Can you imagine to my utter delight logging into my emails and finding new followers and reviews? Then can you imagine my horror at not remembering uploading a new chapter. Then can you imagine my shock at reading what it was I apparently did upload? I don't actually remember writing that last chapter, but looking at the date it was put up I think I know what happened. I had an awful case of the flu. The whole time if I wasn't sleeping or thinking I was actually dying I was worrying about everything in life. Including needing to update my stories. So, I can only apologise for the mess that is chapter 39. You probably think that's just some lame excuse. It's really not. Flu is awful people. I hope none of you guys had it.
Sorry for any mistakes. I don't own Sherlock. Only Emily and the ever growing ideas I have for her.
It didn't take very long for things to go back to normal. Or as normal as things could go in 221B. Emily hadn't thought it had been possible to hate work anymore than she already had but an appearance of Mr Roid on his day off getting a little too close for her liking had bothered her more than it should have. John enjoyed his work at the Doctors, though Emily wasn't sure if it was because of the work or Sarah. And Sherlock was as annoying as ever with his violin, and the ability to seemingly read her mind.
She had just finished a shift that hadn't been particularly enjoyable, courtesy of a couple of the new nurses.
The hospital had recently hired a handful of new staff throughout the building and as the filing clerk on duty that day it had been up to Emily to file their paperwork away in the correct procedures. One or two of them had managed to hand them in to their bosses on time, the bosses bringing the work to Emily so she wouldn't have to rush things for their first day. But all the others had run in a panic to her office to hand her the work. She considered them lucky that they all had a late start and that she was actually there in the first place. Most of them had handed the work to her without so much as a hello, one hadn't even bothered to look at her as he handed the pages over and she had made a mental note to do exactly the same thing to him should she ever need to interact with the fellow. But there had been two that had taken one look at her in her tiny office, messy with all the catching up she had to do, her blouse stained ever so slightly with tea from where she had jumped at a door banging shut just down the corridor, and had smirked at her, had spoken louder than normal so she could hear their snarky remarks on their way out.
It had also been the one day when Emily had braved the staff canteen. Mike had been off and Molly was no where in sight but she thought she might give it a go just in case. She had longed for some decent company and hot food but couldn't face the rain outside. They had spotted her immediately and began laughing and cracking jokes about her. She had made sure they saw her roll her eyes as she left the canteen, cheese toastie, chocolate bar and a bottle of fanta tight in her grip. She had promised herself that she would not let them affect her, but when she arrived back to her little office the sadness that overwhelmed her was enough to make her lose her appetite. It had just felt like Timothy all over again, and she didn't think she could stand another Timothy, let alone two.
It was their fault that she had then thought of nothing else all day. Timothy, who had made her life so miserable when she should have been making friends and not had a care in the world. When her biggest problem should have been that she couldn't solve her math homework when instead she was always thinking of ways to avoid her personal bully.
Maybe that was why all she had done when she had arrived home was take her shoes and jacket off, not even bothering to acknowledge Sherlock who she doubted had noticed her anyway, and all but ran to her room, slamming the door behind her and rummaging beneath her bed for the shoe box.
She had emptied the box onto the floor around her so she was now surrounded by newspaper clippings, notes, drawings, the book written by his mother.
But it was not these things that she wanted to see. The thing that she was looking for had stuck in the bottom of the shoe box. Folded so tightly she was surprised she could find it at all.
With a slight shake to her fingers, she unfolded it and began to read, the words written in her brothers familiar handwriting soothing her instantly. A reminder that he had once been there for her, even if she had no idea where he was now.
'We,Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran and Emily Cooper, do solemly promise - '
But she froze in her tracks when she heard the slow ascent of footsteps on the staircase. It could not have been John home from work,he was going straight on a date with Sarah. It could not have been Mrs Hudson, her footsteps were lighter than that.
Quickly, she collected everything, scrunching the paper not caring that she thought she heard something tear and threw them in the shoebox and kicked it back under her bed. Grabbing a book from her bedside table, she opened it to the middle and tried to look relaxed.
"Emily?" Sherlock's voice sounded from the other side of her door with a gentle knock.
"Yes?" She replied.
"Can I come in?"
"You don't normally ask Sherlock." She attempted a sarcastic tone but it sounded more worried than anything. It was unlike Sherlock to ask to enter her room.
The door swung open to reveal the Consulting Detective; shoes, coat and scarf on as if he was ready for the great outdoors.
"What were you doing?" He questioned as he eyed the room searching for clues. She could only hope she had packed everything away.
"Reading." She turned her gaze back to her book wishing he would just leave .
"You haven't even got changed." He stated as if it should be obvious.
"There was a plot twist last night and I needed to know how they concluded it." She internally cringed at her lame excuse but continued to pretend to read.
"Upside down?" She huffed and managed to not throw the book across the room.
"Was there something you wanted or have you just come to interrupt my time of untwisting plots?"
"Yes actually there was." She chanced a look up at him to discover he was studying her face intently from the doorway. A blush rose to her cheeks and she quickly rushed to turn back to her book.
"Spit it out then." The anger she felt at his interruption had somewhat dissolved enough for her to not snap the question at him.
"I need to go away for a few days." He stepped into her room and stood in front of her bed. "Did you want to come with me?" She almost chocked on her own saliva.
"I'm sorry what?"
"I think you heard me Emily, I'm going away for a few days, got a case abroad that needs my presence. Did you want to come with me?"
"Where are you going?"
"Minsk, - "
"Minsk? What the bloody hell for?"
"I did just tell you." He sighed. "I've got a case that needs my presence."
"Don't you think that about everywhere though?"
"Well, everywhere would certainly be better off with my presence, perhaps the world would be less stupid, but the man is in prison, I can't exactly help him from here. Now did you want to come with me? You've got time off to take haven't you?"
"I've only just gone back to work from all that time off Sherlock!"
"Really? What was that for?"
"Oh I don't know." Her sarcasm was thick but she could not help herself. "How about from that time you involved me on a previous case of yours and I ended almost being killed by the circus but managed to get away with a bit of a concussion?"
"Was that recent?"
She sighed "The answer is no Sherlock. As much as I wouldn't mind going on an adventure with you I have an actual job."
"One that you hate."
"Well, yes but that's not the point."
"So what is your point?"
"My point is that I can't afford to live here if I don't go to this awful job that I hate. And I highly doubt I'm mentally capable of going back to live with my Mother. Some of us don't have it as easy as you Sherlock! When are you leaving anyway?" She had had rather enough of his presence for the moment and wanted nothing more than to be left alone.
"About five minutes."
"Have you packed everything you need?"
"Yes." He sat beside her on her bed. She tried not to sigh.
"Try not to miss me too much won't you Emily?" She stopped breathing for a moment. His tone had turned somewhat husky and for some reason Emily no longer wanted to be alone. She wanted him to stay there, with her. Or better yet, insist on her travelling with him, her job and need for money be damned.
"Only if you try not to miss me." She did not know where those words had come from, but she turned to face him with a smirk, she even winked and she was sure he moved closer to her.
He opened his mouth to speak but a blaring horn of what she presumed to be a taxi sounded from outside. Whatever had been about to be spoken or done would have to wait, and Emily felt a tinge of something stir inside her.
He stood, straightening his coat and moved to the door. "I'll see you when I get back. Maybe then you could tell me what it was you were so keen to hide from me."
Hoping the worry would not seep into her voice she replied. "Be sure to send me a postcard." But instead of an answer, all she got was her door gently closing behind him.
She sat up, placing her book back where she had grabbed it from and began to change, wondering what she and John could do while their flatmate was away. Get a full nights sleep probably, she thought to herself.
As she heard the taxi drive away, the tinge of something that she felt stir, suddenly overtook her. And with a sigh, she recognised what the feeling was.
She had felt the same when she was young and wanted a friendship like her brother had with Jim.
She had felt the same way when she saw the girls in her year being noticed by the boys.
She had felt the same way when Seb had disappeared from her life.
The feeling was longing.
But why she felt it now, she was not sure.
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