Chapter One
She stepped out of the cab and pulled her large suitcase out onto the pavement beneath her boot clad feet. Pulling a few notes out of her bag, she paid the driver, giving him what he would see as a flirtatious smile, but it was simply her way.
As he drove off, cheeks a little flushed, she picked up her case and walked down the street. As she walked, a flash of light caught her eye and her head snapped back to where it was as she looked back to see what it was, not used to the city and all that came with it.
It was just a shop window, reflecting the glare of the sun. She could see the many people in the shop, bustling about, picking up seemingly random items of clothing, putting some back or putting it in a basket to take to the tills. Her own reflection caught her eye though, as it did most people.
On her feet were a pair of six inch block heeled boots, the boot itself going up to stop halfway up her toned and pale calf, the front mostly open, exposing her colourless skin, with six wide straps running horizontally all the way up to the top of the boots, silver buckles glinting in the warm sunlight. The top four buckles were hidden by her skinny jeans though, as they were pulled tightly over the shoes. The tight, black jeans ran all the way up to the top of her long and slender legs, ending at her narrow hips. Today she wore a black leather corset, hidden by her favourite black, leather bikers jacket, the long silver chain of her handbag slung over her head, the chain crossing over her ample chest, the dark blue PVC of the small, block shaped bag resting against the top of her left thigh.
Her straight black hair fell to her hips, the bright white highlights standing out a little more in the sun as a thick fringe cut across her face, leaving only her left eye visible, a curious bright green colour, rimmed with bold black, set against her deadly pale skin. Her lips were an interesting colour; a blue so dark it was almost black, but somehow soft, a metal lip ring poking out of her left spider bite piercings, the shiny black ball sitting against her skin, next to its matt black companion.
She tugged the metal running from one hole to the other on the inside on her mouth, the metal warm against her teeth. She smirked at her reflection and carried on down the street.
She didn't quite know why she was in London but she did know it was where she was meant to be.
She walked past a large gate and paused, looking back to it. Feeling the familiarity of the small tingle in the corner of her mind, she smiled slightly, walking through the gate, finding herself in a large green park, benches dotted around. She suddenly wanted to sit down and went to do so.
After a few minuets a man walked past. As he approached her bench, she saw him slow his steps, looking at her strangely. She looked up to him and smiled in recognition.
"Hello Sam." She said to him. He was dressed smartly, a white shirt over black trousers, shiny black shoes on his feet and his not too long blond hair brushed back neatly, letting the world see his bold but soft featured face, his blue eyes shining in the mid day sun.
He looked a little embarrassed though, a pink blush tainting his cheeks. "I'm sorry, but have we met before?"
She chuckled slightly, remembering their childhood. "Gwehelog Primary school. You were one of the few kids who let me be." She still remembered the children from her old home; they used to be so mean. Then they learned to leave her alone. It was one of the many things she taught the people of Wainfield Village.
"Aven?" He said, the name coming to him now, eyes going wide. "Aven Ash?"
"That's me. How have you been, Sam?" She asked, a slight smirk on her lips.
Samuel Stone had moved away from the gossiping and tight knit welsh village after his mother had gotten a job offer in England somewhere. She was only eight at the time, Sam being nine.
"I've been well." He said, walking over to sit next to her, taking in her appearance. "I see you've changed a bit."
Her smirk grew at this, her eyes shining a little brighter. "Just a little bit. What are you doing in London, anyway?"
"I work here now, St Bartholomew's Hospital. Got a flat and everything. Still got the welsh accent though!" He replied, a friendly smile on his kind features as she laughed at his words. "And yourself?"
She smiled enigmatically at the small question. "Oh, you know, this and that. I think I may get myself a flat." She thought for a moment, frowning slightly. "May have to share though; London is hardly cheap."
"Hmm…" He replied, eyes going to the side before going back to her face. I wonder….he thought.
Reading his facial expression, knowing he was thinking about something, she asked, "What?"
"I know a guy…" He started. "But he's not really….normal."
"Neither am I." She replied, trying to hide her little smirk. If only he knew! "Go on."
"Well, he's looking for a flatmate." Sam explained.
She couldn't hide her knowing smirk anymore. Sound's about right. "Fancy introducing me?"
Sherlock heard the door open. He was in the lab which he usually worked in, even though he didn't actually technically work at St Bart's.
"Hey, Sherlock." He heard Sam greet him. Sam was a relatively smart man and had a little more tolerance for Sherlock and his odd ways than most people. However the almost silent clicking of heels told him that the man was not alone in his interruptions.
Sherlock glanced up, taking in the appearance of the young woman.
She was tall, with six inch heel boots only adding to her height, making her a just a little shorter than him. She also held herself to almost her full height; confidence. However, he also saw that the one eye that was on show was taking in all the equipment on the table. So she wasn't used to such high tech things. The bright green eye didn't widen or show any sign of wanting to look through the equipment like most people though, so she wasn't curious about it then. So she either knew what most of it was or was simply not interested. But then if she wasn't curious of the equipment, then why was her eye moving so fast? Possibly new to the area, the suitcase she had placed by the door confirming that she was probably staying around for a while.
He could see the tips of lettering in ink on the inside of her left wrist that was resting against the chain of her handbag, but he couldn't make out the word. Probably a name; sibling, mother or father, he decided.
He noted the piercings in her lip and thought that she most likely either had relaxed parents or she was rebellious. Coupled with her dark, attention drawing appearance he was leaning towards rebellious.
"Sam, can I borrow your phone?" He asked, going back to his work. His glance had lasted less than a second. "Mine's got no signal."
At the sudden words of the man at the desk, Aven's eyes snapped to him. She took a deep breath through her nose, scanning him over quickly. Definitely on the right track, she thought. "Tried the landline?" She offered.
He didn't even look up, though his thoughts of her confidence were confirmed. "I prefer to text. Sam?"
"Sorry, out of juice." Sam replied, shrugging slightly.
"Here." She said, taking her own phone out of her bag. "Use mine, if you want."
Sherlock looked up, noting that her eyes seemed a little brighter in colour. Trick of the light perhaps? He thought, taking the phone from the confident young woman. "Thank you."
"My pleasure." She said, smirk growing a little. "I heard you were looking for a flat mate."
"I am." He stated, knowing why she was here now. "Didn't take you long, Sam."
"Well, you know me..." Sam grinned, remembering their earlier conversation.
"So…?" Aven prodded a little, wanting the man to continue; she never was one to stand still for long, though she never rushed anything she did either.
"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We should be able to afford it between us." Sherlock explained, handing her back her phone after sending the message, putting on his scarf and coat after that. "We'll meet there tomorrow, 7 pm. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." He gave a polite smile and headed for the door. He was called back though.
"Aren't you forgetting something, sir?" She asked.
He turned back to stand in front of her, looking her in the green eye. "Oh, did I?"
"Yes." She replied simply, a smile still on her face. "I don't know the address. You haven't told me your name, and I haven't told you mine. I think we should at least know that much about each other."
"Sorry…" Sam chipped in then, though neither Sherlock nor Aven looked away from each other, locked in a staring contest. "I should have introduced you both."
"No worries, Sam." Aven said lightly, not holding out her hand to the taller man, knowing he wouldn't take it anyway. She introduced herself with a knowing smile. "Aven Ash."
Sherlock saw something different in her eyes; he wasn't sure what it was, but it wasn't right. She was starting to become a little uncomfortable under his gaze though, her bright green eyes loosing their little sparkle, going a shade darker in colour. She held his gaze though, watching as he walked backwards to the door slowly. "The address is 221B Baker Street and the name is Sherlock Holmes." He flashed her a bright eyed grin, winking to her as he left the room, shouting a "Good afternoon," to Sam.
Aven took in a deep breath, turning to Sam with a smirk on her gothic features.
"Yeah." He said, a smile on his own features. "Like I said; not really a normal guy."
"Oh, I'm sure we'll get on perfectly." She said, confident in her abilities; both to know what she needs to do and to judge a person. And she had him practically figured out already.