Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlock BBC characters, or locations, etc.
A/N: Please read, and hopefully enjoy…and review…if you feel like it ;) I know this has been quite a long story, to be honest I never imagined it would be this long, but the next chapter will be the last one.
Chapter 13: Mrs. Hudson: the Prophet.
Cecilia was pulling luggage out of the trunk of a cab in front of 221 Baker St. and thinking about how much had happened in her life since she had last been doing this. Mrs. Hudson, calling her name, brought her out of her daydreaming.
"Cecilia, you've been staring into space for five minutes. Let's get those suitcases in and have some tea."
Cecilia heaved the two large suitcases up the stairs, relieved that her aunt was well enough to come home. Somewhere in the back of her mind, however, she knew that Mrs. Hudson coming home also meant that she would have to start thinking about moving on. Cecilia pushed the thought away. For now she was happy and didn't want anything to change.
After getting her Aunt settled in Cecilia put the kettle on the stove and got out two mugs.
"I've invited everyone over for a little welcome home party tonight" Cecilia told her aunt as she rinsed her hands in the sink and sat down. "Unless you're not feeling up to it?"
"No I think that's a lovely idea. Who's coming?"
"John and Sarah said they are coming, and Sherlock too, if he feels inclined, I suppose."
"I hope Sherlock wasn't too much of a handful while I was gone."
Cecilia hadn't told her Aunt of her recent affair with the brilliant man upstairs and she didn't want to now. She knew exactly what her Aunt would tell her; "He's dangerous, irritable, he'll only hurt you." And deep down she knew her Aunt was probably right. " He was no trouble at all; No more than usual anyway." She answered, hoping that she didn't give anything away in her tone of voice.
The whistle of the kettle startled her. She felt like it was raising the alarm of her omission. She quickly pulled the kettle off the heat and poured it out into the waiting mugs, dispatching the boiling snitch with pleasure.
Evening rolled across London. Cecilia finished setting out some hors d'oeuvres and getting the ice out of the freezer when John and Sarah knocked on the door.
"Come in!" She yelled.
John, Sarah, and Sherlock paraded into Mrs. Hudson's apartment; thankfully John and Sarah had agreed not to tell Mrs. Hudson abut Cecilia and Sherlock but they weren't the best people at pretending nothing was going on. Sherlock and Cecilia's eyes met for a moment when they walked in; Sarah smiled and had to look away, burying her face in the bouquet of flowers she carried
"Welcome back, Mrs. Hudson!" She said as she held the flowers up.
"Oh my, those are so lovely! Let me go get a vase for them."
"I've got something for you too, Cecilia." John added. He handed her a white envelope with a University letterhead on it. "It was delivered to our box by mistake."
"Oh, John, you shouldn't have." Cecilia joked.
" Well, you mean a lot to us, and you're worth it." He replied in overly serious sarcastic tones.
Cecilia rolled her eyes and glanced at Sherlock. He was stoic and hard to read, but Cecilia was sure she caught a glint in his eye and a twitch of the corner of his mouth.
"What's that?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she returned with a vase and set it on the counter.
"It's from the University of Victoria." Cecilia was puzzled as she looked at the letter; she had no idea what this could be. She had always wanted to go there for her master's degree but she hadn't even though about applying.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Open it!" Mrs. Hudson encouraged her through the mass of flowers she was arranging in the vase.
"Yes! Open it!" Sarah repeated.
Cecilia was curious; what could this possibly be? She ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter. Everyone stared at her as she scanned it; her confused expression only deepened.
"Well?" John prodded. "What's it say?"
Cecilia was speechless for a moment. "I've been accepted to the Master's program I've always wanted to be in…my research supervisor must have submitted an application for me…but…it also says I'm being given a full scholarship, plus living expenses." She stared into the distance; this was incredible. There was absolutely no reason not to go…except…
"Well, it's fate! It's a welcome home party and a congratulations party!" Mrs. Hudson hugged Cecilia.
Sarah grabbed the letter from Cecilia's unresisting grip so she could read it herself. Sherlock eyed the letter from over her shoulder; it looked legitimate, but he just couldn't believe it. A creeping sense of unease came over him.
Cecilia took the letter back and checked the time. "I'm just going to call and make sure this isn't a mistake; it's still early there, I should be able to talk to someone and get this straightened out." She went into her room and closed the door. Sherlock caught her eye as the door swing shut, he didn't like what he saw in her expression.
"Tuck in, everyone!" Mrs. Hudson motioned to the food on the counter.
John, Sarah, and Mrs. Hudson filled their plates and sat down. Sherlock joined them at the table but didn't feel like eating.
"Fill me in on everything I missed while I was gone, gents! Any exciting developments?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
Sarah coughed, choking on her drink. John patted her back as she cleared her throat. Sherlock gave her a dangerous look.
"Nothing unusual, really, Mrs. Hudson. Cases have picked up again." Sherlock stated with no emotion.
"Yes, and I tell you, Cecilia has really just been so lovely for Sherlock…and me." John paused for just a beat longer than he needed. "She's pestered him into being a great tenant. You'd hardly recognize the flat." Sarah smiled.
"Yes. I've heard she's been riding him very hard…to stop doing experiments in the flat. Sarah added.
"hmmm." John passed off his laughter as agreement. "And to put his books away."
"How was your stay out in the country, Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asked, trying to change the subject.
"It was lovely; something that I really needed." She went on to regale them with stories from the little village near where she stayed until Cecilia reappeared from her room.
"Well, I talked to the admissions advisor…it all seems to be real." She almost couldn't believe the words as they came from her mouth. "There's just one thing…"
Everyone in the room went silent and stared at her expectantly.
Cecilia caught Sherlock's eye and then looked down at her hands. "Uuuh. I have to be there in three days; otherwise they have to give away my spot. I can't go; I can't leave you, Auntie, you just got back."
"Don't be foolish, Cecilia. I managed without you here for a very long time, and I can manage again. You need to take this opportunity."
"Of course you do, Cecilia, I don't know why you're still standing there instead of packing!" Sarah chimed in.
"We'll be sad to see you leave but you need to do this." John added.
Cecilia looked to Sherlock again; he nodded but couldn't meet her eyes.
"Well, that seems to decide it but there's not much I can do tonight; let's all just enjoy the party." Cecilia's throat felt tight and she fought back a sting at the corners of her eyes. This is what she had always wanted. And to have such an amazing opportunity…a full scholarship…her dream program. "Why does it feel like I've made the wrong choice?"
She filled a plate and sat down at the table. As Mrs. Hudson picked up the thread of her story and drew the attention of John and Sarah, Sherlock silently squeezed Cecilia's knee under the table. It was a gesture of reassurance and a promise that things would be just fine. After all, in this age of mass communications, it wouldn't be hard to keep in touch. She smiled at him, grateful that he seemed to understand.
With Cecilia busy all the next day packing and no case presently to work on Sherlock was tense. He pulled out a few books but abandoned them within a few minutes. Something wasn't sitting right with the world. He would never say anything to her, but he felt Cecilia's letter was highly suspicious. He opened up his laptop to check if anything interesting had been submitted to his website. He checked the most recent posts; there was one from this morning, when he read it he froze
- Lab accident claims the life of student at the University of Victoria.
Sherlock had a panicky trickling sensation down the back of his neck. This was precisely how he had felt when John had walked out of the pool change-rooms draped in explosives. He clicked the link; unexpectedly it brought up an instant message window. It was blank for a moment, but showed someone was typing and then a message appeared.
: It was rumoured that Sherlock Holmes was the worlds' only living heart donor, but that's not exactly true, is it?
Sherlock: who is this?
: Oh, now I'm hurt. I would have thought my little speech at the pool would have been more memorable.
Sherlock: Leave Cecilia alone.
: Damn. That's what I was going to say. Enough of this. Answer the payphone on the corner of Baker Street in five minutes.
Sherlock ran out of the apartment, his mind buzzing; trying to find a way to catch Moriarty; to prevent what he was certain was coming. He reached the pay phone just as it began to ring and snatched up the receiver.
"Moriarty.." He spoke with a deadly calm.
" Just listen Sherlock." Said the voice on the other end of the line. A lyrical laugh spilled out of the earpiece as a red laser sight danced up Sherlock's torso. "Don't worry. That's only there if you try to do something foolish." Moriarty sighed heartily. " Oh, my friend, what a gift you have given me. Remember what I told you at the pool that night? That I would burn the heart out of you. Well, you've gone right ahead and made that poetically possible for me. I can't thank you enough…really. I arranged for your little fling to get into that program. I am funding her studies. All you have to do is make sure there is never any contact between the two of you ever again." Moriarty laughed; it was chilling how quickly he went from seething anger to manic laughter. "Isn't it just such a simple plan? If you ever call her, write her, anything or if she tries to contact you then she will meet with a very unfortunate, and particularly explosive lab accident." Moriarty laughed again. "Bye-bye, Sherlock." His voice was nasal and saccharine and then the line went dead.
Sherlock swallowed hard then hung up the pone up. He knew what had to be done; but the thought of it twisted his stomach. He walked slowly back to 221b, methodically planning what he would say and do to Cecilia in the two days before she left. He had to make her hate him; otherwise the temptation to reach out to one another would be too great. He knew Moriarty would be watching all channels of communication, and his archenemy was not someone who he could easily fool. The risk was just too great.