Three Patch Problem

Elaina tried to ask Sherlock what they were doing in the back of a cab but quickly gave up as the man turned his icy blue eyes on her and glared. Elaina glared back. So far she detested this man. He was so arrogant and stuck up. She was still at a loss as to why she had agreed to come with him. She could only assume her services were needed. She stewed in silence until it became deafening and she was feeling rather uncomfortable. Drawing out her phone to look something up a large cold hand grasped her wrist. Her heart sped up as she shoved his hand off of hers.

"Your typing would disturb me." He explained.

'Oh yes sure. You grabbing me and dragging me into a cab so we can go tramping across London wasn't disturbing me at all." She accused, sarcasm lining her voice.

"Good." Sherlock said. Elaina barked out a laugh. "What?" Sherlock asked obviously not knowing why Elaina was laughing.

"I was being sarcastic." Elaina clarified.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Five minutes later he pulled over the cab. Elaina jumped out of the cab and Sherlock made to leave as well the cabby turned around and grabbed his coat.

"You two having a row? Well don't let her get away. She's a pretty girl. And a sense of humour is never bad." The cabby said in a strong Scottish accent.

"What? We're not- She's not." Sherlock gave up and exited the cab. He supposed the girl was rather pretty. With long black hair, light green-grey eyes, and a rather curvy figure he could understand why Anderson was looking at her but he viewed her as simply another human. Sure she was pretty but it didn't mean anything. He relied more on intelligence and skills but so far the girl had demonstrated very little of either. Sherlock realized he didn't even know her name.

"Excuse me but I didn't catch your name." Sherlock said, his voice overflowing with fake politeness.

"Elaina Robinson." She answered in a vague, distant voice. Sherlock frowned. Usually his polite voice had girls falling over themselves to get close to him. He knew he was good looking and he could use it to his advantage. Sherlock also knew that if he and this girl were to work together they would need to be on a slightly friendly basis but one of the few areas of expertise was lacking in was friendship.

"Look I get the impression that you don't want to work with me."

"Go figure. Did it take your genius brain to work that one out?"

Sherlock was puzzled as to why she was being so cold to him. He tried to connect the dots but they had no numbers and her had no ruler to connect them with. The mystery of women was also a puzzle to him. Elaina had seemed to tolerate him when she was grilling Donovan but know she wouldn't even look at him.

"Ok. Um… My name is Sherlock Holmes and I live in 221B Baker Street."

Elaina jerked at the sound of his last name. Sherlock noted her reaction. She knew his brother then.

"Elaina Robison. Currently residing at Calford Road." The indifference bled out of her words.

"When you say currently…"

"Well I had a good job but I probably won't have one after tonight because you let it slip that I'm an ex-assassin."

"Really? I thought it's rather… cool for the lack of a better word."

"Yes well not everyone is a psychopath." Elaina felt her mask of vagueness slide a bit.

"I'm not a psychopath. I prefer the term high-functioning-sociopath." Sherlock said as he noticed the effect his humour was having.

Elaina fought to rearrange her mask but instead burst out in laughter. Sherlock recoiled at her reaction. What he had said wasn't to terribly funny. Not to him anyway.

"What am I doing here?" She asked.

"The suitcase. He had to dispose of it somewhere within a five-mile radius if he was smart."

"You just blindly assume the killer was a man?"

"It's obvious, right?"

"Yes but I wanted to make sure you knew."

Elaina watched as Sherlock made for a roof but Elaina grabbed his coat.

"Don't go up there. This man is old. He wouldn't climb a roof. We need to check the ground."

After an hour of searching they located the case which was, as predicted, bright pink. Hailing another cab, the pair drove back to Sherlock's flat. Elaina's mask of indifference was back. Sherlock had been the one to try and start a conversation but Elaina had worn the same expression Sherlock wore when he was in his Mind Palace. Her elegant hands were in a praying position under her chin. Sherlock made the best of the silence, examining every inch of Elaina. Her chipped mint nail polish had been done the morning but because it was chipped it meant she had left her flat in a rush. Other than that, Sherlock fond no other clues about Elaina's everyday life. This girl was a mystery and one Sherlock wasn't high enough to deal with.

Upon arriving at 221B Elaina had been smothered by a warm set of arms by the name of Hudson. She had spent the returning cab ride in her Mind Library. It was a memory technique introduced to her by Mycroft Holmes. It was under his authority that she had worked as an assassin, finally managing to go to America to kill an inconsequential man but instead of returning to London she had remained in American until Mycroft had come after her, urging her to return to Britain. While she was in her Mind Library she had revisited her past. Sherlock reminded her of somebody she couldn't put her finger on.

Making her way up the stairs to the flat she had stumbled, the day's exhaustion and then running around London with Sherlock and the sleepless night from before had finally caught up with her. Staggering up the steps she had collapsed into a red overstuffed armchair. Straining to keep her eyes open proved to be fruitless and the last thing she saw was Sherlock reaching for Nicotine packages.

Sherlock calmly observed the now motionless figure in John's armchair. His mind was in a whirlwind. He understood that it would be socially acceptable to carry her to a bed but her noticed what a light sleeper she was. There was no way that he could move her without Elaina waking. And he knew once he woke her there was no way she would fall back asleep. He decided to leave her there.

Sherlock grabbed his Nicotine patches and laid on the couch. He applied one patch for the case then grabbed one more for Elaina. For a second he considered his predicament and applied one more patch for Elaina.