Okay my sweets, this is your last freebie. I will expect at least one review before my next update. I can wait...
The week passed with three more boxes from Mycroft containing mostly clothes, including a shirt too large for her in the same purple as Sherlock's, and a coat; it was black with a double row of sliver buttons down the front, Madeline found a new pocket in it every time she wore it.
Sherlock thoroughly searched each box before giving them to Madeline, a fact that she protested loudly and at length and at volume and quite often after Sherlock had woken her in the night for his Question Sessions, much to dismay of John, who had recently taken on more hours at the clinic.
The questions he fired at her in the dark, after shaking her awake violently, were repetitive.
"Where are you, right now?"
"Mrs. Hudson's spare room at 221b Baker Street, halfway to the land of Nod."
"What is your name?"
"Dunno, that's what I hired you to find out."
"Who is Munchkin to you?"
"Ha! You said it! I knew you wouldn't be able to not!"
He glared.
"Munchkin is my beautiful, fluffy, dead-to-the-world asleep, guardian."
"And where were you born?"
"Another question I cannot answer, and you are supposed to be finding out."
She was the uncaring recipient of another glare.
"This is not going to be of any help if you aren't going to take it seriously."
Madeline rolled over and pulled the covers over her head.
"I would take it more seriously if I were awake enough to care."
Sherlock pulled her back over and yanked the covers from her face. He had turned the light on and Madeline was sure she would go blind.
"You should care." He hissed, his face so close she could smell the cigarette smoke on his breathe. He must've sneaked it after John and Madeline had gone to bed. John had a real problem with Sherlock smoking.
"I do, just it's kind of hard at," She squinted at the alarm clock that had come in one of her packages.
"Three twenty seven! In the morning! Ohmigod. You know what? I'm not even surprised any more. I made friends with the head in the fridge, I deal with the mess you leave where ever you go, I've stayed in this house for six and a half days and catered to pretty much your every need, because your usual bitch is away working to pay the rent."
Sherlock had sat back and was regarding Madeline with an amused expression, like she was a child that'd thrown a fit over some sweets.
Madeline threw the covers off, a little more dramatically then necessary and stormed out of the room.
OoOoO
The morning after that row, after Madeline had crawled back into her bed, ignoring Sherlock still sitting at the end of her bed, after she had woken up again to find him gone from the building, after John had left for work, after Sherlock had returned without a word about where he'd been, looking sightly dishevelled, Madeline confronted him about the lack of real food in his flat.
"It's ridiculous. I don't know how John has let it go for this long, he's a doctor and should be seriously worried about malnutrition."
Sherlock ignored her. He always did whenever she talked about food or sleep or personal boundaries.
He stretched out over the couch in his usual thinking pose.
"I'm talking to you, you great big mushroom." She kicked the couch.
Sherlock continued to ignore her, his eyes closed tight.
Madeline clamped her hand over his mouth and pinched his nose, blocking off his airways effectively.
Sherlock did his best to ignore her, but when he started to go red his eyes flew open and he glared.
She hung on a bit longer but when he licked the palm of her hand she let go with a squeal.
"My wallet is in my coat. Go buy whatever you deem real food. I need to think."
Madeline borrowed John's laptop to use Google maps to find the nearest supermarket.
"That's password protected." Sherlock mentioned from the couch.
Madeline snorted. "Hardly."
OoOoO
Madeline made it to the Tesco that was only about a fifteen minute walk away, without getting lost. As she walked the aisles she chucked random things in to the trolley, without any kind of meal plan in mind. Mostly she chose things that even John could make. When she got to the aisle labelled 'baking needs', she found herself putting things she vaguely recognised in the trolley. Madeline decided to just go with it, maybe she knew how to bake, and if she didn't, she was sure Mrs. Hudson would appreciate some more supplies after baking almost every day since Madeline arrived.
Sherlock had mentioned it the day before.
"You've put on weight. About one point four pounds, I'd say."
John threw a book at the back of his head; Sherlock ducked.
"In a good way." He amended. "You don't look as pointy now."
She looked at the self checkouts. She noticed that three people were having trouble scanning items and one of those three was yelling abuse, much to amusement of the people in the queue. Madeline decided that she would rather deal with a person.
"Good morning." Chirped the teenager with a ring through her nose.
Madeline just smiled and went through Sherlock's wallet to find a way to pay the girl. There was all sorts of crap it there, from half a newspaper article pertaining to a homicide that was three years old according to the date at the bottom, to a half eaten piece of black licorice, which looked to be about the same age. She found a shiny silver card, the signature on the back not Sherlock's. She swiped it anyway, and signed the receipt with the same signature. She was quite good at it. Madeline decided she would tell Sherlock this when she got home, maybe it would help with his deductions.
"221b Baker street." She said as she got into the cab with her shopping.
The cabbie just nodded and pulled out. Five minutes later they pulled up outside the flat.
"Thank you" She said, and handed him money she had discovered hidden deep in the recesses of Sherlock's wallet, along with a bullet and some more half eaten licorice.
She struggled up the stairs and into Sherlock's flat and dumped the shopping on the kitchen table she had cleared off during a moment of extreme boredom. He had complained the entire time.
Sherlock swooped on the groceries before Madeline had a chance to unpack.
"Did you get any baking soda?" He asked, still rummaging.
Madeline found the bag it was in and handed it to him.
"What do you need it for?" She asked.
"Experiment."
"Don't use it all."
He flapped his hand at her as he measured out four table spoons and tipped the baking soda into a jar of eyeballs then screwed the lid on tight.
"So it turns out I'm good at forging signatures." She said conversationally.
He turned to her. "Explain."
Madeline pulled the shiny card from his wallet.
"Oh that's Mycroft's. I pick-pocket him when he's annoying, which is always. I'm surprised it cleared."
Madeline smirked. She continued to unpack, with Sherlock watching, working around dubious looking jars, bags and test tubes. At one point she had to ask, "This is blood isn't it?"
Sherlock nodded.
"Whose?"
"Mine, don't worry, I'm not positive for anything."
Madeline rolled her eyes. There was no point in explaining that most people didn't have blood in their refrigerators.
"I want to do some experiments." Sherlock said, after two minutes seven seconds of silence.
"Go ahead. You've never told me about your intentions before."
Sherlock sighed dramatically.
"No I mean, I wish to experiment on you. I've narrowed down my seven theories to four, and I think I can further eliminate possibilities. I mentioned it to John and he said I had to ask first."
He paused, waiting for her consent. She wasn't going to let him off that easy.
"And?" she asked.
"And what?"
"Are you going to ask?"
"I just did."
"No you said that John told you to ask. You didn't actually ask."
"Fine. Madeline, can I do some experiments on to you so I can further understand who you might be?"
"Please."
"What?" Sherlock looked confused.
"Madeline, can I please do some experiments on you so I can further understand who you might be." Madeline said, smiling innocently, eyes lit up with glee. Sherlock did not say please.
"Please." It was almost too quiet for Madeline to hear, but it was a victory nonetheless.
She split the chocolate bar she'd brought and gave him half.
"Okay I'll play. What are you planning?"
"Well, first you can do the baking you were planning on."
So Madeline did. She made chocolate chip biscuits, cinnamon muffins and brownies. She didn't mind Sherlock helping with the brownies, while she cleaned up. She was concentrating on scraping the muffin goo out of the bowl when he slipped a small block of hash into the batter and mixed it in thoroughly.
Experiment one. Sherlock thought.
OoOoO
John came home to find Sherlock and Madeline stretched out on the floor. They'd moved the table and piles of junk and were looking at the roof. They were having a very quiet discussion and eating what looked suspiciously like brownies? Sherlock was stroking Madeline's head that was rested on his stomach. John was surprised; Sherlock didn't like much human contact. He went into the kitchen to make tea, when he received another big shock. Well not really a shock, but there was a different type of explosion in there today. Instead of the normal, strange smelling and mostly sticky, it was nice-smelling and mostly powdery in nature. John didn't mind the change, in fact John preferred the change; He'd often envied the smells coming from Mrs Hudson's flat.
He went about his tea making, having to search for things like teabags because they'd been put away for some reason, slowly. He didn't really want intrude on the conversation Sherlock and Madeline were having. It was nice for Sherlock to have someone else that he could stand because things were getting serious with Mary and she wanted him to move in sometime soon. John dreaded bringing up the subject before Madeline, now he thought that maybe Sherlock would be okay without him.
I mean she even does shopping! I forget half the time, and Sherlock seems to eat by osmosis when he's on a case. Maybe Madeline will be better at this than me.
"John, come and join us. It's impolite to pretend we don't exist." Madeline called in a sing-songy tone. "Come and partake in these wondrous brownies Sherlock helped me make."
She hadn't lifted her head.
"Not the brownies John. You can have the biscuits or the muffins. The brownies are Experiment One." Sherlock sat up and Madeline's head fell into his lap, she readjusted so she was more comfortable and Sherlock resumed petting her hair.
John noticed straight away Sherlock's eyes were red and glassy, and recognised the odd smell in the kitchen from his college days.
Weed.
Sherlock had made hash brownies.
And fed them to Madeline.
John groaned in exasperation.
He should have known that when Sherlock said that he would be doing some experiments to see if Madeline would remember something in an altered state of mind, he had this in mind.
No, John had foolishly thought that maybe he would hypnotise her or something.
"Madeline said it was okay, John." Sherlock said, as if that made it all right to drug someone.
John pinched the bridge of his nose.
"And did Madeline know that this was what you were planning?" He asked like he was talking to a small child.
Sherlock frowned. "Well no, but-"
Madeline sat up slowly, like she was fighting gravity for every inch, and glared at John. "I said it was okay, okay? An' 'tis okay, okay? So stop bein' all grr and eat some cookies."
John just stared.
Sherlock on the other hand leapt from the ground with all the energy he didn't have before.
"Sherlock? Is everything fine?" John asked, the doctor part of him not wanting any harm to come to anyone involved in this ill-advised experiment.
"Cookies!"
