A/N: This fanficton takes place after The Reichenbach Fall. I have seen The Empty Hearse, but I have decided to not follow the series (event wise), though I may introduce a few of the characters. We'll just see how this plays out. I wanted to clear this up before anyone asks. :)
"Thanks so much, John. I hadn't realized how much I had actually packed. Until now." Isabel said, smiling at the fact that, after 2 hours, everything was put away, neatly and perfectly. He glanced at her, then back at the kitchen which was not the 'girliest' as he thought it would be, but rather colorful and relaxing.
"No problem. I'm glad that there's someone else for Sherlock to annoy." He looked back at Isabel, who was staring off into space. "Uhm, are you…. You okay?" He asked, not quite sure. She looked back at him, as if to say 'Huh?' and then relaxed.
"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I do that sometimes. I get distracted somewhat easily. I was just lost in thought." She said, seeming as though she were wearing a mask. She smiled slightly too much, and she replied a bit too fast to be okay. John brushed the thought off though, thinking he was probably over exaggerating. Last thing he needed was to turn into Sherlock, if even for a moment.
John looked out at the coffee table, which had a small midnight blue box on it, contrasting against the light brown wood. He gave Isabel a look as if to say 'What the hell is that?' Isabel chuckled and walked into the living room, picking up the box, and held it out to John. He took it reluctantly.
"This is the surprise I was talking about, Doctor. I haven't yet gotten Sherlock one yet, though. Any ideas as to what I should get for him?" She asked, waiting for him to open the box. As soon as the former soldier opened it, he gasped.
He took out a silver watch, the face of it black. Instead of showing numbers or a indication of time, England's Coat of Arms was on it, the colors bright against the black background. He flipped it over, to show an engraving that read:
"You gave me another chance to go back home to my family by saving my life. Thank you, Doctor." in small, elegant writing. John looked back at Isabel, and saluted. She did the same, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Thank you, Soldier." She said, lowering her hand slowly to her neck, rubbing it gently, as if to calm herself.
"Thank you, ma'am." He said, sharply removing his hand from his forehead. He put the watch on his left wrist, feeling the cold, heavy metal against his skin. He looked over at Isabel, who was now sitting on the soft grey couch, with her eyes closed. "I love it, the watch I mean. I love it. It's beautiful."
"That's good, that you like it. I was hoping you would. I got it the day I met you. My dad was hoping I'd come across you one day, and when I did, I was to give you this watch. Custom made." She opened her eyes. "Anyway, what do you think Sherlock would want?"
John sat down on the couch, unsure of what the detective would like. His violin was still in good shape, so not a new one. Maybe a new set of test tubes, as the ones he currently had were starting to crack. "I'm not sure. He's always complained about gifts. 'I don't want them. I don't need anything. I have everything I want/need.' He's just so damn difficult and I hate it sometimes." He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "But, I guess it's not exactly the best idea to talk about him behind his back, is it?"
"Well, Doctor Watson, I guess it's not the most polite thing ever, but I guess that can get kind of annoying." Isabel said, her French accent getting a bit thicker with every word. "But, some things you just can't change." She said, smiling at John, who looked over at the door, then at his watch.
"I have to go. Thanks again for the watch. I love it, I really do. I've got a date though, sorry." He frowned slightly, though Isabel told him to go.
She was alone in the comfort of her small flat. Serenity, after a long day, was just what she needed to relax.
She woke up at 9AM to someone knocking rather loudly at her door. "Just a minute," She yelled groggily, getting out of her bed and opening the door. "Sherlock? What the hell are you doing right now?" She said nastily to the tall man standing in front of her. He smirked, knowing she'd hate what he was about to tell her.
"Well, Ms. Marshall, I thought you'd like to know that Lestrade just called me." He said, walking into her flat before she could argue.
"So? Why are you telling me? Why aren't you solving some case with your blogger?" She closed the door, and walked over to where he was standing in the kitchen. "Or does he want me to come into work? Because I was told I had the day off today." She walked over to the coffee maker, and starting making a pot of coffee.
"Actually, John's at his girlfriend's flat. He said he was going to be with her for the day. And I need someone to come with me. Will you?" He asked, really wishing he could go by himself.
"Yes, I'll go with you just to stand there and take notes like I do every single day, Sherlock. Because I have the day off, so why shouldn't I do my job? That makes total sense, Sherlock." She said, sarcastically. He frowned, and she gave him a look that said, 'If you're deducing me, I will shoot your freaking head'.
"Fine, it's not like I'd need you anyway. I'm just used to having someone there, I guess." Sherlock said, turning away and starting to walk towards the door to leave.
"You know, maybe I'd go if you didn't wake me up when I had the day off and I was on my damn period. But no, that's too hard to deduce apparently." She muttered under her breath, pouring herself a cup of coffee and making it how she like it. She sat on the counter, and began to drink her beverage. He turned right back around, and walked to her quickly, very annoyed.
"I'm sorry, did you just say something?" He said, slowing down as he got closer to her. He stopped right in front of her, putting his hands of either side of her, leaning towards her. "Or was I just hearing things?" He growled. She put her mug down, and wrapped her hands around his neck. She leaned her face towards his, so their foreheads were touching. Her lips just barely touched his.
"You know, I'd kiss you right now if you weren't being so mean. I mean, I'm having really bad mood swings and you're really hot. But you're being rude." She whispered. She moved her mouth close to his ear, putting her cheek against his. "And I said that if you hadn't woken me up when I had the day off and I had my period, I would've gone." She leaned back, smirking, and winked. Her auburn hair had a gold glow around it, considering she was sitting in front of the open window and it was sunny.
Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but the look on Isabel's face made him close it again. She took her hands away from his neck, reaching to grab her cup. "I'm guessing you have a tendency to tease men so they shut up. It's not nice, either, to be quite honest." He stepped back, looking at the ground.
"No shit, Sherlock. Now shut up, and let me go get dressed. Call Lestrade and tell him I'm coming in after all." She said, hopping off the counter. She walked into her bedroom, and for the first time, he noticed she was wearing really short shorts, and a cami that, to him, was a bit revealing. When she walked back out, she was wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans with black Converse sneakers, and had a low cut red lacy tank-top on. She walked back into her room, grabbing a black leather jacket. "Alright, let's go." She threw her hair up into a messy-but-put-together layered ponytail, grabbing her keys from the coffee table. "Should I drive?" She asked, walking over to the impatient detective, who looked just about ready to burst.
"You know, that was rather impolite. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't do that, thanks." Sherlock said sarcastically.
"Yeah, uh, no. You wouldn't appreciate it if I stopped because you wouldn't care. And get used to it, Sunshine, because I'll be doing it a lot more often. Now, back to my question. Am I driving or are we taking a cabbie?" She asked, her hand subconsciously reaching towards a scar on his cheek. It was small, and barely visible, and she cocked her head to the side slightly. The moment she realized what she was doing, she quickly moved her hand from his cheekbone to her arm as she nervously rubbed it. She felt awkward and hoisted herself back onto the counter. Sherlock, however, seemed completely unfazed from her action.
"Why don't we take a cabbie, it'll be faster." Sherlock said, walking back towards the door.
"Uh, no it won't. And I'm not going to make you pay 60 pounds just because I drove you somewhere for 10 minutes. Come on, let's go." Isabel said, sighing as she walked out to the car. He told her where to go, and as soon as he said the address, her face froze in an expression of shock.
There was a murder at her old flat, and everyone who was in it at the time was killed.
When she had completely processed the thought, she remained silent, even so that her breath couldn't be heard. Though at that point she may've not even had a breath, she may as well have been dead. The rest of the trip was silent.