Chapter 20

The week came and went fast. Erika had spent the week being harassed by John about who his date was, to which she flat out refused to answer, and glared at by Sherlock for setting him up. Needless to say, she spent the week with a smug grin on her face.

Finally, Friday night arrived and John, Sherlock and Erika were all ready to go out. Sherlock had refused to wear anything but his normal attire while John had put on a decent suit and tie and Erika was wearing a short, black dress. All three piled in the cab, headed in the same direction but John and Erika got out first. She kissed Sherlock on the cheek and wished him luck. He grimaced and drove away as Erika and John stood on the curb laughing. After a moment, they turned and walked toward the building.

"You won't even tell me her name?" John asked, worried by her vagueness. Erika sighed, stopped in her tracks and turned to face him.

"I will tell you her name, at the same time I tell her your name; when I introduce you. Come on, I told her to meet us outside." They stood outside the little restraint for a little while, John tapping his foot anxiously, before a yell distracted them both.

"Erika!" They both turned to see Mary, dressed in a sea green dress with white heels and jacket. She smiled at her and waved before noticing John and suddenly becoming quite shy. She walked up to them slowly and Erika laughed.

"Hello dear," she said, kissing her on the cheek, as she had done to her friends when she was little. She then turned to address them both. "Since you've both been asking, John Watson, meet Mary Morstan."

"Hello John."

"Hi." Erika could almost taste the awkwardness in the air, so she motioned for them to go inside. They did so and she followed, raising two fingers to the waiter waiting to take them to a table. He smiled and nodded, showing them all to a small table I the corner of the room. She motioned for the pair to sit down and they did while she remained standing. She smiled down at the couple.

"Right, I'm off. Now enjoy yourselves my dears." She started to walk away but John's voice stopped her.

"What, you're not staying."

"No, I can't I'm afraid," she said, turning back with a smile. "Sherlock and I have another engagement, dinner with a dominatrix. I have to be there to ensure Miss Adler doesn't try anything on him. Well, nothing to bad anyways. Bye, have fun!"

And with that she was gone. The pair who remained at the table watched after her before turning to each other and laughing. "Well that was awkward."

"Yes, it was," John answered, paying careful attention to the past tense. He found that, in Erika leaving, the tension had dispersed and they were both at ease. He smiled and Mary did the same. Perhaps this date wouldn't be as bad as he'd thought.

Sherlock, however, couldn't say the same. He waited in dread for Irene. As much as he hated to admit, he did fancy the woman once, but now he couldn't shift the knot in the pit of his stomach as the guilt set in. What if he ruined things with Erika? He couldn't hurt her again.

He sat at a table against a wall in the restraint with his eyes closed, desperately trying to block out all the noise around him. The information her kept picking up was starting to overwhelm him as he had no one thing to focus on. Waiting anxiously, he began drumming his fingers on the table, putting his entire mind into a perfect recital of Romance No. 2 in F Major on the wood. He was halfway through when a voice interrupted him.

"I hope you won't mind me coming along." He opened his eyes and saw Erika smiling down at him. "I felt like an intruder with the others. Would you rather I left?"

"No," Sherlock answered a little too eagerly and pulled her down into the seat next to him. She smiled at him and looked down at his fingers, still drumming their rhythm. She stared at them for a moment before a smile crossed her face. "One of Beethoven's finest, don't you think?"

He smiled at her, about to answer when her eyes, turned to the other side of the room. "We have a guest."

"Hello Sherlock, dear," Irene purred, kissing Sherlock on the cheek. He remained icy but both saw him stiffen. She was wearing a short, deep blue dress with a deep neckline and open back. She had a thick, leather belt around her waist and a pair of high, black heels on. She smiled at Sherlock before turning to Erika. She straightened up and smiled slightly. "And who's this pretty, little thing?"

"Erika Butler," Erika said as Irene sat down across from Sherlock. "I'm the chaperone for tonight."

"Oh no dear, you're more than that by the way he keeps looking at you." Both women turned to look at Sherlock who was now staring intently at the roof. Erika smirked a little.

"Perhaps," she stood up. "I'll get us all a drink."

And with that she was gone. Irene leant forward and smiled at Sherlock who looked her in the eye icily. She laughed. "So who is the pretty thing, really?"

Sherlock was about to answer but Irene seemed to have seen straight through him again. The smiled on her lips faded as she spoke. "She's the one, isn't she?"

"What?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Everyone has one exception to who they are. John's straight and I'm gay, but we'd both have you in a heartbeat. You're asexual, she's your exception." Sherlock didn't say anything; instead he looked down at the wood on the table. Irene let out a sad laugh. "And here I was thinking it might be me."

"I'm sorry, Irene." Sherlock looked at her with genuine apology and Irene smiled sadly. It was at that moment Erika returned with three champagne glasses. Irene saw her and stood hastily, smiling slightly.

"Goodnight, Mr Holmes, Miss Butler."

"Goodnight, Miss Adler." Sherlock spoke and Irene began to walk away but Erika stopped her.

"I'm sorry, what's happening? Should I leave?"

"No, no dear," Irene said sadly. "You stay."

"But why don't you?"

"Because you're the exception," she said with a smile before she took a step back and kissed Sherlock on the cheek before whispering, "Cherish her."

Then she was gone. Erika stood bemused for a moment before turning to Sherlock. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing she didn't already know," he answered with a sigh. "Let's go."

"No." Erika pushed him back in his chair and sat down across from him. She picked up a champagne glass and raised it in a toasting gesture. "You still owe me a date."

Sherlock smirked before picking up one of the other glasses and raising it, gently tapping the glasses together. "I suppose I do."

Erika smirked and took a sip from her drink and Sherlock did the same. They ate and talked for a short while before Erika could see how irritated Sherlock was getting with everyone else being so loud. Eventually, she let out a sigh and stood up. He looked up at her, confused and she smiled.

"Come on." He didn't question her and followed her out of the restraint, leaving money on the table. She smiled as they walked along the road. Finally, Sherlock had to ask.

"Where are we going?"

"I know how you hate noise," she said with a smile. "And I could see how agitated you were, so I thought I'd show you something. It's not far."

She took his hand as they walked up and down streets, twisting through the buildings of London by night. Erika never let go of his hand, leading him as if her were a small child that could run at any moment, perhaps he was. Eventually, they came to a small, rundown building that might once have been majestic. She smiled and pulled him gently inside.

When they entered, Sherlock was amazed by what he saw. There was only one room but it was big and spacious. There was no light but he could still see the glittering of mirrors all around the room. Erika lit a candle in the corner and from the small light he could see the room was filled with boxes, of every size, shape and type. She smiled and came to stand by him. He looked down at her and she smiled slightly. "You showed me your home. Sherlock Holmes, this is mine."

Sherlock was speechless as he looked around the room again, taking in all the beauty in the dark space. Erika took his hand again as she spoke. "When we first met, back all that time ago, I was living here. Despite all the things I stole, there was little I could sell, so I didn't have the money to buy anything grand. This little space became my home. Then in the hospital, when I saw you again, I could resist being near you, so I left it. But now, I thought you might like to see."

Still amazed by the subtle beauty, Sherlock looked around the room. Erika pulled him around it and finally he found his voice. "What's in the boxes?"

"Look and see." With that permission granted, Sherlock approached a pile in the corner. He opened the one closest to him, a small black shoebox, and found it filled with old photographs, letters and drawings. Erika looked around him and down into the box. She smiled sadly. "These boxes are all I have left of them."

Sherlock picked up one of the photos and saw a man and woman holding a baby. The woman was tall and slender, not unlike Erika except she had gold hair that flowed down to her waist. She was wearing a long, loose dress that fell down to her toes. The man was dressed in suit. He was slightly plumper but still fit. He was also tall with dark hair cut short. Both were smiling at the camera joyously, looking down at the baby in the woman's arms. Erika appeared to be yawning widely in the picture. Beside him, Sherlock heard a sad laugh.

"They always told me I'd be the greatest of all people and live a long and happy life. Look at me now." Sherlock reached down to the bottom of the box and, from under all the stacks of paper, pulled a small toy rabbit. It's fur, once white, was now yellowing and it's button eyes looked like they had been stitched on again. Erika reached out and stroked it's head softly. He turned to see her eyes glistening with tears.

"They were right, Erika," Sherlock said, closing the box again. Erika looked up at him sadly, confused by his words. "You will be the greatest of people and live a long and happy life. You just need to…"

"Forget the hurt," Erika finished with a smiled. "I will, if you help me."

Sherlock nodded and leant down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She smiled against him and, after a moment, he pulled away. "Let's go home."

She nodded, and they walked out the door, leaving the hurt behind.