When Sherlock returns to the flat, he sees John unpacking both bottles of beer and a few bottles of wine from his bag. One bottle goes in the fridge with the beer and the other bottle of wine he puts in the cabinet. "Planning on getting Sophia drunk?" He asks skeptically as he puts down the bag from Angelo's on the table, holding a bouquet of pink and white tulips, frowning a little as he tries to remember if they even have a vase.
John glances over, eyebrows going up. "Flowers?" he asks in surprise – bordering on shock – before he walks to the other room to retrieve a vase and fill it with water for Sherlock. "And no, not planning on getting Sophia drunk, but she's rather high strung. She's taking a bath at the moment. Why tulips?" He asks in confusion as he looks at it.
"White tulips convey apology, and hope for the future, while the pink convey a sense of deep caring. I thought it was appropriate and roses are so cliché." Sherlock says thoughtfully before he puts the flowers in the vase, arranging them carefully. "I can smell the bath oil – where did that come from?" he asks as he looks over at John with confusion.
Making a small nod, John starts to get out plates and such for the food. "That smells quite good. And the bath oil came with the things Anthea brought the day Sophia woke up. I think it suits her." He decides with a small nod of his head.
Considering that for a few moments, Sherlock nods. "It does, her hair products have a similar scent." He says thoughtfully, seeming a little distracted as he looks toward the bathroom for a moment, listening as he tilts his head to the side slightly. Finally, he decides something, looking at John for a few moments. "We have made it quite clear, verbally speaking, that we want Sophia here. However, we've been stepping on eggshells around her, making sure she has what she needs but not what she wants. Her insecurities may stem from the fact that she doesn't FEEL like we want her here. I've observed that women are quite different, they place more emphasis on feelings. And given that Sophia has little else to go on, feelings would be more important to her I imagine." He says quickly as he shifts his eyes to focus on John.
As John tries to process the rush of information Sherlock just gave him, he blinks slowly and his brows draw together slightly. "I hadn't thought about it like that. Neither of us are very good with women, are we?" he asks in surprise as he looks at Sherlock, before he smiles a little. "We need to tell her what's going on. She knows we're hiding something from her. If she had volunteered for that program Mycroft told you about,t hen she knew about it, and there's no sense in hiding it from her." He says quietly as he looks over a the bathroom quickly in concern, taking another deep breath and running a hand through his hair for a moment, busying himself with the dishes as he tries to figure a good way out of this.
"She's not ready." Sherlock decides, then he looks at John. "We may need to halt our investigation for a day or two. Perhaps keeping Sophia here is unwise." Looking around the flat for a moment, he turns back to unpacking the boxes from Angelo's, then he throws the bag away.
"What are you suggesting, Sherlock?" John asks in confusion as he looks at the detective, whose thought process seems harder to follow than it normally is, which is saying something since most of the time John doesn't have a clue what he is thinking.
"I don't know!" The detective exclaims in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Women are your area of expertise, John. And you're a doctor, shouldn't you know how to.. I don't know.. soothe her?" He asks with a small frown, tilting his head a little, "She's getting out." he announces as he hears the sloshing of water.
Sighing a little, John watches Sherlock, trying to retain his patience. "If you haven't noticed, Sherlock, I have not been very successful in any of my relationships. We'll just have to muddle through. Maybe we should just ask her." He points out, shaking his head as he finishes setting the table and opening up the food.
~oOo~
I could hear when each of the men came back, and I closed my eyes as I listened to the cadence of their voices and their footsteps, tilting my head back against the back of the tub. Their voices were just low enough to be outside my range of hearing, but I tried to block it out anyway. They were agitated about something, and I had a feeling it had to do with me. Finally, noticing my fingers were pruning and the water was cooling, I decided to get out, taking my time to dry myself off and dress again before I extinguished the candles and put them back, draining the water out of the tub and cleaning it out.
With nothing else to do that would keep me in the bathroom, I stepped out nervously before heading toward the kitchen where I smelled food. "That smells wonderful..." I said before I stepped fully into the kitchen, then once I did, I gaped a little, staring at the scene before me.
The table was set – actually properly set – though the take away boxes in the middle ruined the effect a bit, and a bouquet of tulips were in a vase in the middle. "Those are lovely." I finally found my voice to say, motioning toward the flowers lamely.
"For you. As an apology for my behavior." Sherlock said with a slight bow of his head and upper body toward me, before he motions to the table. "We should eat before it gets cold." He said before sitting down in one of the chairs.
Although it takes a moment for him to respond, John moves to the middle chair to hold it out for me. "I think that is the first time Sherlock has ever insisted on eating." He says with a small smile. "Must be your influence, Sophia." He waited until I sat down and then helped me to push in the chair a bit, then went to take his seat, getting some food and passing the containers around.
I help myself to food from a few of the containers. Chicken, pasta, even some rolls. All of it looks and smells delicious, but something seems off with the two boys to either side of me. "What's going on?" I am already on edge over everything, the suddenly odd, quiet behavior of the two is not helping. "Thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful." I add as an afterthought as I remember my manners.
John sighs a little as he finishes a bite of food. "We were just discussing your case a little. I know I told you we might tell you when Sherlock got back, but... We don't really have any new leads. You've been through a lot, and it's only been a few days. You're obviously still not settled, and we don't want to do anything that will upset you further. We were talking, though..." He trails off as he considers how to phrase it, looking down at his food for a moment.
Instead, Sherlock picks up the strain of conversation. "John told me had had joked with you about going on holiday, and I agreed that perhaps a day or two away from London might not be that bad of an idea. Not long, but Scotland Yard is investigating as well, and though they are generally incompetent, a day or two away will not matter as much in a case such as this one. This is not a sprint, this is a marathon. In order to catch the men who were behind what was done to you and the other women, we will have to have a bit of patience. It's what John was urging at least." The detective said with a small nod toward his colleague before he turned his gaze to me.
For a moment I think about this, and whether or not I want to leave London right at the moment. It's not like I felt entirely comfortable in the flat yet, and I didn't like being trapped inside and told I was in danger the entire time either. So for a few moments I sat quietly, taking a bite of the very good food. "Where would we go?" I finally asked, looking between them for a few moments.
"We hadn't actually thought of that." John says with a small smile. "Could go up to lake country or even farther to Scotland. Could go to the coast, it's fairly nice this time of year." He notes as he looks over at me. "Is there any place you'd like to go?"
I glanced between the two for a few moments, noting that it looked like Sherlock wanted to say something but was holding it back. "I don't know... I am fairly sure Scotland has coastline.. so could combine those two." I pointed out lamely with a little smile, before shrugging. "I just don't know."
Sherlock looked between John and I before finally speaking up. "Well, perhaps we should do some research, see if there are any entertaining spots. We can hardly decide when we know nothing about the places or if they are even pleasant. However.. my family does have a home up north." He offers, before getting up and moving to the counter, bringing down three glasses. "John, you forgot the wine." he scolds before he opens the fridge and retrieves the bottle, opening it easily and pouring some into each of the three glasses before bringing it back to the table, setting them down gently in front of each of us.
"Thanks..." I took the glass and took a small drink, eyebrows going up for a few moments. "This is good.." I know I sound surprised when I probably shouldn't, but I am surprised. Neither of them looked like a wine connoisseur. I doubted very much that Sherlock drank a lot, and John seemed more of a beer at the pub type of man. Not that I consciously could remember what any of that looked like, but that's the impression I got at least.
"Someday, Sherlock, you will tell me more about your family." John says firmly, poking his fork in Sherlock's direction before he takes a drink of the wine. "I do know a thing or two about wine, Sophia." he says with a small smile. "Though I'm sure Sherlock knows more than I do. That seems like it should be semi-useful knowledge."
Sherlock nods as he takes a small drink of his wine as well. "Yes. It's quite good. And yes, I do have knowledge of all sorts of alcohol's, it's been quite useful more than once. I see no reason to talk about my family any more than necessary. They are irrelevant." he says in a firm tone as he looks between John and I for a moment before dropping his eyes to his food.
Listening to the conversation and watching the two interact makes me relax a little since they seem to be more normal now, and things have settled back down. "Well, after dinner we'll just have to see what is out there, I suppose. Maybe you could show us where your family's house is..." Looking over at Sherlock for a moment, I smile a little, hesitantly. I'm realizing just how mercurial the detective can be, and it makes me a little nervous. But I still like being around him. The events of the day just rattled me in general.
"Yeah, we'll look after dinner. Eat up, Sophia." John said in a firm tone but he smiles at me as well, obviously concerned for me. Of course, he is a doctor and eating is one surefire way to get me back to some decent strength.
With everything that happened today and the nice bath, I have to admit that I am very relaxed and somewhat sleepy, but I continue to eat, not realizing how much wine I'd been drinking until I pick up my glass and notice it's empty. "Oh. That might not be good." I say with a small giggle as I look at the glass.
Arching an eyebrow, Sherlock nods. "Perhaps not." he says before he gets up and gets a glass and fills it with water, exchanging it for my wine glass before he, oddly enough, starts to clear away the food to stash it in the fridge. Which is blissfully free of anything that is not edible by humans, now that his own fridge is up and kicking.
John shakes his head and he finishes his food, getting up and clearing the plates. "Come on, lets move this to the couch, and we can look up whatever we need to look up." He says as he rinses off the dishes to at least make sure they are easier to clean later.
Seeming curious about my potential intoxication, Sherlock returns to my chair and offers his hand to help me up, catching my elbow when I sway a little. Apparently I didn't drink, because one glass of wine was going to my head. Helping me over to the couch, Sherlock handed me the water. "Drink." He says before he adds, "That scent really does suit you." He says as he leans over, resting his head beside mine and taking a deep breath before kissing my cheek and straightening to go to his laptop.
John can't help but snicker a little as he comes into the living room. "If the smell of roses is the key to making Sherlock more docile, I'll pick some up every bloody day." he mumbles to me as he sits down with his laptop with a little smirk, putting his feet up on the table. "Alright, then.. lets see what we can find."
This took me a little longer than expected, but I hope that you all enjoy the evolving relationship of the three. I have to admit, the idea of the smell of roses having some sort of instant calming effect on Sherlock amuses me. I doubt it would actually work, but the thought is amusing at least. :) I hope that you all enjoy this, and thank you for reading!
Comments/Reviews welcome!