrs Hudson asked as she entered the room picking up a cup and saucer from the table in front of the settee. "There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing another one?"
Emily laughed but quickly covered it with a cough, turning toward the books that were in a state of almost neatness on the shelves.
"Of course I'll be needing another one." He sounded a little curious.
"Oh, don't worry; there's all sorts round here." Mrs Hudson's voice lowered to a whisper as she continued. "Mrs Turner next door's got married ones." Emily hid her smile behind her hand, while her other hand danced over the tops of the books. She pulled a few out to see what their titles were when she came across one that was the wrong way round, but gently pushed them back in instead of turning it round. She didn't live here after all.
"Oh, Sherlock. The mess you've made." She looked round to find Mrs Hudson standing in the doorway to the kitchen, indicating the table that was covered in pretty much the same equipment that had been in the lab yesterday.
John plumped up a cushion that was sitting on the red armchair in front of the fireplace before dropping heavily down into it. He sat and watched Sherlock tidy up a little.
"I looked you up on the internet last night." He broke the silence as Sherlock turned his laptop on.
"Anything interesting?" He turned to the other man. Emily looked over her shoulder to watch the conversation unfold.
"Found your website. The science of Deduction." She had of course already heard all of this earlier, but she still listened anyway.
"What did you think?" He smiled proudly. But it quickly vanished when John sent him a "you have got to be kidding me" look. He flicked his gaze over at the blonde girl. "What did you think?"
"Didn't see it." She replied honestly, causing his frown to become more visible.
"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." John said before the taller man could say anything more to her.
"Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone." He looked at the blonde again. "And I could tell your job just by looking at your clothes, and tell you've had enough of living with your Mother by your mobile phone and your stance." His lips twitched again as if he had been going to smile as she blushed.
"How?" John asked. This time, instead of responding, Sherlock turned away, causing John and Emily to share a confused look just as Mrs Hudson re-entered the living room, newspaper in hand.
"What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same." Emily frowned. She still didn't know what he did for a living.
"Four." He informed the old lady as he moved closer to the window. "There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time." He spun round to face the doorway as the sound of footsteps became louder from the stairway.
"A fourth?" Mrs Hudson asked.
"Where?" He asked the man who had just walked through the doorway. Emily sat on the arm of John's chair.
"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." The newcomer replied.
"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different." He spoke so fast, Emily had a hard time keeping up with him.
"You know how they never leave notes?" Emily vaguely remembered the article about the suicide on yesterdays paper. "This one did. Will you come?" Sherlock paused a moment as if in thought.
"Who's on forensics?"
"It's Anderson." His reply caused Sherlock to grimace.
"Anderson won't work with me." He murmured to the older man.
"Well, he won't be your assistant."
"I need an assistant."
"Will you come?" The older man repeated the question, sounding urgent.
"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind."
"Thank you." By the way he bowed slightly, Emily could tell that a weight had already been lifted from the mans shoulders, even if he was still no closer to solving the mystery. He turned look at the other three briefly before he set off down the stairs again, nodding to them as he went.
As the front door shut behind him, Sherlock broke out into a smile, jumping into the air as he shouted. "Brilliant!" He really did look like an excited child. "Yes! Ah, four serial suicides and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!" Emily took another look around the room. It really was a cosy room, and she was more than willing to move here without having to even glance at a bedroom. But she knew there had to be a catch somewhere. It was too good to be true. The place was perfect. But it meant she would be living under the same roof as someone who got excited about apparent suicides. She watched as he picked up his scarf and coat.
"Mrs Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food." He added as he started to put his coat on.
"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." She informed him.
"Something cold will do. John, Emily have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!"
"Look at him, dashing about! My husband was just the same." Emily smirked at the implication in her words."But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell. But you dear, you're more of a standing type aren't you?" She said looking at Emily. "I'll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg."
"I'll give you a hand." Emily said at the same time John shouted.
"Damn my leg!" Making both females jump. They looked at him in shock. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing ..." He told them as he banged the crutch against his leg.
"I understand, dear; I've got a hip. Emily dear don't worry. But it's just this once I'm not your housekeeper." She informed them as she began to walk away.
"Couple of biscuits too, if you've got 'em." John picked up and opened the paper as Emily got up from the arm of his chair and moved over to the other side of the fireplace to inspect the books.
"Not your housekeeper!" The older lady said as she leaned back into the kitchen to talk to him. There was a moment of silence as John spotted a picture of the man who had asked for Sherlock's help a moment ago and started to read the article. But he didn't get very far as the silence was broken.
"You're a doctor." Emily jumped, not expecting to hear the voice that was coming form the doorway. She turned to find Sherlock standing there watching them as he put his gloves on. "In fact you're an Army doctor."
"Yes." John replied standing up with the aid of his crutch as Sherlock entered the room again.
"Any good?"
"Very good." Emily had to smile at his arrogance.
"Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths." Sherlock was beginning to make his way over to John.
"Mmm, yes." John replied wondering where the conversation was heading.
"Bit of trouble too, I bet."
"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much." John's voice was quiet, Emily was having difficulty listening.
"Wanna see some more?"
"Oh God, yes." John didn't even have to think about it.
"What about you?" Sherlock asked turning his gaze on Emily. John too, turned to face her.
"What do you mean?" If this man had confused her before, it was nothing to how she felt now. Was he really asking her if she would rather stay here, or go with them to see a dead body? When she had no medical experience? It wasn't like she hadn't seen one before, but it wasn't like she saw them as often as John had during his Army days, and judging by the way he had got excited over the idea of a mystery, Sherlock had.
"I mean, would you rather stay here and kill off some brain cells in front of the television, or would you rather come with us?" He asked her now. She didn't look away from his eyes as she thought about it for five seconds.
"Where's the remote?" She asked now looking around the room. But someone had grabbed her wrist.
"You're coming." There really was no room for an argument as she was already being dragged down the stairs by the tall man. She snatched her wrist back as soon as they reached the hallway. She would have ran back up the stairs if it hadn't ben for the fact that she could hear John getting closer to them as he shouted to Mrs Hudson.
"Sorry, Mrs Hudson, we'll skip the tea. Off out."
"All three of you?" The landlady asked standing at the bottom of the stairs. Emily would have slammed into Sherlock as he turned back round if he hadn't grabbed her forearms and gently moved her to the side so he could walk back over to Mrs Hudson.
"Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Emily couldn't help the soft smile that appeared on her face as Sherlock took the older woman by her shoulders and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek.
"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent." But the older lady couldn't help but smile either as Sherlock walked towards the front door again, grabbing Emily's wrist again on his way as if he didn't trust her to follow.
"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" He pulled Emily along behind him as he went, and didn't let go until the door had shut behind the three of them.
"Taxi!" He shouted to the first approaching cab he could find. It stopped straight away and he let himself into it without hesitation.
Emily turned to John as soon as the dark haired man had sat down. "I don't understand why I have to go."
"Just get in the cab Em." He told her gently. She complied, but only because she didn't want to keep the taxi driver waiting.
Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket as Emily sat down next to him. She shot him an irritated glare that he ignored as John got in beside her. Without a moment to lose, Sherlock, without looking up from the screen of his phone, informed the driver where they were headed.
Believe In Sherlock
FB