"Alright, I'll want these sick sons of bitches put down like a sick pet," Donavan raged. The three of us stood outside the day-care centre as paramedics carried way the 'Snow White' and her 'Seven Dwarves.'
"I agree," said Scarlett. She tugged on her scarf. "And I think we can help, but I need all the information you have on this case."
"Everything we have will be sent to your flat. You are still living in that rat hole, aren't you?" asked Donavan.
Scarlett didn't answer, and Donavan got the hint. Nothing was said after that. We watched in dead silence as the last child was put into an ambulance. Scarlett and I turned from the scene and called a cab. Soon, the cab rolled up to the frosted curb.
"Wait!" Donavan shouted. She raced up to the cab where Scarlett was standing with the door open. "Tell me this, Holmes; what was with the silver dagger?"
"In the original tale, the evil queen wanted the huntsman to kill Snow White with a silver dagger and bring back her heart in a box. But the huntsman couldn't do it because she was too beautiful, so he brought the queen a pig heart inside the box."
"I knew that," Donavan said putting her hand on her hip. "I just wanted to see if you talked as cocky as he did."
Scarlett had enough; she sat down in the car and slammed the door. I said good-bye to the officer and got in on the opposite side.
"That was rude," I said. Scarlett didn't answer me. She bit her finger and looked out the window, the sun had set and it had started to snow. Her face was very pale and her red lips glared brightly in the beam of the streetlights. Suddenly, she coughed harshly, but Scarlett didn't look at all shocked. She took an inhaler out of her coat pocket and brought it to her mouth. Scarlett pushed the button and breathed in deeply.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine," she said.
"I'm sick of this," I busted out.
"Sick of what?"
"You, Scarlett! You're hiding important things from me about this case and about you. Why won't you talk to me?"
"I can't talk to anyone, James. ! They all just say 'Oh, you'll get over it,' 'Suck it up,' 'There's nothing that can be done to help you.'"
"I would never say those things to you," I said quietly looking downwards at my hands. She looked at me. "At least tell me what that's for; I am a doctor." I pointed to the inhaler still in Scarlett's hands.
She took a deep breath. "When I was about five or six, I was in an automobile accident. The wreck killed everyone in every car, it should have killed me. My car had flipped, I was pinned down and, unknown to me then, my lung had collapsed and was full of shrapnel. But a bystander managed to pull me out and got me to a hospital. The doctors did all they could but I have these little 'attacks' that pain my chest, and if I ever lost this inhaler, I could die."
"Did you ever get a look at the person who saved you?" I asked.
"All I could see was a male figure before a blanked out."
"Oh."
"Yeah." The rest of the ride back to Baker Street was quiet one. The sidewalk was completely covered in a thin blanket of white snow. I walked up the door with Scarlett. She stared at me for a while before looking away. "James?"
"Yes?"
"Your right," she whispered.
"About what?" I turned to head to face her.
"If we are going to work together, I need to tell you things. But it's just hard."
"Why is it hard?"
Scarlett swallowed hard. "When my dad, um, left, I didn't like talking. Children my age thought I was a freak, and truthfully I was. They went home to their mums and dads every evening and together they would sit at a table and eat and talk about how their days were. When I got home, I was alone. Nobody was ever there for me tell how my day went."
"What about Mrs. Hudson?" I asked.
She cracked a painful smile. "Do you tell your grandmother, who thinks you are the most perfect kid in the world, that you are getting picked on at school because you can see when one of your classmates is getting a new puppy for Christmas when it's September?"
"I guess not. So that's why you don't talk, because you're afraid of getting called a freak again?" The cab turned down Baker Street and I never got answer. "I know how that feels, Scarlett."
"What?" She obviously thought I was lying.
"I knew from a very young age I want to be just like my dad. I wanted to be an amazing doctor and save lives. Now, image on the first day of primary school the teacher asks what you want to be when you grow up and the kid next to you answers a superhero." I laughed. The memory was funny to me now. Scarlett smiled too. "Scarlett, don't you ever feel like you're alone. It's not really your area." She looked up at me suddenly as if my words reminded her of something.
Inky black sky was folded over London by the time the cab pulled up on the curb of 221B Baker Street. A told the cabbie to wait for me as I walked Scarlett to the front door. She bit her lip as she slid the key into the lock.
She turned to face me. Her black curly hair and her eyelashes her sparkled in tiny white spots of snow. "You know, these roads can be kind of dangerous at night and the ice doesn't really help. Why don't you, um, stay here tonight. I have the room it's really no trouble."
I stared at her, my mouth a little a jar. "Well, I shouldn't risk my safety now should I?" Wow, that was corny. But I flagged the cab to go on and went with my partner inside.
"Would you like something to drink?" Scarlett asked once we were up the steps and into the flat.
"Tea, would be nice," I answered.
"Well, then you'll have to make it yourself." Without another word she turned down the hallway and into a bedroom. The door shut behind her. I sighed and went to the kitchen. I will make it myself, I thought.
Moments later, I sat down in a chair in front of the fire with my cup of hot tea. The door down the hall opened and Scarlett came out into the living area. I am not going to lie, I was a little shocked by her appearance. She wore nothing but a short, skin-tight sleeping gown and a thin robe. Her face had been washed and her hair brushed lightly on her shoulders. This was the first time I realized that Scarlett Holmes did not wear any make-up, her face was just that perfect.
"Is something wrong, James?" she asked taking the seat opposite me. She crossed her legs and picked her violin off the stand beside her. She plucked dreamily at the thin strings.
"Not at all," I stuttered. "So, Scarlett-"
"No," she said harshly before I could even make out my question.
"You didn't even know what I was going to say!" I protested.
"You were going to ask me if I had a 'special someone' in my life. But the answer is no."
"No do what question?"
"No to you, James." She looked me dead in the eye. "This can't happen between us."
"Why not?"
Then she did something really unexpected. Scarlett took a hold of wrist and sat down in my lap. "We are business partners. Nothing more, do you understand?"
I nodded.
"Tomorrow you will make up with that little nurse and go on a date with her," Scarlett said.
"But-" I began to protest. I didn't want the little nurse, I wanted Scarlett.
Her finger moved over my lips. "Please don't. I'm a horrid, destructive flame, James, and you know what happens when you touch a flame?" Scarlett's hands tucked under my chin and she kissed me. She actually kissed me. On. The. Lips. She released me and whispered in my ear. "You get burned."
She stood up and walked down the hallway. Scarlett stopped in front of her door. "There are fresh sheets on your bed." She turned the door knob and went to bed without another word.