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CHAPTER 4 - Dancing On The Table

Sherlock hailed a cab, and had a few more firm reminders that I was to be kept an eye on at all times, and to be reported of any suspicious behaviors. Sherlock ignored the detective, Tabitha waved him off, and John reassured him everything will be fine. Before Sherlock could jump into the car, Tabitha pushed past him and slide all the way over. Sherlock blinked at her, but didn't say anything. He slide beside her, and John huffed as got in the passenger side in front.

"This is so beautiful," Tabitha breathed, looking out the window as they took off. Sherlock gave the cabbie the place to take them, than looked down at the wallet in Tabitha's hand. She ignored him and leaned in close to the window. She took in the sights and sounds of the city – she missed the city! Living in a small town for several years does that to a city girl. Tabitha really wanted to find that library. The library was the only place she felt safe and happy.

"Hm, all those people living out their boring lives," Sherlock muttered. "I see you got a visit from Mycroft already."

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The wallet was expensive, but a simple brown leather one that folded and fit in her pocket. By the way it looked, it held only a few things – a couple cards. Mycroft probably fixed her up with identification and a bank card. He liked the way the green shirt fit her skin and eyes. Her face seemed to be light up as she looked outside into the streets of London. He really didn't understand why she was so excited.

"Stop!" Tabitha suddenly yelled. The cab pulled up to a curb, and she opened the door. She jumped out and started jogging across the street, looking both ways as she ran.

"Go after her, Sherlock, I'll head home," John sighed as he rubbed his forehead. Sherlock huffed and got out, shutting the door behind him. The taxi took off toward their shared flat, and Sherlock went the way Tabitha did. He crossed the street, but lost sight of her. He went through the list of things he'd learned about her, and was just about to head off, but a hand grabbed his arm, and he turned abruptly.

"The library, Sherlock, it's… it's… wonderful!" She moved her hand down to grab his gloved hand and she pulled at him. She held onto his hand tightly as she pulled him through the crowded sidewalks toward the big building.

"It's just a building holding books," he said as they came to a stop at the stairs leading to the entrance. She huffed a bit from the jogging, but he was just fine. She wasn't used to running, it seemed. She may not be of use when going to crime scenes, he noted.

"Just a building with books!" she turned to him with a gasp. "Sherlock, a library is filled with other worlds, new information, old information, fantasy, science fiction, historical fiction, romance, the future, the past…" She sighed happily. "It's the only place I feel…. Normal. You know, relaxed and at peace. Surrounded by books."

He took a moment to think about that. Sherlock supposed he could relate – he felt mostly at ease and at peace when he was working on an experiment, or on a case. She smiled up at him innocently, and he sighed.

"We'll go inside, then," he said quietly, walking past her and up the stairs. She followed and they went inside. It was an older building, but Tabitha didn't mind that. The books were from all over the course of history. Sherlock watched her study bookshelf after bookshelf. They were in there for about 20 minutes when his phone beeped.

Where are you? JW

At the library SH

That's where she ran off. JW

I thought you were coming to the morgue? Mx

I'll be there in a few moments. SH

Tabitha and I are going to the morgue, and then we'll be home. SH

Sherlock put his phone back in his pocket. Tabitha came up to him with an armload of books. He quickly deduced it was a wide variety: three contemporary romances, one biography (Cleopatra), two mystery thrillers and three books of poetry. He raised an eyebrow at the load in her arms. A few began to tumble down, but he caught them quickly. She looked at him sheepishly.

"Might as well have something to do while you guys are busy, right?"

"You... you don't want to go with us?" John always wanted to go. She seemed to like his job – why wouldn't she want to go? She had seemed eager to run around the area for the library. What did she want now?

"Oh, god no. With you, I'll probably get shot or targeted by a psychotic criminal consultant!" she laughed. She made her way to the counter and asked how much it would be for a card, and if they took bank cards. Sherlock placed the books that were in his hands on the counter and stepped back as she got the card. She most likely just loved books in general. They were her 'mind palace' in a way, except with much more useless information.

"Thanks for waiting! Let's go to the apart – flat!" she called, carrying the cloth bag of books out with her.

"We have to go to morgue," Sherlock stated, hailing another cab. "You're paying for this next one," he commented with a smirk. She shrugged with a smile and followed him into the cab. Tabitha seemed nervous all of a sudden, bouncing her leg and tapping her finger nails on the edge of the door. He checked for other signs – was she watching for someone, were her eyes on something outside? No, it was just nerves. Being around dead bodies? Most likely.

"Do you like Molly?" she suddenly asked. She kept her eyes out the window.

"Yes. She is one of my friends," he answered automatically.

"I mean, do you find her attractive, mentally and physically?" Tabitha asked. She could see St. Bart's down the street. Sherlock looked back at her, just realizing what she meant. He thought about it.

"Well, she is very intelligent, but physically she does not arouse me," Sherlock answered. He knew of her crush on him – it had been evident for a long time. When he was in hiding, they had spoken about those issues, and as much as it hurt him to reject her, she had taken it rather well. Their relationship was very good at the moment, even though Sherlock could tell that Molly would watch him longingly when she thought he wasn't looking.

"Ah," Tabitha said with a nod. The cabbie pulled up in front, and Tabitha paid quickly. Sherlock had already gotten out of the car and headed toward the door. He stopped just as he was about to go in to see her walking quickly to catch up with him, holding her bag of books over her shoulder. She grinned up at him and pushed some stray strands out of her face. Sherlock smirked back at her. He swung around and led her toward their destination.

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It was exactly like the show had set it up as. While Sherlock mumbled a conversation with Molly over a dead body, Tabitha decided to stay by the door. Dead bodies weren't her forte – he'd rather them be alive when she interacted with them. She watched the two chat, and saw how Molly would stare at him for longer than necessary. Molly would than shake her head and go back to what they were talking about. She wondered if they had a conversation about her feelings when she helped Sherlock face his death.

"Tabitha, come here, please," Sherlock called out without looking up.

"I don't do dead bodies."

"I need a second pair of eyes," he commented, bringing his head up sharply. He stared into her eyes and she felt her stomach decide to do cartwheels. Her breath caught, and she caught Molly studying her as she stared. Tabitha felt herself blush, but covered it with an answer.

"Fine, but I can't promise anything useful," she mumbled, coming over. She peered down at the older man on the table. "What am I looking for?"

"I know he was poisoned, but there isn't any proof. I need you to look over the body for anything that shouldn't be there, something that I missed." Tabitha snorted and went to work studying the body. "What was that for?"

"You rarely miss anything, so it's entertaining when you do," she answered with a wink at him. Molly made a sudden comment about needing to do some paperwork. "Molly! Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Tabitha. I'm in Sherlock's custody until they figure out who I am and why I'm here." Molly stared at her, and stuttered a 'nice to meet you' and 'I'm sorry for that'. Tabitha decided to chat with her later – she'd love to get to know Molly on a bigger level than the show had given.

Sherlock went to work at another table in the room as she studied the body. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, considering that she had never seen a dead body before. She sighed and crouched down to look at the man's profile. She studied the side of his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, and made her way to his ears. She stared a moment, and then made a move to get up. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a tiny white object sticking from behind his ear. If she hadn't taken a second look, it would have just blended in with his skin.

"Sherlock!" He rushed over. "Is that something?" She pointed at the small white object. He brought some tweezers over slowly pulled the small paper-like sheet out of the dead man's ear. He brought it up to his face and studied it for a moment. He quickly headed back to his spot at the other table and begun to experiment with the object. He never answered her, but since he was working hard to figure out what it was, Tabitha knew it was important. "Alright, then, I'll just strip and dance on the table."

"Yes, do that," Sherlock mumbled, eyes completely focused on the evidence. Tabitha sighed, amused, and smiled as he suddenly stopped and looked back at her. He blinked for a moment. "What? Was that sarcasm, a comment towards the fact that I am ignoring you? Because that is not the case – I am working …"

"Just sarcasm, I'm not offended you're ignoring me. I like watching you work," she commented with a chuckle. Sherlock seemed to almost blush. "Can I sit by you?" Sherlock had a thoughtful look on his face as he glanced at the empty stool next to him. He gestured to the stool and went back to work. Tabitha quickly went over and sat down. She tried not to get too close, but still be able to see what he was doing. She watched for a few moments, than Sherlock stopped again and turned to her to study her.

"Have you done that before?" he asked curiously, going back to staring into a petri dish. Tabitha watched him put a drop of some liquid onto the specimen. She wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"Done what?"

"Dance…" he cleared his throat. "On a table…" he suddenly glared at the specimen he was watching, and his cheeks turned a pale pink. He wanted to know if she had over stripped and danced on the table! She started to laugh, and bent forward to hold herself as tears formed in her eyes. She coughed to catch her breath, and looked up again. Sherlock was still glaring at the petri dish, but not moving.

"I'm sorry, I find it funny you're curious. Yes, I have. I was 22, and I had just broken it off with my boyfriend at the time. My friends invited me over to their house to drown my sorrows, and I ended up in my underwear on the table," she answered. She propped her elbow on the table and her chin in her head. She smiled at the funny memory as she stared into space. "It was fun! We broke the table, though."

"Oh," Sherlock answered. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

"What?"

"Alcohol. Did you turn to it when your husband was killed?" Sherlock was back to work. Tabitha felt herself hesitate for the first time. Sherlock noticed and turned his body toward her. "I'm sorry. John says I need to get even better at knowing when to stop…"

"No, it's fine!" Tabitha said with a shaky smile and waving it off. She took a breath and settling back onto her stool. "Yes. I drank a decent amount when T.J. was killed. My therapist helped me find other ways of dealing within a few months. I'm lucky I had her to help me."

"Good," Sherlock said with an honest smile. "Ah ha!"

"Do you have something?" Tabitha asked as Sherlock jumped up and begun to put in his coat and scarf. She stood up next to him and followed him to the door, making sure to grab her bag.

"I have everything!" he cried with pride.

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