"I don't see why I have to come." I muttered, looking out the carriage window.
"Ah-ha! So it takes 3 days of traveling for you to speak to me!" Watson and I glared at him, neither of us having fun.
"Now I'm just letting you know how pissed I am." I looked back out the window. "There isn't a point of me coming on this fucking trip."
"I agree. Why am I here as well?" We both looked to Holmes, who looked back to us.
"It'd be a rather boring trip without company." I let my head hit the side, groaning as Watson sighed. The carriage stopped so the guy driving it could go to the bathroom and get something to eat. I sighed and pulled out a box of cigarettes, taking one out.
"Holmes, got a- what?" I asked, seeing them both staring at me. Holmes with a bemused look and Watson with a confused one.
"How in blue blazes did you get that?" Watson asked. Before I could answer Holmes answered for me as he leaned forward, lighting my cig with a match.
"She stole it from that elderly fellow who was with us from the train station to 446 elm court." He sat back, crossing his legs and putting his fingertips together with a smug smile. "Rather clever way. As he reached under the seat, you faked a sneeze, bumping into him as so he could not feel the tug of you taking the box from his inner pocket." Watson sighed, and I took a large puff, forgetting how much I missed nicotine. "Common deduction would conclude that you have pick-pocketed many times." Watson stood and got out, stretching.
"I shall be inside before I get caught in the middle of the fire." he put his cane down and looked at me. "Care for anything whilst you bicker?" I laughed some.
"What are those things called here? Those uhh, fish and chips?" He nodded and looked to Holmes with an indifferent stare.
"I'm good ol'chap." Watson left and Holmes stared at me through his circle sunglasses. He wore his hat tilted down and slightly to the side, with a black over coat with the collar up, his fingertips still together, a small smile on his face.
"If you must know, yes, I use to steal. When you live on your own since you've been a kid, you learn real fast how to keep income coming. Anything else to suit your fancy?" I asked, throwing the last of the cigarette out the window.
"Yes." I sat back, head rested against the seat as I closed my eyes. "Who killed him?" My body went rigid as my eyes shot open. He stared at me with burning eyes, calculating my reaction no doubt. After a moment of tense silence, he uncrossed his legs, leaning forward and taking his glasses off. As I finally looked into them, they were soft, showing worry and want. "There were fatal stab wounds, and you had no weapon." I couldn't look away from his eyes. "Who frightened you so?" That did it. I looked out the window, heart racing as I tried to look indifferent. "You yell and curse when angry, you act happy when sad, pace when agitated, and now I have to conclusion, that you become recluse when scared." I close my eyes, slowly looking at him with sad eyes.
"Holmes…"
"For someone of your stature, I am most worried about this unknown predicament." I stared at him, letting out a shaky breath. He kept those emotional eyes on me, both of us knowing that is what I truly needed.
"A common enemy." His brow knitted together, and as Watson and the cab man came back and we were off, he stayed in silence. Watson looked between us as time went on, a obvious look of confusion.
"So, am I-"
"No." Holmes and I said in unison.
"My word, this place is rather large." Watson said as he gendered around.
"It's Scotland, my dear Watson. What would you expect?" Holmes said as he began to walk around our hotel, looking at the ground.
"I've seen this movie." I said with a sigh, only to have Watson shoot me a look. "Uhhhh, never mind?" As Holmes walked around the corner, Watson limped up to me with that fatherly look. "Are we really going to do this?"
"Yes." I groaned a bit, looking to make sure Holmes was out of site.
"Where I come from, your journals are made into books. They are famous and they make shows and movies out of them." His eyebrows shot up and I shrugged, noticing Holmes coming around from the other side.
" Mi'lady?" I turned around, brows together. A young Scotts man stood before me, and I sighed a bit. "I was curious of your dress wear, for it fits such a lovely face. We are ye' from?" Before I could answer Holmes was half way in front of me, practically blocking me from the young man.
"Not your job. Now be a good fellow and fetch out stuff." I looked back to Watson, who only stared at me with raised eyebrows, then back to Holmes we both looked. "Bring them to our rooms, and fetch the lady who hired me." The boy nodded, I could feel the fear and question in him, and walked off, Holmes walking around me as so the boy could not see me. "Be quick about it will you!" The boy went into a sprint to the carriage and I stared up at Holmes. He turned on his heels, looking almost surprised when he say me.
Almost.
"What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and pushed his glasses upon his nose, looking down at me with that smile that always made me want to kill him and hug him at the same time. "You look dreadfully tired." He put an arm around my shoulder, turning me around and putting his other hand out. I stared at Watson for help, but he only shook his head, raising half his lip. He radiated off curiosity and amusement at the way Holmes was acting and at my own reaction towards his odd behavior. "Come now. Let us have a sit down with our client.