Finally I have chapter 3 up! Sorry if it seems a bit short or anything! Chapter 4 is going to have a bit more action in it than the others so watch out for it. Also, before chapter 4, I will be writing a short Johnlock fan fiction so keep an eye out for that!
"Here we are, ma'am. 221B Baker Street." She opened the door, stepping out into the light down pour of rain. She slipped the taxi driver the required cash and retrieved her bags, turning around just in time to be confronted by a little old lady. "Hello there," the lady chimed, making her way to her with an umbrella up over head. "Mrs. Hudson I assume?," Eve answered, giving her a welcoming smile. "Oh yes, yes," Mrs. Hudson replied, offering her a bit of room underneath the umbrella in which Eve kindly declined. "Which one of the boys do you belong to?," Mrs. Hudson inquired. She paused, taking a moment to process the question. "Oh. Eh-hem...," she muttered, a bit of heat rising to her cheeks, "Neither one of them actually. I am one of their... Cases I guess." Mrs. Hudson gave a slow nod, her smile shifting into a look of concern, "Oh. Alright, dear. No worries then. I am sure one of the boys can share with you anyway."
"Right this way," Mrs. Hudson directed her, leading her up the staircase to her room. They both paused a moment, standing outside the main door of the flat. "How many rooms are in this place?," she asked, flashing a glance upwards. "Oh only two," Mrs. Hudson replied, knocking on the door, "In this flat at least. But if you want, I can share my basement with you. There isn't a whole lot down there and I keep an extra bed, desk, and dresser. You know... Just in case Sherlock ended up destroying his own. Surprised he hasn't yet." Both her and Mrs. Hudson waited for someone to open the door to the flat yet no one seemed to come. "Huh... I guess they went out somewhere. Maybe chasing another case. Sherlock likes to keep himself busy. Thank goodness I keep a spare key."
The door handle jiggled a little before twisting, pushing open to reveal the cluttered room. Eve stepped inside, gripping the handle of her bags as she gazed about, observing the large living room space. Ahead of her sat a fireplace, accompanied by a chair and a couch facing each other but angled slightly towards the door. Next, her eyes skimmed over the desk pushed against the tall windows that lead out to the outside world, seeming to be piled up with books, files, and papers and a stray computer among the mess. There were other things as well - The kitchen which the table was occupied with lab material and supplies, more likely a chemistry bench. The whole atmosphere of the room seemed a bit misty, almost dark but homey. Oddly enough. "They have uh...," she paused, allowing one more skim of the room, "an interesting place." Mrs. Hudson giggled lightly, walking to the fireplace and dusting off the top, "Yes they do indeed. I just hope they can keep it up with a lady around. Now follow me, I will show you to the basement."
She followed Mrs. Hudson to a door opposite of what she assumed was Sherlock's desk, the door seeming a bit hidden from the rest of the room. Being beside a bookcase gave it that hidden illusion. "Right down this way." She descended the steps, this time the wooden planks groaning faintly underneath her way as she made her way down into the dark. Lights flickered on, revealing the small room that was out of the way of the rest, a single smaller window covered by a pale curtain. Just like Mrs. Hudson had said, there was a bed, a desk, and a dresser, all perfectly placed to give a warm placement to the room. A red patterned rug lay in the middle, covering a great expanse of the hard wooden floors. Her eyebrows arched, making her way to her bed as she placed her bags down. "This is perfect, Mrs. Hudson, absolutely perfect."
By the time she had finished unpacking her bags and getting everything settled, which didn't take long, the sun was beginning to set and Sherlock and Watson were still not back. Maybe she would have a look around. She reopened the door that lead down to her room, peeking out into the living room where it was completely silent. Somehow, she enjoyed the odd place, or she had the feeling that she would. Eve stepped out and made her way to the fire place, noticing the skull set on top of it. Mrs. Hudson had warned her about touching it. Apparently it was one of Sherlock s favorite. She snorted lightly in amusement, expecting nothing less from the far-from-normal detective. Eve turned just slightly, next noticing the violin that rested on top of the cupboards. Mrs. Hudson had also informed her that Sherlock enjoyed his violin as well and not to lay a finger on that. There were a lot of things here not to touch. Things on his desk, his chemistry lab, things in his room but that was rather obvious. The bathroom? Where did Mrs. Hudson say it was at? Eve walked over to the main door, twisting to knob and peering at into the hallway and luckily to her left, she the caught the shine of the metal sign reading 'bathroom'.
She pressed her hands against the counter, enjoying the cool touch against her bare hands. Eve starred into the mirror with a low exhale, green oculars starring back at her. Her rounded yet feminine complexion seemed paler than normal, especially against the rich brown locks that draped around her features. The tresses fell down to her shoulders, bangs swept to the right and tucked behind her ear to get a better look at herself. She leaned back and slowly lifted her shirt, revealing her undergarments at the healing scars that mangled her smooth, pallid skin. The deepest, however, still required to be covered by a bandage just in case something was to happen. She sighed, pulling her shirt back down.
"Enjoying yourself?" Eve jumped and spun, gripping the edge of the counter. Sherlock stood in the bathroom door way, pale blue-green eyes fixated on the mirror. "The attacker did a lot of damage to you didn't he?," he inquired before turning around and shutting the door behind him. The edges of her lips pulled down into a frown as she followed after, wondering just how long he had been standing though and how she had not noticed. She stepped inside the flat, glancing about yet seeing no sign of Sherlock. Where was Watson. "If you are wondering about Watson, he will be up in a few minutes. He went down to get some tea," Sherlock spoke up, as though reading her thoughts. It sounded like it had come from the kitchen. She appeared from around the corner to not to her surprise, Sherlock was seated on a stool, examining something beneath the lenses of a microscope.
He looked up for a second, arching a brow before returning to what he was doing. "I can see that you are already settled, judging by the way you were wandering about. Did Mrs. Hudson give you her basement?" She gave a slow nod, "Yeah she did. Nice little place." He replied with a quiet 'mmm', focused on the microscope. "What... Are you doing?," she asked, stepping forward. "Examining material I obtained from the window sill at the hospital. Lucky for you, Watson and I have an idea on who your attacker is."
As though on Que Watson opened the door, shuffling into the flat with dirty blonde hair slick with water, the shoulders of his jacket darker than the rest of the material. Still raining. She turned back to Sherlock, wondering why he wasn't wet from the down pour. "Oh hello." Eve redirected her attention back to Watson, offering him a welcoming smile. He moved over to shrug off the jacket, placing it over a chair. "I see you are all settled in then. Excellent," he spoke up, joining her and Sherlock in the kitchen. "Quiet you two... I am trying to concentrate here. Have your boring little chat some place else," Sherlock muttered underneath his breath before falling silent. "Well alright then," Watson sighed, turning to her with arms crossed over his chest, "I will meet you by the fire place."
The chairs were rather comfy. Plush and warmed by the faint flame that flickered behind the screen of the fireplace. Her eyes found the skull again, its ghastly countenance faced towards the kitchen and not her. John took the seat opposite of her, re-attracting her attention to the blonde. He leaned backwards, resting his elbows upon the arms of the chair as he casting a glance towards her. "I think we should wait for Sher-" - "Just go ahead," Sherlock vocalized, causing John to sigh with a hunch of his shoulders. "Alright then," he muttered, sitting up, meeting her curious gaze. "Sherlock and I have a hunch on who your attacker may be." Eve sat up slightly, her muscles tensing as she shifted to cradle her chin in her delicate palm, eyebrows arching above two glowing optics. "However... We have a plan to draw him out," John muttered, his tone a bit on the dull side as he slouched once more.
"What would it be?," she questioned immediately sitting completely up. She had a feeling it would involve something dangerous. "I am sure it won't be that bad." Sherlock appeared at John's side, gripping the back of the mans chair as he fixed her with an observant gaze. Was that a hint of a small pulling at his lips?