A longer chapter for you lovely loyal people. Read my AN at the bottom. With further ado, Two meetings and an encounter. Enjoy!
A bell-like chime echoed through the flat just as Zoe finished setting the table. The mahogany wood had been wiped clean and three lavender placemats had been set out. She almost bought fresh flowers to go as a centerpiece but decided that would be a bit much. She wasn't a perfectionist by any means, but her mother had taught her to make it clear that effort had been made when guests were coming over. She laughed internally as she pictured Sherlock's flat when he had clients over. The man didn't lift a finger and she was certain that if it weren't for Mrs. Hudson, he'd be forcing clients to climb over stacks of case files and experiments.
"If your house looks the same as it always does when you have guests over, you're not hosting people the right way." That's what her mother said. Ava Howard's soiree-throwing habits were the exact reason Zoe made sure the warm but sometimes overbearing woman never found out about Pinterest. Her inbox would be full of party decor ideas and recipes and she wouldn't be able to find the important stuff.
Zoe looked up from the table towards Sherlock who sat on the light gray couch near the door. She expected to meet his intelligent gaze; him already knowing what she wanted of him without a verbal request. He did that quite often. So, she was a bit taken aback to find him with his hands steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed, mind wandering inside his self-made palace.
They had been conversing not even five minutes ago. He can be here one moment and in another world the next, she thought with a soft smile.
"Can you make sure that it's Nat and buzz her up?" she asked. She waited a moment to see if he would react.
Like a cat on the prowl, he got up without a sound and pressed the intercom panel on the wall. The screen lit up and showed a live video feed of the front entryway. "If you are not Natalia Rowen, go away," he said.
A laugh bubbled out of Zoe's throat at his unexpected method. He looked over his shoulder at her and shrugged with a half grin.
"Your voice is really deep...sorry, I mean hi," the woman said looking up into the camera. Her auburn hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a low ponytail.
Zoe's laughter continued as Sherlock buzzed her friend in. "Oh gosh, this is going to be so fun," she said in a sing-song voice. She went to go into the kitchen but quickly turned back to him. "Reminder-"
"Yes, I know. Don't deduce her even if she asks me to," he said. He huffed and leaned back onto the arm of the couch. With his arms crossed over his chest, the navy blue dress shirt he wore pulled taut around his arms and Zoe appreciated the view. His black slacks were without wrinkle as usual.
His sharpness of dress was something Zoe was slightly jealous of on days when she felt like just wearing sweatpants. He made it look effortless. Early on in their relationship, it had made her feel awkward, her in sweats and him showing up dressed as if he had an important business meeting to attend. Although she wanted today to be a laid-back sort of event, she put a little effort into her look even though she had spent most of her day writing in her home office. Natalia was coming from a weekend client event, so she would be in business casual at least. Zoe couldn't be the only one in leggings and a t-shirt so she donned a pair of light-washed jeans that were rolled up around her ankles and an emerald off-shoulder blouse.
"Sherlock," She pleaded, leaning against the entryway.
"I won't deduce her...unless, of course, any of her secrets are harmful to you," he said. She sighed but nodded in understanding. "My only hope is that she isn't boring," Sherlock murmured to himself.
Zoe heard him and shot a glare before she turned and went into the kitchen as the oven's timer beeped, letting her know that the salmon was done. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Zoe flew from the kitchen to the front door, much to Sherlock's amusement.
"Hi," she said brightly and a little breathlessly as she opened the door. I need to start working out again, she thought to herself.
Natalia chuckled. "Hey, Zo. Did I show up at a bad time?" she said with a mischevious grin before pulling her shorter friend into a hug.
When they pulled back, Zoe rolled her eyes. "No. Just in a good mood," she explained.
From his angle, Sherlock could tell that Natalia had tugged on her hair due to stress several times throughout the day due to stress at her work event. He silently scanned her but shared none of it aloud. Nothing about the pale woman was concerning.
Zoe pulled back completely from her friend and turned towards him. "Natalia, this is Sherlock. Sherlock, this is my oldest friend, Natalia," she said.
Natalia gave him a small smile. "Hello, Sherlock. Nice to finally meet you," she said. Her smile turned mischevious. "I'm keen on embarrassing Zo with all kinds of stories tonight," she continued.
Sherlock smirked. "I picked up on that when you walked in. It's also unsurprising given the stories she has shared with me about you," he said. Zoe grinned at the pair and took Natalia's blazer to hang up in the front closet. "How about we focus on food first before we share embarrassing stories," she said.
Natalia looked at Sherlock and shrugged before making her way to the table. "I think I can manage to get through a meal without telling him about all your epic fails," she teased.
Zoe playfully huffed and followed. "You're such a good friend. Really, I appreciate it," she said.
Natalia was nursing a glass of wine as she finished off a slice of red velvet cake after dinner. Sherlock deduced that while she was trying to be relaxed she also didn't want to get drunk and embarrass herself. She was intimidated by him but also examined his every interaction with her friend. While others may have found it annoying, Sherlock appreciated knowing Zoe had someone looking out for her with her sister overseas and her parents living in Scotland after leaving London to enjoy their retirement.
"So, you're very much into science, correct?" Natalia asked.
He nodded. "Did Zoe ever tell you about the time in secondary school when a lab assignment went so wrong that she almost burned down the school?" she continued, her smile widening as she spoke.
"Oh gosh!" Zoe moaned putting her face into her hands. "That was a terrible day," she said, her voice now muffled.
Sherlock couldn't help but grin as Natalia continued. "She put her notes too close to the bunsen burner and the entire desk went up in flames. She wasn't allowed to touch anything for the remainder of the semester," she said.
He smirked as he pictured a younger Zoe frantically throwing water onto her school desk. "Remind me not to ask you to assist on any of my experiments," Sherlock said looking at Zoe.
"I don't think I'd want to get involved with any of that. John mentioned something about thumbs the other day," she replied, visibly shivering.
"Still eating here," Natalia said gesturing to her last bite of cake.
While she would rather not have her adolescent mishaps be the center of attention, Zoe couldn't help but enjoy the fact that Sherlock and Natalia were getting along well enough.
"Oh, you've got to hear the story about the first time we got on the London Eye," Natalia said.
Sherlock leaned forward, interesting in hearing how someone who hated heights as much as Zoe did could ever be persuaded into riding the attraction. He also enjoyed the way Natalia told her stories with flourishes of her arms and a very expressive face. And that's how the night progressed, stories being told back and forth, some at Zoe's expense, others with Sherlock recounting one of his cases and John's failure to capture the full story on his blog. At one point, Natalia had stared him down. He realized that she knew better than to threaten him if he hurt her friend, but her look showed how far she would go to protect her friend if he did something down the line.
At the end of the evening, Natalia let Zoe walk her to her car and gave her approval of her beau.
Saturday next, Zoe handed Sherlock her overnight bag before climbing into the taxi. She gave a 'good morning' to their driver, a man who appeared to be in his 30s. He gave her a nervous smile and she immediately knew that he was aware of who the pair getting into his taxi were.
Sherlock placed the bag in the trunk before getting in himself. Once the door was closed, he turned and eyed her. Her fingers were tapping her leg and she had already crossed and uncrossed her legs twice.
"Ready for this weekend? Excited?" she said. He cringed. Her voice was an octave higher than it usually was. "What?" she asked, her brows furrowing at his reaction.
"You've had caffeine this morning. You usually avoid it on weekends," he said.
"Well hello to you too," she huffed sitting back as the cabbie took off down Baker Street. "I needed the extra kick to get going this morning. I stayed up a bit late packing," she explained.
"And then repacking," he added lowly.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you really surprised? I'm meeting your parents for the first time," she said. She kept her voice low, sneaking a peek at their driver. She didn't really want a recap of their conversation to be trending on Twitter later. She was glad the man had the radio on. "Even when I actually laid down it took me a while to fall asleep," she said lowering her voice.
Sherlock had seen her look and rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about him. He won't be sharing anyone's business. The music works in our favor, especially because he messed up his hearing playing with fireworks as an adolescent," he said in one breath. Before she could comment, he continued. "You've met Lady Smallwood and major media figures," he tried to reason.
"I just want things to go well. People I talk to for interviews aren't there to get to know me personally most of the time. I'm there to tell their stories not for them to know mine. Those connections aren't always long term," she said looking out of the window as the city rushed by. Sherlock had the urge to reach out and hold her hand but didn't as his body seemed to freeze. She didn't continue but he understood what she wasn't saying.
A relationship with his parents would be long-term if their relationship was long-term. As if just realizing it, Sherlock's brain clicked into place with what his heart had been telling him for a while now. This wasn't just any relationship, like the ones John used to involve himself in. What he had with Zoe was something more than that, requiring more effort, more emotion. He could hear Mycroft's comments on sentiment and emotions echoing in his head. But, instead of telling her that he was nervous too, not only about her meeting his parents but the implications of that meeting, he lost control of his mouth for a moment. A moment he was deeply frustrated with himself for giving up. "Are you sure you don't have any writing to get done this weekend or some event you're forgetting?" he blurted.
Slowly, she turned to look at him. Her brown eyes narrowed. "I cleared my entire weekend for this." She continued to stare at him before her head tilted, waiting for him to say something. Sherlock broke eye contact as realization formed in her eyes.
"You're trying to get me to change my mind and cancel, aren't you?" she asked crossing her arms.
"No, of course not," he said raising his hands in a position that looked like a surrender. Wary of losing control of his mouth again, he stayed silent for the rest of the ride.
After a short train ride, a rented SUV was waiting for them courtesy of Mycroft. Sherlock grumbled knowing it was his brother's way of giving him no excuse. He didn't doubt he brother had even put a listening device in the car. They were given the key and then they were on the road through the countryside. His fumble earlier had resulted in the detective being stuck in the car with a grumpy girlfriend and her Spotify playlist that jumped from Top 40 to classical, to theatrical soundtrack music. She had decided to quietly sing along to anything with lyrics and ignore him, her eyes locked on the passing scenery of trees, grass, and homes.
He knew that in her mind he was seemingly second-guessing their relationship. She was no stranger to his aversion to romance and she was probably fearing that he had finally woken up to the reality of how serious things were getting between them. It also didn't help that her father hadn't taken the news of their relationship well and had called earlier that week to let his opinion be known. In the man's eyes, Sherlock's lifestyle meant nothing but danger for his youngest. She hadn't relayed the entire conversation, simply suggested they give her father time to come to terms with his place in her life. Her mother was excited about meeting him eventually and had reprimanded her husband who wouldn't budge.
There was no second guessing on Sherlock's part, just making his brain came to terms with what his heart and emotions already knew. His eyes flickered down to the dashboard panel. He had estimated when they got the car that they would have enough fuel to get to his parents' house, but that didn't seem to be the case as the gauge was already under a fourth of a tank. Whatever idiot had filled up the car previously used low-quality petrol. He wasn't pleased about having to stop in the small town an hour or so from his parents' home. Growing up, they had never really done any business in this area with good reason.
With a sigh, he pulled into the town's only petrol station and cut the engine. In the corner of his eye, he saw her perk up in her seat, pleased that they were stopping. Tired of sitting and wants a snack. Preferably chocolate or those Twizzler things.
"Please, stay in the car. This shouldn't take long," he said despite knowing his directive would annoy her despite his use of 'please'.
Before Zoe could respond, his seat belt was off and he was outside looking at the options at the pump. Her butt was starting to fall asleep and she really wanted to see if they had some crisps or some kind of snack inside. 'Maybe they have Twizzlers', she thought to herself. After a minute or so, she decided it shouldn't really be a big deal. She wasn't familiar with the town they were in, but if they had stopped here, it had to be at least decently safe.
At the sound of the car door opening, Sherlock looked away from another woman at a nearby pump.
"I'm going to grab a snack and stretch my legs," she said coming around the back of the truck. "Would you like anything?" she asked with a hand on her hip, as if challenging him to force her back into the four by four.
"No, but be quick," he said flatly.
She frowned at his tone but walked away without saying anything. Sherlock sighed deeply.
As she approached the shop, a blonde-haired man sauntered out of the exit. His complexion reminded her of Sherlock's pale winter look. She gave him a polite smile and in return, he sneered at her, not even attempting to hide his unhappy expression. Instead of holding the door for her, he carried on, letting the door swing closed. She turned sharply and watched the man walk away, her mouth agape. He approached the woman that Sherlock had been staring at. When she closed her mouth, a frown quickly settled onto her face. Was she surprised at the man's action? No. As a woman of color, she had sat in meetings and combated microaggressions in the form of comments about her hair and how nice it was to see someone like her producing such great work. Her sister, Zara, had often shared her experiences while living in America. Zoe had seen the stories on the news herself and figured herself blessed that she didn't often interact with blatantly prejudice people on a regular basis.
As the man prepared to climb into his truck, all of the nerves from meeting Sherlock's parents, her lingering irritation about his move this morning, her father's negativity, and the annoyance of an empty stomach seemed to bubble up. Her hands were balled into fist at her side. She was so focused on the man that she didn't notice Sherlock approaching her.
"His wife is leaving him soon and he'll lose his job by the end of the week," he said. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before stepping back and looking up at him. "That's why you were staring at her?" she asked.
"No, she was nervous after she saw us pull in. Knows her husband is vile and didn't want him to cause a scene. I was reading her to figure out how on guard I should be. Not the best track record in this area. It's why I told you to stay in the car," he said.
"And the job?" she asked keeping her eyes locked on his to avoid catching sight of the blonde man and losing her cool completely.
"T-shirt has the logo of a factory I'm familiar with. Helped out the owner when I was home on break back in Uni. His grandfather is from Cameroon and I'm sure he'd be pleased to know about his employee's views," he said with a smirk.
Zoe took another deep breath and turned to go inside. "I hope your mother has wine," she said before heading into the store.
When they finally reached their destination, Sherlock didn't immediately get out of the SUV. Zoe, now worried that his early hesitance about today's plan had returned, called his name like a someone carefully approaching a nervous animal. He turned towards her with a determined look in his eye.
"You know I'm not extraordinary when it comes to words or emotions. Better than what I once was, but still adjusting and learning," he said. She angled herself in her seat so she was fully facing him.
"Before we go inside, I want you to know that I'm not hesitant about you. I have nothing to reconsider and no second-guessing to do. Earlier, when you mentioned long-term relationships, my brain froze as if it hadn't realized what I had gotten myself involved in until that moment. My heart made a decision and my brain is apparently still trying to catch up," he continued.
When her silence became too much, he spoke again. "Does that make sense?" he asked. She opened her mouth to speak twice before she could actually get the words out. "If it was anybody else, no. But because you're you, I will say yes," she said. Letting the situation marinade, she shook her head before giving a small smile.
"Right...well good," he said. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "I would kiss you but I'm sure my mother is spying on us from behind the curtains of the front window."
Zoe whipped around to see if she could catch the Holmes matriarch but didn't see any movement from the home. "She's crafty, my mother," Sherlock murmured with a smirk before getting out of the car.
According to John, Sherlock's parents were nice and she had nothing to be afraid of. That knowledge helped until he had mumbled that even if they didn't like her, they wouldn't be as brash as their sons and say that to her face. Sherlock had sent his friend one of the fiercest glares she had ever seen.
Walking up the brick pathway to their cottage home, Zoe tried to calm herself. You can do this. You've done the whole meet the parents before. Nobody could be worse than that tosser's mother.
As Sherlock raised a hand to knock on the door, she let her gaze wander to the exterior of the home. It was well kept with blooming flowers still colorful and holding on despite the recent heat wave. There was a tree on the side of the home with a bench underneath. She could imagine the retired couple enjoying the shade together. Zoe's focus was grabbed when Sherlock had barely touched the door before it swung open. Before he could get a word out, he was pulled into the arms of a silver-haired woman. He grumbled and tried to shake himself loose, but it was no use. His mother had gotten a hold of him. Zoe smiled at the warmth the woman exuded.
When the older woman pulled back, the first thing Zoe noticed was her prominent cheekbones. No one could deny the familial resemblance, especially not when she peeked around her son and locked eyes on her. Blue-green eyes that held wisdom and intelligence, accompanied by more warmth than the ones she was used to seeing. Sherlock wasn't always cold with her, but he certainly didn't express his emotions as visibly as his mother.
With a gentle hand, she moved her son to the side and stepped towards his companion. "Hello, dear. I'm Violet Holmes," she said pulling the young woman into a hug. Her vanilla scent was pleasant and reminded Zoe of her own mother.
"Oh, Sherlock. I'm so glad you've found someone. Well, more like you've finally brought someone home. Who knows what you were up to in Uni," Violet said.
Sherlock scoffed. "That's for me to know and me alone. And I believe the correct phrasing would be that I've been forced to bring someone home. I'd be more than pleased to avoid this whole thing," he said.
"Lucky for me, we're here and your mother and I can be cliche and discuss all the adorable moments of your childhood and teenage years," Zoe said grinning at him.
Sherlock groaned. "Please don't."
I know. I've been gone for a long while. I'm alive. The first part of this year was a big transition. I moved away from home to a new state and started graduate school for advertising copywriting. I put this story on the back burner because from day one we've been buried in assignments on top of the work I'm doing for an internship. Creative post-grad programs are no joke. Sorry, it took me so long to get this up.
Thank you to everyone who's followed and favorited this story and it's prequel while I've been away. I couldn't find any mention of exactly how far away Sherlock's parents live, so I improvised. Also, it hasn't been significant to the plot thus far because I wasn't sure if I wanted to dive that deep or if it would make people uncomfortable, but Zoe's experience at the gas station is similar to one I had as a teenager. Interracial couples still get flack and racism and prejudice exist all around the world both in minor instances and in deep-rooted, nasty ways. Zoe is a woman of color and I didn't want to ignore that, especially as a WOC myself.
I'm working on the next chapters when I can. Hopefully, they'll be up soon. Until then, see you in the reviews!
-K
