A/N: And here you go!
5
New Experiment
John woke up to his alarm clock blaring. He groaned and rolled out of bed, hastily pulling on a pair of trousers and switching his t-shirt for an undershirt and jumper. Running a hand through his hair, he walked into the kitchen to find Natsumi already at the stove, cooking. The table was cleared and set, and the appetizing smell of eggs and sausage filled the room.
Without turning around, Natsumi said, "You know your flatmate has human eyeballs in the fridge, right?"
John sighed. "Back at his experiments already, huh? No, I wasn't aware, but I'm used to it. A few years back there was a severed head." He surveyed the kitchen with admiration. "You cleaned up well."
"Didn't dispose of anything- a lot of your cupboards are empty, so I put all the equipment in there."
John gave a small laugh. "How much was there?"
"The whole table was covered. It was ridiculous."
John shook his head. "Already making himself at home again."
"You say it like he was gone."
"He was. Three years. Everyone thought he was dead."
Natsumi turned around at this and tilted her head slightly, almost reminiscent to Sherlock's expression last night when he overheard her conversation with her mother. That's right, he realized. I have to be on my guard. We know something's up with this girl.
"Oh?" she said, her voice filled with curiosity.
"Long story," John muttered.
Natsumi sighed. "You can tell me, you know. I've seen and lived through a lot of strange things."
"Oh, we can tell," another voice said, and Sherlock came into the kitchen, still in his pants and robe. He looked around. "Where's my equipment?"
"Cupboard," Natsumi said, before freezing. "What do you mean, you can tell?"
John instantly braced himself for an analysis.
Sherlock smirked. "I know you're an athlete who plays multiple sports, judging by the calluses on both hands and how you carry yourself. You have a brother you're very close to, could be just by nature, but it's also possible you lived apart when you were young. Your father is absent from your life but not dead, and most likely no divorce either- there would be more resentment. You manage most of the housework, but share it with someone else- I'm guessing your brother. You're ambidextrous but more commonly use your right hand. You're used to being on your guard, but it's become a part of life so you've loosened up a bit. You're forcing your politeness a bit, possibly because you're uncomfortable with the situation, more likely because you're naturally temperamental. You're a good student but don't often write in your free time- there would be graphite stains on the side of your hand or, if you typed on the computer, your fingers would lay slightly curved. You also live with more people than just your mother and brother- maybe having to do with these 'Keronians'."
Natsumi gaped. "That's amaz-" Then she stiffened. "How do you know about the Keronians?"
John ducked his head sheepishly. "We sort of… listened to your conversation with your mum last night."
Natsumi sucked in a deep breath, looking like she was about to punch him. "Tōchō surunode shitsurei," she muttered, before straightening up. "I feel no obligation to tell you about my private life when I know next to nothing about you. Perhaps when I get to know you better." She glanced into the next room, and then a small grin came over her face. "Tell you what. I'll clear some things up for you if I can come see the crime scene."
"What crime scene?" John asked, as a small grin came over Sherlock's face. "Nobody's examining at Her Majesty's Theater since the member of Moriarty's long gone by-"
"Newspaper on the desk. There's an article about a break-in at the National Gallery that's been highlighted and partially cut out. Someone clearly showed interest."
Sherlock's smile grew wider. "Deal."
As Natsumi turned back to her cooking, John pulled Sherlock to the side. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "I thought we couldn't trust this girl!"
"Exactly. Taking her with us will allow us to keep an eye on her. Besides, did you see how she made that analysis? Mediocre, granted- anyone could have seen that eventually-"
John rolled his eyes.
"But she made that interpretation in a split second. Her observational skills show promise."
John stared. "You can't possibly be thinking about training her in-"
"That's exactly what I'm thinking. Think of this as a new experiment."
Ten minutes later, breakfast was on the table. John sat down, mouth watering. Natsumi clearly had some good cooking experience, and everything smelled delicious.
"Aren't you going to eat, Sherlock?" Natsumi asked as she pulled her chair closer to the table.
"No," Sherlock said simply.
"He doesn't eat while he's on a case," John groaned.
Natsumi's eyes narrowed, and she slid back from the table and stood up. "Look here," she said, "I went to a lot of trouble to cook breakfast and it's going to get cold. Besides, you're going to need energy. So shut up, sit down, and eat your eggs."
Sherlock considered her for a moment, then slowly walked to the table and pulled up a chair as Natsumi slammed a plate full of eggs, sausage, and toast in front of him.
John blinked rapidly. He couldn't get Sherlock to eat during a case even after years of persuading, and Natsumi managed to accomplish it in three sentences. He suppressed a laugh as he picked up a piece of toast and spread jam on it. "Annoyed much, Sherlock?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Obviously."