Since I'm almost finished with a chap for one of my other stories I thought I'd throw up another chap for this one. :)
John entered 221 and ascended the steps. He took the day off work and spent part of the morning going over his blog, looking for a case, a way to take Sherlock's mind off that woman. Marion, not her real name, but a name nonetheless. His friend hadn't gone out on a case since he became interested in her, though obsessed was a more accurate term. Something John was unable to wrap his mind around.
Sherlock had shown interest in the woman, but nothing like this. He was determined to take his friend's mind off of her and a case was the best way. He opened the door and found Sherlock sitting at the table in the living room, running some sort of search on his laptop. There was a strange sort of puzzle box to his friend's right.
"Found it," Sherlock announced as John crossed the room toward him.
"Found what?" he asked.
Sherlock glanced up, not having heard John enter the flat. He'd been too focused on finding the location of his next meeting with her. He took in the papers that his friend held. Printed from John's computer. A case.
"Nothing," Sherlock replied, closing his laptop and absentmindedly picking up the puzzle box as he sat back.
It'd taken him nearly two hours to solve it, quite an accomplishment for whoever made it. Handcrafted. Redwood. Not something she picked up in a shop. She'd had it specifically tailored for him.
John noted the way Sherlock picked up the puzzle box, gazing at it as one might gaze at a precious momento.
"Was that from her?" the doctor asked.
"Beautiful…" The gears in John's mind ground to a halt. Sherlock stroked it almost lovingly. "Beautiful craftsmanship."
"Um…Right." John mentally kicked himself to get his mind moving again. "Anyway, I found a case. I think you'll be interested. It seems this woman-"
"What time?" Sherlock interrupted, setting the puzzle box back on the table.
"Sorry?" John inquired, not sure what the detective was referring to.
"You've set up an interview. What time?"
"Oh. Um. She should be here in a few minutes."
"Good."
John expected a fight, some argument in which his friend would insist that he didn't have time because he had to solve some clue Marion left behind. Maybe he was wrong, maybe Sherlock lost interest.
"Not busy today then?" John asked.
"Not until this evening," Sherlock said, standing up.
"This evening?"
He followed the detective into the kitchen. Waiting for an answer as Sherlock put the kettle on, but his friend didn't respond, which meant it probably had to do with that woman. John sighed and was about to point out that Sherlock was becoming a bit obsessed over this whole thing when his eyes landed on two pairs of handcuffs next to the microscope.
The last set of handcuffs Sherlock used had been lifted from Greg. Had the inspector been by? Was that what Sherlock was busy with tonight? Some case he was working on his own? He reached for one, intent on asking his friend about the case.
"Don't touch those," Sherlock demanded, grabbing them from the table before John could so much as touch them.
"Um…okay," John said, wondering what the hell just got into his friend.
Sherlock slid them into his trouser pocket. He knew he'd snapped at John and his friend would be wondering what was going on, but he couldn't have John's fingerprints on them. He hadn't dusted them for prints yet. Something he planned on doing…later. And until he did he couldn't have anyone else touching them.
"They're…evidence," he replied, busying himself with a cup of coffee.
"Right," John replied, knowing that wasn't the case and wondering if and how those handcuff could be related to that woman.
He wasn't going to ask. He definitely wasn't going to ask.
"Client's here," Sherlock announced.
The sound of someone coming up the stairs drew his attention. Hopefully this case would get Sherlock's mind off that woman. Though, seeing the way his friend was acting he really doubted that.
Rose strapped the transporter to her wrist. She'd be out of London for the day. Back to Norway to check on her friends who stayed behind. Make sure they were all right and had everything they needed.
That's why she wasn't worried about keeping Sherlock occupied today. There would be no accidental run ins. She knew their game was becoming dangerous. He got the drop on her last night. She wasn't sure how he managed to get inside the building without the cameras picking it up. She'd have to be more careful, set some cameras up inside the next location. She knew she should stop, but she also knew if she did he'd come looking for her. Maybe go back to PrimeTech and she couldn't have that. Besides, she'd never been able to turn down the lure of danger. It was one of the things that made her work for Torchwood. Something she missed from her travels.
Sherlock stepped into his flat, followed by John. The case had taken all of five hours and only that long because Sherlock kept asking his friend what he thought happened. Since he had the time and wanted to use up as much as he could between then and his meeting tonight.
He already had a plan in mind. He knew she'd have camera inside the new location, bottom floor only and since he planned on coming in through the roof again he knew he could find a safe location to lay in wait for her.
She usually made an appearance between nine and ten, which meant he had roughly four hours until he had to be there. John wasn't happy with his interest in her. His friend hadn't said as much, but Sherlock could tell. John thought she was another Irene Adler, but she was far more Interesting. Far more Clever.
He sat down in his chair after hanging up his coat and scarf. Mrs. Hudson had brought tea in his absence. He busied himself making them each a cup. John sat down and he handed his friend's cup over.
"Um…thanks," John replied, giving Sherlock a quizzical glance.
Sherlock didn't reply, noting the confused look his friend wore. As if he'd never made John a cup, but he must have. They'd lived together for a few years. He was sure he'd done it in past.
"How's Mary?" he asked, to pass the time. Three hours and forty-two minutes.
"Um…She's good."
John wasn't sure what was going on with Sherlock. His friend wasn't one for small talk. Not usually.
"Good," Sherlock replied, sitting back and drinking his tea.
He'd been avoiding the subject while they were on the case, but now, with Sherlock sitting there and nothing better to do he decided to find out exactly what was going on with his friend and that woman.
"So," John said, sitting forward. "You've been seeing her then?"
Not really a question because he already knew, but he wanted to take in his friend's reaction to his words.
"Seeing who?" Sherlock asked, feigning ignorance.
"Marion."
Sherlock didn't think of her as Marion Prentice because that wasn't her real name. He'd referred to her as Ms. Prentice on a few occasions, but only because he didn't know her real name. Something he wanted desperately to learn.
"Why are you asking questions to which you already know the answer?" Sherlock asked, a bit impatiently.
He didn't want to talk about it, John could hear that in his friend's voice, but he wasn't letting Sherlock off that easily.
"You do remember what she did to you, why you were looking for her in the first place."
"Of course I remember, John, but she altered my memory to protect the people she cares about."
John paused. This being the first time he'd heard about that. Protecting the people she cares about? Did she tell Sherlock?
"How do you know that?" he asked.
"During out meeting at PrimeTech she asked that I leave and not return because she was afraid of drawing Mycroft's interest and therefore endangering her friend. Her primary focus is protecting the people she cares about. Somehow our first meeting must have made her feel threatened and she erased my memory in an effort to protect them," Sherlock explained, in that offhanded, why didn't John figure it out, sort of way.
John processed this information. His view of Marion changing. Irene had been all about protecting herself, but this new woman seemed more inclined to protect the people she cared about. Something Sherlock had done when he jumped from that building. Something John was also inclined to do. Not an Irene Adler then. His face lit up with a smile.
"Stop that," Sherlock insisted, upon seeing his friend's face light up.
"So…" John nodded to his friend's pocket. "Where do the handcuffs come in?"
Rose opened the safe and pulled out one of her just in case supplies. Everything she'd brought with her from Torchwood was inside that safe and if she wasn't careful she'd wind up using all of them on Sherlock. Well, most of them. She didn't want to kill him.
She already watched the camera feed and according to it Sherlock wasn't inside or outside, but she knew better than to believe that after he got the drop on her. She grabbed another pair of handcuffs and slipped them into her pocket. Then she strapped on her teleporter.
In the next moment she was standing inside an unused office next to an old file cabinet, choosing to make her entrance next to one of the cameras. The door to the room was closed so he wouldn't be able to see her sudden appearance.
She started across the room, but stopped as the door opened and Sherlock stepped into the room.
He caught the look of surprise that crossed her eyes and couldn't help the smile that formed. She hadn't expected his entrance. He'd come in through the roof and waited at the turn in the stairwell. Waited for the sound that would tell him she arrived. As soon as he heard it he hurried down the stairs and into the room the sound had come from.
She caught the way his eyes roved over the room, trying to detect her point of entry and coming up blank. She returned his smile, recovering from the surprise.
"You're early," she teased.
"I believe we've already discussed my impatience," he replied, a teasing lilt in his own voice.
As he crossed the room toward her she began calculating an escape plan, but at the same time she couldn't help taking pleasure in the danger this posed. Of course she couldn't let things get to far, but she managed to keep control last time. Even if it had been barely held in place.
"Did you enjoy your trip out of London?" he asked.
Her eyes snapped to his and she caught the grin he gave her. How the hell did he know she left London? She teleported directly from her flat and then back at the end of the day. There's no way he could know, which meant he must have worked it out, but how.
"How did you know?" she inquired.
"The puzzle box wasn't a distraction, like the others. It was a gift."
He stopped in front of her, taking in her black trousers, different pair, powder blue top, and trainers. Her hair hung loose and was still a bit damp from the bath she'd had before she arrived. Both of his hands twitched at the sight, thirty-eight ideas springing to mind, but he clasped his hands behind his back. Focusing his mind on working out how she could possibly walk around London with the chill in the air and not wear even a light jacket.
At that moment she pulled out that cheeky grin and his mind decided there were thirty-eight other things it would much rather consider. His hands twitched again as his eyes traveled over her.
"Didn't solve it too quickly I hope," she replied.
"One hours forty-seven minutes."
She gave him a look of admiration and that look from her was all it took to crack his restraint. He grabbed her arms and backed her up the last few paces to the nearest wall. She gasped, first in surprise, but ending in pleasure. The sound nearly drove him out of his mind.
He held her gaze and the excitement mingling with the admiration behind her eyes was more than he could take. In that moment he'd never wanted anything in his entire life as much as he wanted her. To see every inch of her. To feel every inch of her. This woman whose name he didn't even know had become his entire world.
Rose's entire body erupted in fire. Oh, god. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted him in that moment, but this was beyond fun, beyond a game. One kiss would end it and part of her didn't care, wanted it to end if this was the way, but this wasn't just about her. She pulled the patch out and feigning a move to touch his neck she allowed the tranquilizers to seep into his skin. They were effective, fast acting. Before he knew what hit him he was passing out.
She held him against her, teleporting them both to his flat. It wouldn't do to leave him passed out in an abandoned building where anyone could find him. She laid him back in his chair, sliding the handheld into his pocket. His latest clues inside in the form of riddles, but first he had to crack the code. She grinned, gazing down at the sleeping man, wishing things were different, but knowing they weren't. She bent down and kissed his cheek, lovingly. Then she teleported home.
Standard Disclaimer.
Thank you to all my brilliant readers!
If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)