The air outside had a chill to it, and the dark clouds were threatening rain. It was strange to see that Sherlock almost instantly got a cab, and then we all got in. Sherlock and John took either side with me in the middle, making me feel like I had two bodyguards. Sherlock gave the address to the cabbie and then looked out the window, lost in his mind. John looked like he wanted to start a conversation, but he wasn't sure quite how to go about it. And me? I was just trying not to freak out, looking ahead and out the windows, unable to stop my fidgeting and struggling to keep my breathing even. I should not have a panic attack just from going outside the flat at Baker Street. The place that felt warm and safe, like nothing could hurt me there.
I apparently was more obvious about my movements than I thought, because Sherlock shifted, glancing at me before subtly shifting to press his leg against mine, from knee to hip, subtle and letting me know that he was there, and I was protected, without giving the cabbie anything to ogle at. John on the other hand was a little more tactile, and he took one of my hands in his gently, giving it a squeeze. "It's alright." he soothed quietly, watching me. "We can go back anytime if it's too much." He reassured after a moment.
Sherlock was observing this interaction with John curiously, though without any derision or jealousy or anything like that, just pure curiosity. But he did nudge me a little with his leg, giving me a soft, quick, encouraging smile when he knew that I was looking at him, before he turned to look out the side window again, back to being caught up in his thoughts.
I smiled a little as I watched his profile for a moment, then slowly looked back at John, giving his hand a squeeze in return. "I know. Thank you. I.. I feel safe with you two here. I guess it's just that this is the first time I've left the flat. It's more nerve-wracking than I thought it would be."
"Results of trauma. The store we're going to shouldn't be a crowded one, if it's any consolation." Sherlock spoke without turning his head away from the window, but it made me smile because I knew that it meant he was listening.
John peered across the cab at his flat mate and friend and.. possibly more, but that was something to be discussed later. "He's right, Sofia. It's perfectly understandable that you might be nervous in public or crowded places." He reassures me, his thumb rubbing against the back of my hand gently, and I noticed the rough skin, a little calloused because it's his left hand, his dominant hand, his gun hand, that he held mine with.
I just nodded and I smiled, shifting a little and very briefly putting my hand on Sherlock's leg, a brief gesture of gratitude. "Thanks." I said again, looking at John and smiling a little before looking down at my lap, feeling a sudden wave of shyness come over me.
"We should go to Angelo's for lunch. I'm sure he would love to meet Sofia." Sherlock says to the window, still staring out of it, but it's apparently his version of changing the subject away from something that apparently made me uncomfortable.
I smiled at him gratefully, and John chuckles, nodding. "Yeah, maybe he'll stop thinking I'm your date now, every time we go in there." he says with an amused roll of his eyes, before he looked at me and grinned. "Angelo's is really good food though, Italian." He says with a small shrug.
"Sounds nice.." I then look between the two and smirk before I let my eyes go wide, gasping a little. "You mean.. you two /aren't/ a couple?" I feign shock, looking first at John, then over at Sherlock.
John just groaned and put his free hand over his face, shaking his head a little. Sherlock, in the meantime, actually turns his head a little. "It depends on your definition." He says with a slightly flirty smile and a wink at me. That brought genuine surprise to my face, and my jaw dropped a little, staring at Sherlock for a few moments before I felt heat racing up my cheeks. I glanced at John for help, only to notice that he had blushed a little, too, and was avoiding looking at either of us, though he was still holding my hand. Which was nice.
The two men were very different, and it was easy to see the differences. Sherlock might come across as cold and unfeeling, but they're just defenses. I had gotten to see a different part of him. He seemed almost childlike sometimes, but he was also gentle and caring. Affectionate, even though he doesn't seem to know how to express it, and constantly thinking. Oh yes, it was easy for me to see his intelligence. And on the other side of me was John. A doctor. Gentle, kind, understanding. He was humble, unassuming, unlike the whirlwind of Sherlock, he is a rock, steady in the eye of a storm. But there was strength in him, too. He was fit, I felt as much when I woke up against him this morning. If I had to guess, I'd say he had some sort of military background, too, but that was just a matter of how he held himself. Again, it was one of those things that I didn't know how I knew it, I just did, and it was frustrating. John was not good at expressing his feelings though, typical British male, though I had a feeling he would be awfully cute if he tried.
I was still sort of caught up in my thoughts when the cab stopped outside of a rather posh looking building. Sherlock was out so fast that John was forced to pay, while Sherlock offered me a hand out. That made me smile a little, and I took his hand to get out of the car. "What a gentleman." I said softly with a little smile, smirking as I noticed him blush ever so faintly. Still, that was about all the relaxation I got before I started to look around my surroundings, taking in everything and not able to stop looking at the dark alleys or people just wandering around.
Sherlock apparently noticed me losing focus, and he placed a hand firmly on my lower back. "Best we get out of the street." he spoke quietly, his head close to mine before he guided me toward the shop where John was already waiting.
It was a long trip, the women inside seeming to adore Sherlock and John. They were sat down in the waiting room with tea and magazines, while I was taken off by two sales women, clothes being brought into a room for me to try on, and none of them had prices on them, which worried me a little, but I had a feeling that Sherlock and/or John had something to do with that. I couldn't tell for sure because I wasn't let out of the little room, but I thought Sherlock and John also might have something to do with my wardrobe choices, because I heard a fairly distinct baritone scolding someone, and a very distinct 'You have NO sense of color! Are you blind or just an imbecile!', and that sent me into a laughing fit which did not make one of my 'personal shoppers' too happy, but it pleased me to no extent. I wished that I could model a bit more for the boys, just to get their reactions, but realized that not even I was brave enough for that.
The shoppers had been instructed to get me everything from the ground up, so I ended up with summer wear, winter wear, in between, jackets, shoes, underwear, gloves, and even a scarf, which was so similar to Sherlock's that it made me smile. I kept one of the outfits on, along with my new jacket and such before I walked out.
Sherlock was already standing, pacing a little, but John looked relaxed, before he stood quickly when he caught sight of me. "Well.. It seems that despite Sherlock's objections, they do know a thing or two about what looks good on a woman. You look beautiful." He says quietly as he stepped over to me, placing a hand on his arm gently, leaning in to kiss my cheek gently.
Sherlock swiftly stepped over, giving me a rather thorough once-over, and pulling out one side of my jacket to see what's underneath before he reacts. It felt both flattering and a little frustrating, like he couldn't trust me to choose my own clothes. But then again, considering his all-designer collection he seemed to have, that wouldn't be too big of a stretch.
Sherlock nods in approval and he relaxed finally. "Yes, it seems they're not quite as incompetent as I thought." He notes before he walks over to the counter, handing over his credit card and signing for everything as it was brought out in a few bags.
I blushed under all the attention and then cleared my throat. "So.. I guess I just need a few.. toiletry items, and then we can.. go get that lunch?" Although at this point I was tired, I figured the others should at least get something out of this trip other than sitting around doing nothing.
Sherlock looked over, and he then looked at the people behind the counter. "Please have the rest of Ms. Charles' clothes sent over to 2-2-1-B Baker Street. I'll inform the landlady, Mrs. Hudson, that you'll be dropping them by." Obviously it wasn't a service that they usually offered, but considering how much money they just spent, the manager makes it clear he's more than eager to keep in Sherlock's good graces by agreeing, taking down the address quickly and asking if there's anything else he needs. "No. But I will remember this store for the future." He says before striding out as if he owns the place, definitely having a haughty demeanor.
John hesitated with me, not sure exactly what to say or do, and then he motions. "We'd best go before he leaves us here." He says with a smirk, putting a hand on my back to propel me out the door to the sidewalk, where Sherlock was on his phone. And if I had to guess, he was talking to a certain Mrs. Hudson about his delivery while simultaneously summoning a cab.
Once we were all back inside the cab, I relaxed a little, resting my head back slowly. I was in the middle again, almost as if this was my natural place, between the two men, providing a link between them almost.
"Those clothes smell atrocious." Sherlock finally says after a few moments, glancing over at me. I was getting the feeling that smells were very important to him. "Very distracting, we'll have to have the whole lot washed."
"Now hang on a second." I objected, frowning at Sherlock. "They just smell like new clothes, it'll go away. I'm not going to let you decide everything for me, Sherlock. You can't just demand I wash the entirety of my brand new wardrobe just because you don't like the smell." I was a little irritated with those types of demands and figured it was time for me to put my foot down.
Sherlock looked a little startled as he looked at me, frowning as he tried to figure things out. John cleared his throat a little. "Though, to be fair, it is always recommended you wash your new clothes before wearing them." he says gently, but it didn't make a big difference.
Finally, after watching me for what seemed like a very long time, Sherlock nodded a little. "My apologies, Sofia. Of course, I had no right."
The conversation from earlier about women getting their way crossed my mind and I had to struggle not to smirk, just nodded a little. "Thank you, Sherlock." And to prove he was forgiven, I leaned against him for a moment, resting my head against his shoulder before straightening in my seat.
The cabbie was obviously paying attention to this and he smirked a little. "Careful, looks like you got yerself a girl, knows what she wants, eh?" he asks with a little snicker.
It was John that spoke up though. "I hardly think that's any of your business." He says with a small frown shot at the cabbie.
And then something rather odd occurred that made me giggle a little. Almost simultaneously, both Sherlock and John reached out and took one of my hands in theirs, both frowning at the cabbie as if to warn him off of me, and for some reason it struck me as funny. I started out giggling, then laughing a little, squeezing both of their hands as I looked at them each in turn, seeing looks of confusion, before I just shook my head. "You two are so similar sometimes.." I reassured them both with a smile, squeezing their hands, relaxing quietly. Even though they were both aware the other held one of my hands, neither of the Baker Street boys let go of mine and I was alright with that.
It didn't take us long to get to Angelo's, and this time John was the first one out, smirking at Sherlock and offering me a hand out. I had a feeling that this was sort of a game with them, seeing who would be quicker to get out and stick the other with the cab fare. I took John's hand and got out, releasing it once I was out. It's not that I didn't appreciate the gesture, it's just that I wanted my hands for myself after having them both occupied during the entire journey. It wasn't long until Sherlock joined us, and the three of us went inside, Sherlock holding the door for John and I before we were all shown to a corner booth by the window. Once again, I was in the corner with John on one side and Sherlock on the other.
A somewhat tall, round man approached the table with a broad grin, slightly balding. "Sherlock! It has been a while since you and Dr. Watson have come here! It is so good to see you!" He said enthusiastically, shaking Sherlock's hand firmly.
After shaking Angelo's hand, Sherlock nods a little. "Angelo. Nice to meet you again.. this is Sofia Charles. She will be living with us for a time, so I'm sure you'll see her with us more often." He says quietly, and then looked over at me. "Sofia, this is Angelo, the owner and former client."
"It is a great pleasure to meet you! This man..." Angelo looks at Sherlock, squeezing his shoulder, making the detective look distinctly uncomfortable. "If it were not for this man, I would have gone to jail!"
"You did go to jail." Sherlock points out, and then sighs. "I was able to prove that, at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder, Angelo was on the other side of town breaking into houses." He explains to me, sounding as if he's had to explain this more than once. "Angelo was the main suspect at the time, so while he did to time for breaking and entering, he was not convicted of murder."
Angelo seems rather pleased about this and he nods. "Anything for you, Sherlock.. you and your friends, on the house!" Apparently his good will now extended to me, and John just shook his head.
"I feel awful always taking advantage of him." John admits once Angelo is out of earshot, leaving us to look at our menus.
Something had occurred to me as I watched their interactions, and I looked between the two before looking down at my menu. "So.. is that what you do for a living? Investigate murders and such?" I hadn't actually asked before, and besides saving my life, I realized I had no clue what they did for a living. John was a doctor, but he seemed to do little more than follow Sherlock around. Of course, it could be wildly different since they seemed intent on looking after me for the moment.
John smirks a little. "He solves crimes, I blog about them and occasionally work at a local surgery. Have to pay the rent sometime." he says with a little shrug. "Sherlock will explain, he loves that part." he jokes, looking over the menu.
Sherlock rolls his eyes, sighing a little. "I'm a consulting detective. Which means that when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me. John is modest, he is extremely helpful, both providing a sounding board from my deductions and providing me with a medical opinion." He says as he puts his menu off to the side, turning to watch me instead.
Everything made a little more sense to me now as I observed the two men. "I see. I should have guessed it would be unique. So am I one of your cases? I know I was out of it for a while.. if I had to guess, it's been two weeks or more since you rescued me." I pointed out as I looked between them.
"Mmm. Our last case was the one you were involved with, yes. Still not completely shut, I've been working on that." It was obvious to me then that he must have been able to multitask quite efficiently, one part of his mind probably always working on the case.
A waiter came by and took their order, though I wasn't entirely sure what to get, so I just chose the first thing that looked good on the menu, leaning back in my seat. "We forgot to stop back at the Pharmacy.."I mumbled quietly as I realized we sort of skipped that in the ride over here.\
"Well, this is within walking distance of Baker Street, and there's one on the way back." John pointed out as he looked over at me with a comforting little smile.
Nothing else was said for the moment, but an alert message plays, causing Sherlock to pull out his phone, arching an eyebrow at the text.
"Lestrade?" John was learning the different looks that Sherlock got, and this one was definitely related to Lestrade.
"That Detective Inspector that came to talk to me?" I asked as I looked between them.
A small nod from the detective as his fingers flew across his keys, texting back to him apparently. "Yes. Interestingly enough, it has to do with you, Sofia. It seems that your wallet was found in an unrelated drugs bust. Since your name was on it, it was brought to Lestrade. Cards and identification were still inside, it was found with a few other wallets, presumably from pick-pockets." he says simply, before tucking his cell phone away to look up at me and John.
I had to admit, I was a little surprised at that. "Wow.. that will make things a little easier. Finally, a stroke of luck." I said with a small smile. "So I guess we'll go there after lunch, then." I offered thoughtfully, conversation ending as our food is brought, and silencing all of us as we ate.
-oOo-
A/N Wow, that turned out longer than I thought it would. Next chapter, Plot! And Mycroft. It will probably be a much shorter chapter, so I will try and get two of them up in one night. Thank you for everyone who has read so far, and I apologize for how long it took me to get this part up. Other fics and holidays have taken my attention.