Two months later, Sherlock found himself to be incredibly bored. He had finished what John had called 'A Study in Pink' on that damn blog of his and there was nothing to do. The skull was gone (Mrs. Hudson had taken it again), John had hidden his gun somewhere (Sherlock was too lazy to get up and find it), and John had refused to try Cluedo again after their last disaster (Sherlock still claimed that the victim was the killer). Sherlock had even hoped for a while that Mycroft would show up so that he could taunt someone and get a new case. However, his brother was nowhere in sight, and John was on a date with some new woman he met on the tube who was a secret green-thumb, would most likely get cancer by the time she was forty, and felt guilty because she'd just put her dad in a nursing home. The time to deduce John's newest 'love' had been enjoyable, but it had lasted for only about ten seconds. With nothing to do, his mind automatically started to drift back to drugs.
Unfortunately, John had managed to get a sniffer dog in the flat one afternoon when Sherlock was out and had found and destroyed all of his leftover cocaine and narcotics. He'd also managed to get Sherlock to try and quit smoking, so there were no cigarettes either. There was literally nothing in the world, much less the flat that interested Sherlock at the moment. He didn't feel like violin or breaking into John's laptop or getting up to go to St. Bart's and steal body parts. He was just bored. Just when he thought he was going to die from suffocating under the weight of his own mind, the doorbell rang. Sherlock almost yelled for Mrs. Hudson, being too lazy to get the door himself, but then he remembered that she was out on a date with a man who had at least three secret wives in three different countries. Sherlock liked to keep an eye on his friends, even if that meant stalking anyone who made more than thirty minutes of contact with them to find out just exactly who they were. John didn't know this yet, and Sherlock wanted to keep it that way.
His mind turned to the sound the doorbell had made. It wasn't really pressing and annoying, that would mean that someone who was bringing takeout was at the door. It wasn't timid either, like the times when a tourist would ring their bell hoping for directions. It wasn't any of his friends or acquaintances- they knew to either call ahead or come right up. That left only one solution- a client. Suddenly full of energy, Sherlock leapt up off the couch, darted around stacks of books and raced down the stairs, his dressing-gown fluttering behind him like a flag in the breeze. He pulled the door open, found no one at the same eye-level as him, so he looked down, especially when he heard a giggle. When he did look down, he found himself looking at Felicity Muller.
She hadn't changed much since the last time they'd seen each other. She was still dressed with an impeccable neatness, she still seemed to bounce with energy, and she was still the bright little girl that he found so interesting. Under the surface, however, Sherlock was pleased to see that the hidden pain and stresses from being bullied were gone, leaving her happier than before.
"You look quite ridiculous." Felicity tried to say it with a straight face, but she giggled again behind her hand as she looked Sherlock up and down. She was dressed in her school uniform and had her backpack on her shoulders. The only thing that was out of place was the fact that she wasn't in Sussex at her school; she was standing on the stoop of 221B, unaccompanied. Despite that, Sherlock was suddenly glad she was there. John would disapprove and want to call her brother, but Sherlock didn't mind in the least. This was entertainment. Felicity would not be boring. Sherlock reached up and made an attempt to flatten his hair, which was wildly curly from him burrowing into the couch, knowing that trying to straighten up would make Felicity giggle- and it did.
"Ah well, that's hopeless. Come in, I'm sure you've got a good reason as to why you are here, alone, and not in Sussex where you belong." Sherlock said, grinning to show her that he could care less that she wasn't in school. Felicity beamed, stepping inside. "Your eye looks much better," Sherlock commented as they climbed the stairs. It was true- the darkened splotch had faded almost completely away. Only a tinge of yellow remained here and there. Sherlock was pleased to see that he saw no other visible signs or strains due to injury on her.
"It's a lot better now," Felicity said simply, yet her tone was full of happiness. "And I think you'd be pleased to hear that my little trick worked." She added as Sherlock got the door for her, welcoming her into 221B.
"I can only imagine the reactions." Sherlock said as he took her coat and backpack, hanging them by the door on John's usual hook. Felicity giggled, face mischievous. "I hope you didn't send any of them to the hospital with heart attacks and aneurysms." He added, leading her to the kitchen and giving her a hand up to one of the bar stools so that she could sit at the height of the table. He cleared a spot that would be free of Petri dishes and test tubes as she elaborated on what happened.
"I showed up to school looking perfectly alright and I think those boys nearly went insane. I snuck up on them at recess and I could hear them panicking. Apparently three of them felt for a pulse, all of them not believing each other when they said I was dead. They think I'm a vampire now, come back from the grave to kill them. They haven't bothered me since." She said, sounding quite satisfied with herself.
"I applaud you. It was very frightening for the rest of us as well, but you pulled it off spectacularly. Tea?" Sherlock offered. He had already turned to get the mugs. When Felicity didn't reply, he turned around. She was curiously leaning towards the Petri dishes he'd moved, eyes narrowed as she surveyed the bacteria growing there.
"Is that giardia lamblia?" She asked, tearing her eyes off of it only to glance questioningly at Sherlock. Sherlock barely resisted the urge to smile as he turned back to finding the kettle. He didn't understand why he was so curiously fond of Felicity but he found that for once in his life, he didn't care that he didn't understand. He enjoyed not knowing. "Commonly found in creeks and rivers? Why do you have that, and shouldn't it be properly incubated?" She asked as Sherlock put the kettle on and sat beside her, bringing the dish back within her reach.
"Yes, it is, I have it from a case I solved awhile ago and yes, it should be. However, since I have no further use for it at the present, I'm going to study how colonies of bacteria grow and share the same space over a span of time." Sherlock explained.
"Just a span of time?" Felicity asked curiously. "No set end?"
"No, no set end to the experiment. I can't guarantee when John will get fed up with it sitting on the kitchen table and throw it away." Sherlock said, and Felicity smiled, leaning back in to study the tiny colonies of bacteria swathed across the dish. "Felicity, how did you get to London?" Sherlock asked, figuring he should at least have an excuse to tell John as to why he didn't send Felicity home straight away. In all honesty, he was very interested in finding out how she managed it. Officers would be stationed at bus stations and at the tube. If they saw her walking by herself, they would have stopped her to ask where her guardian was. Getting around them would have been tricky.
"Oh," she said, sounding slightly smug. She sat up straight again, drawing her attention away from the bacteria and back to Sherlock. "That's a long story. Where's John?" She asked, trying to deflect the question in a manner quite similar to how Sherlock would divert attention from himself. Normally, Sherlock would comment on it, trying not to grin, but her question was successful in distracting him.
"He's out on a date." Sherlock answered, hoping to keep the sour tone out of his voice. He could tell by Felicity's face that he wasn't successful, not in the slightest. "But he'll be more eager to send you home than I ever will be, so we'll need a good story to tell him when he comes back." He half warned, half suggested, and Felicity sighed, fingering her braid as if nervous- no, as if she felt guilty.
"I may have falsified a school document in order to run away from my horrid neighbor who was supposed to be watching me for the week while Charley went to do some army business." Felicity said evasively, giving Sherlock a shy smile. "Nothing interesting was happening in Sussex so I decided to take a trip to London." There was a moment where Sherlock just looked at her, secretly thrilled by her personality. He could remember frequently committing forgery when he was a child, and the memories were fond.
"Well, I hope you did a good job with the forgery." Sherlock said as the kettle whistled, and Felicity laughed out loud, half nervous and half excited. "And the acting, mind you. If your neighbor was at all suspicious the whole plan would have fallen through." He got up and poured water into their mugs to let the tea steep.
"If that wasn't my best act yet, my show of getting onto all the buses and tubes by myself definitely was. I find that I play the innocent, sweet little girl very well." Felicity said shamelessly as Sherlock got the milk and sugar. "Do you really think that John will send me home? I don't want to go." Felicity asked, sounding worried when Sherlock's back was turned. However, as he turned back around, her face was perfectly calm. She was already a brilliant actress, just like Sherlock had been. Children like Felicity learned how to hide their emotions very early on and for good reasons.
"I think I'll be able to convince him. Besides, the case-load has been lightly lately and I'm sure that he'd be glad to have the visitor. Are you planning on staying here for the whole week?" Sherlock asked, taking out his teabag and adding sugar to his tea.
"Will you have me for the whole week? I don't mean to put myself upon you." Felicity said, sounding excited and anxious at the same time.
"I would be glad to have your company." Sherlock said in the warmest tone anyone had probably ever heard him speak in. For the next two hours he let her run experiments in the kitchen as he hastily changed the sheets on his bed and cleaned up a few of the more questionable items in his room. It was no hardship at all to give his bedroom to Felicity for the week; he barely slept anyway and if he did, he usually slept on the couch. After that, he let her go through all of the books in the flat, including John's; he didn't think that John would mind. Sherlock was aimlessly plucking at his violin, half in the flat and half in his mind when John came home. Felicity was nestled into John's armchair, stacks of books nearly concealing her as she read through one of John's old medical textbooks. Neither of them looked up as John came in, and John didn't see her at first because he was toeing off his shoes, looking at the ground.
"No case then?" He asked as he undid the laces. He shrugged out of his jacket and went to hang it up when he finally noticed the tiny coat and backpack that hung there instead. For a moment he paused. "Sherlock," He called him, tone half bemused and half carefully controlled. "Why are Felicity Muller's jacket and backpack hanging here?"
"Because I put them there for safekeeping." Sherlock answered and Felicity looked up and around the stacks of books blocking her from view to see John standing by the door, gesturing to her tiny black coat and backpack.
"Oh, hi, Dr. Watson!" She piped up and John flinched with surprise, nearly dropping his coat as he spun around to find the source of the happy greeting.
"Felicity? Are you in there?" He joked, peeking around the stacks of books as he hung up his coat on the next hook over. Felicity's bright eyes shone through the stacks back at him, excited that he was back and excited that she was in London with her two best friends.
"Yes, hi! I hope you don't mind that I've been breezing through your textbooks- I find them really interesting." Felicity gave him a little wave from behind a book that was almost as big as she was.
"How long have you been here?" John asked, shooting a dirty look at Sherlock who was innocently plucking his violin, not looking at him. Trust to Sherlock to not look after a kid. For all John knew, Felicity could have arrived at seven this morning after he left for work.
"Only an hour or two…I think. I don't really remember- time flies when you've got your nose in a book." She said factually, smiling sweetly at John when he gaped at her.
"Where's your brother?" John asked, sitting in Sherlock's chair so that he was across from her. Felicity started to take down the stacks of books, putting them on the floor as she worked her way out of the chair.
"He's away on army business." She said, not looking at John as she carefully lowered a stack to the floor, her face unexpectedly smooth. "He put me in my neighbors care. Considering she is the most dull-minded woman I've ever met, I told her I was going on a school function for a week, sent a fake letter of notification to Charley, had Mrs. Millan sign the 'permission slip' and then I was off to London. Please don't be angry with me." Felicity explained, turning unexpectedly round and innocent eyes on John that could melt even Mycroft's heart. John chuckled, offering Felicity a smile. He knew exactly what she was doing, and he wasn't fooled by it. Instead, he found it oddly endearing.
"You are the best little actress I've ever seen- and I live with Sherlock." He remarked, and his laughter joined Felicity's giggling as Sherlock's fingers slipped off the violin, making a nasty sound at John's joke. "Very sharp of you, Felicity, but aren't you worried about your brother finding out? I don't think this is the best place for you." John continued gently when the two of them had stopped laughing. Felicity sobered instantly.
"Mrs. Millan discourages reading and experiments. She just expects me to watch the telly. I was bored there, I was stifled there. Can I stay here for the week? Please?" She asked, just barely masking the begging tone to her voice.
"A- a week?" John spluttered. "Felicity, I'm glad that you came here, I am, but I don't think this is the safest place for you! I might be at work, Sherlock always has his thoughts and experiments and cases and who knows what you'll find in this flat. I don't want you getting hurt on accident. Plus, how do you expect Sherlock and I to keep a secret like this from your brother?" John added, and Felicity fixed John with such a stare that he almost looked away. It reminded him of Sherlock's icy glares far too much.
"Dr. Watson," she started calmly, clearly preparing to throw some logic his way.
"John," John corrected automatically, and she lost her train of thought for a moment in surprise. Seconds later the firm look was back. It looked more cute on her face than terrifying, but John knew that her expression wasn't a reason to dismiss what she had to say.
"John," she said clearly. "Your concern for me is misplaced. I am not a normal child- that much is obvious. I am very capable of being on my own in an environment not deemed 'safe' for a child- that is how I spend most of my time. I am not so uneducated as to hurt myself on anything 'mysterious' I find in your flat. To address your concerns on my brother, you know as well as I that he only has my well being in mind. It is much healthier for me, mentally and physically, to remain here rather than with my neighbor, her two dogs, and her chain-smoking habits." Felicity rattled off grimly.
"Felicity, to be frank with you, Sherlock and I are bachelors. We're messy. We don't eat normally- Sherlock doesn't sleep normally, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable." John tried a different tack. Felicity smiled at him, suddenly looking young again.
"One time I ate my own experiment, I've slept on the roof of my house, and I live alone with a man only a few years younger than you. I think I can manage here." Felicity said, giggling at the look on John's face as he processed the thought of her eating her own experiment.
"Where are you going to sleep?" He challenged. John honestly wouldn't mind if Felicity stayed with them, but he was worried about how Charley would react if he found out. He wanted it to be obvious to Charley that Felicity had been safe if her brother were to discover where Felicity had been. John was fairly confident that he and Sherlock could keep Felicity safe, but at the same time he didn't want to risk hurting her.
"I've provided accommodations for Felicity, John." Sherlock interrupted, apparently done sulking at the 'actress' comment. "You can survey the area if you wish." He continued, gesturing towards the hallway.
"No, I trust you Sherlock, at least, I trust you here. What if you get a case? You can't just leave her here at home- Mrs. Hudson isn't here so she can't look after Felicity." John said, shaking his head.
"I don't need 'looking after'." Felicity retorted icily, but neither man looked at her. Sherlock was currently staring down John with the force of a few suns.
"You can't suggest that we bring Felicity with us, Sherlock." John said, understanding what Sherlock's intense gaze meant. "Sherlock," John reprimanded when Sherlock said nothing. "The danger? The running? The staying awake for 20 hours a day? The crime scenes? You can't expect that Lestrade will let her come with us. And what about Mycroft- he's been watching us like a hawk after your incident with the pills and the cabbie." John argued, trying to hold his ground against Sherlock's focused look.
"Oh, from A Study in Pink?" Felicity piped up brightly. "I read the whole thing online. Very interesting, that one. How lucky that some man who is a sharp shot with high morals just happened to be there to shoot the cabbie just in time." She said sweetly, innocently, raising her eyebrows at John when he looked at her in surprise.
"Let me take care of Lestrade and Mycroft, John. Even if I couldn't handle them by myself I have you and Felicity to win them over." Sherlock said, shooting Felicity a wink when John rubbed his forehead, exasperated. He was resigned to the fact that he was outnumbered and would probably lose this argument, but he had to try and win it for sanity's sake.
"What about the danger?" John pressed again. "You can't pretend that we don't go dashing around far faster than Felicity can run. In our last case I shot someone for goodness sake."
"Felicity, what do you do in case of an emergency?" Sherlock asked slyly, looking to Felicity. She rolled her eyes, her face going slack as if she'd been brainwashed.
"If the situation is appropriate, I hide. If not, I attack. If the probability of that succeeding is very low, I run and call 999 like a good little girl." Felicity recited, sounding bored.
"Attack?" John repeated, shocked.
"Oh, yes." Felicity said conversationally. "Charley trained me when I first started having problems with bullies. I'm rather ineffective on people larger than me, but I'm fairly accurate on those my own size. Why do you think my punch was so accurate from before?" Felicity smiled at John's surprise. John could clearly remember the satisfying crunch as Felicity had punched the bully right in the nose. Suddenly, it made sense.
"You see? Felicity is perfectly capable of handling herself and the both of us. I think she would make an excellent colleague and observer if a new case arises. If not, we have plenty of experiments going to keep us busy well through the week." Sherlock said dismissively, his tone leaving no room for discussion. John paused, looking between his flat-mate and the little girl who had (quite obviously to John, anyway) stolen his heart. He knew it would be useless arguing and he wasn't about to try and get a hold of Charley or the neighbor.
"Fine," John sighed in defeat. "But we're going to be really careful, alright? Promise?" John ordered, chuckling slightly when Felicity nearly bounced out of the armchair to hug his legs.
"I promise." She said sincerely, letting go. "I value your opinion as a doctor and an adult that I trust and I will listen to you and Sherlock regardless of if the current situation is dangerous or unsatisfactory for someone of my age."
"That answer makes me feel better." John said, trying not to laugh at her severe solemnness. "Now, when was the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday." Felicity said, wrinkling her nose. "Mrs. Millan made some nasty sort of pasta-salad to last us a few days and I was fairly sure that the mayonnaise she used was expired." She explained simply as John scoffed in disbelief.
"Come on, then," John said, steering her into the kitchen. Once the two of them had settled down over toast and jam, they got into a long conversation about John's medical textbooks, going into anatomy, biology and chemistry. Sherlock took that time to check his website and then his email. He wanted a case even more now than he did before. He wanted to show Felicity how having a mind like hers was a gift, it was fun even. If Sherlock admitted it to himself, he also wanted to show off just a little. Felicity was a genius, but she didn't let on that your conversation was boring her or that she'd seen a skill just like yours a million times before. She listened whole-heartedly every chance she had. Upon checking his email, Sherlock found an email from an old schoolmate. He despised the man, but he was proposing a relatively easy case. John and Felicity probably would have chatted all day if not for Sherlock getting up suddenly and going for his coat, eager to go and get the case started.
"I need to go to the bank. Coming?" He asked briskly, straightening the lapels of his coat, trying to keep his childlike excitement from showing on his face.
"Is it a case?" John asked without missing a beat. Sherlock gave a nod and Felicity slid off of her stool, instantly thrilled. John stood up too, looking cautious. "Did Lestrade text you?" He pressed, his cautious nature halting at the idea of taking Felicity to a crime scene where there would most likely be a dead body.
"No, this case was received via email from a client. Lestrade is not involved; there are no bodies, no gore, and no violence. Just a break in at a bank." Sherlock said in a disparaging tone. "Here," Sherlock said, taking Felicity's coat off the hook for her considering it was at least four feet above her head. He helped her into it with all the tenderness of a father, something that made John's eyebrows rise.
"Let's be careful, though. I know that you are extremely mature, Felicity, but think of me as your stand in brother. I'm just trying to keep you safe." John said as she bounced down the steps, for once showing just how much of a child she still was. Her long red braid made a light stripe against the dark tweed of her coat.
"I understand, John. At least, I'll try to." Felicity said seriously as John locked the door, Sherlock already hailing a taxi. "If we are being careful, we'll have to make up a good story as to why I'm traveling with you. We can't just say that I'm an observer." Felicity said thoughtfully as the taxi pulled away. She was sitting in the tiny middle seat between her two friends, trying not to show how utterly thrilled she was. She was on a case!
"You can be my niece, if you like. Family connections always seem safer and more logical to outsiders." Sherlock said, looking down at the little girl sitting next to him in the cab. Her feet didn't even touch the floor and she was peeking out past the two men beside her excitedly to watch London going by. However, she turned from the view, distracted, to look up at Sherlock.
"Won't they think it's odd that you are brunette and I'm a redhead? Relations often look the same." She said, brow crinkling a little in confusion.
"Relatives by marriage, not by blood, will do I think. Besides, I suspect that once we arrive at the scene I will give most observers something else to think about, as will you." Sherlock said briskly.
"I think he's right. Just put on your acting shoes like you did with me and they won't stand a chance." John said, and Felicity grinned, drumming her heels lightly against the seat in anticipation.
OoOoOoO
A/N: There you have it! The Blind Banker is in full effect! Is Sherlock too OOC? I'm so worried about that AGH :/
I still don't own ACD's original works or BBC's Sherlock
A million thank you's and hugs to my beta, louisuperwholocked on Tumblr!
Your reviews mean a lot to me, thank you all so much.