A great majority of the day was spent at Bart's Hospital. Sherlock had been there longer than Darcie since she slept in a little longer. About six fifteen, Darcie threw the navy scarf at Sherlock.
"Come on," Darcie called. "We are supposed to meet John at seven."
"One minute," Sherlock muttered still sitting there with his scarf hanging off his head and shoulder.
Darcie watched him stay there for twenty more minutes. All the while, Darcie was calling his name in different voices and styles. "Sherlock… sherLock… SHerLock… Sir Lock of the Shers… Dipstick… Peabrain… SHERlock… Purple people eater…"
Deciding that wouldn't work, she moved to his side. "Sherlock," She poked his shoulder. No response, "Oi, Sherlock," she poked his cheek. That didn't work either.
Without another word, she grabbed the slide and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall. Darcie turned to Sherlock who was now watching her.
"Why did you do that?" Sherlock growled.
"You said one minute; it's been twenty. Come on, we've got to go meet John." She handed him his coat.
They headed hailing a cab. As they sat there, Sherlock decided to speak. "You didn't have to break the slide, Darcie."
"Yes, I did. You were ignoring me." Darcie casually commented.
"I was working." He looked out the window as the cab turned on to Baker Street.
"Don't care," Darcie got off the car to see John at the door of 221.
"John," Sherlock greeted after paying the cabbie. "Thank you."
"Ah, Mr. Holmes," John came towards the two dressed in trench coats.
"Sherlock, please," Sherlock shook hands with John who then reached to Darcie.
"Darcie," greeted.
"Doctor Watson," she smiled.
"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive," John turned his attention to the building.
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. She owes me a favor. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." Sherlock knocked on the door.
"Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?" John readjusted his cane.
"Oh no, I ensured it." Sherlock and Darcie smiled at John just as the door opened.
"Sherlock," an older woman exclaimed, "Darcie!"
"Hello, Mrs. H," Darcie greeted with a hug and Sherlock gave a brief one.
"Mrs. Hudson, Doctor Watson," he gestured to John.
"Hello," she smiled brightly.
"How do you?" John shook her hand.
"Oh come in," Mrs. Hudson gestured everyone in.
"Thanks," John looked down at his feet.
"Shall we?" Sherlock disappeared inside with Darcie by his side.
Darcie was first up the stairs with Sherlock, John and, Mrs. Hudson behind her. She waited for Mrs. Hudson to unlock the door. John finally got to the top just as Darcie opened the door.
She stepped in with Sherlock and John followed in. Darcie had to admit one thing. It certainly was a lot nicer than where they had previously been staying.
"Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed," John broke the silence.
Darcie began going through the boxes. Where was her stuff?
"Yes, yes, I think so." Sherlock looked around happily, "My thoughts precisely. So I went straight ahead and moved in."
John stopped speaking about cleaning the flat out. He realized that the so called "rubbish" was Sherlock's stuff. "So this is all…"
"He'll straighten up." Darcie promised shooting a look at Sherlock. He sent her a glare and tried to pull his things together. Darcie straightened. "So, Sherlock, where's my stuff?" She stacked a nearby box onto a different one.
"The top flat," Sherlock answered, "The area above John's, if he takes it."
"Wonderful," she sighed.
"That's a skull." John interrupted pointing out the skull on the mantelpiece.
"Glad he found a place for it finally," Darcie complained.
"Friend of mine," Sherlock said cutting across Darcie. "When I say 'friend'…"
Mrs. Hudson walked in bringing in a tray with tea set. "What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs below Darcie's if you'll need two bedrooms."
Darcie chuckled to herself.
"Of course we will need two," John defended.
"Oh don't worry; there's all sorts round here." She leaned in and whispered. "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones."
John looked to Sherlock then Darcie. He wanted them to confirm that Sherlock and he weren't gay. Sherlock remained oblivious but Darcie came to John's rescue.
"I don't think we'll have to worry about any of that, Mrs. H." She winked at John who smiled in gratitude.
"Live and let live," Mrs. Hudson dismissed them heading into the kitchen. "Oh, Sherlock, look at the mess you've made."
Darcie followed her into the kitchen. John fell into an armchair heavily. Sherlock remained in the main room. "Mrs. H," Darcie spoke to the landlady quiet enough that Sherlock, who was talking to John, couldn't hear. "Thanks for helping Sherlock out."
"Don't be silly, dear." She sighed. "If you and Sherlock hadn't helped, I'd be stuck with that horrible man."
Darcie smiled as Mrs. Hudson returned to the living room with her addition of the newspaper. "What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought they'd be right up your street, three exactly the same."
Wanting to see the view, Darcie pulled back the curtains. "Four," she said seeing a car pull up to the curb.
Sherlock joined her to see Lestrade exiting the vehicle. "There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time."
"I'd say so." Darcie turned to face John.
"A fourth?" Mrs. Hudson whined worried.
Lestrade suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Where?" Sherlock wanted to get through this quick.
"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens," Lestrade breathed heavily.
"What's new about this one?" Darcie cut in.
"You know how they never leave note?" Lestrade managed to get his breath.
"Yeah," Sherlock and Darcie said at the same time.
"This one did. Will you come?"
"Who's on forensics?" It was a good question. Darcie knew Sherlock was particular about who he had to work with. He didn't play well with others…especially ones who bugged him.
"It's Anderson."
"Lord, give me strength." Darcie said in disgust.
"Anderson won't work with me," Sherlock grimaced in agreement with Darcie.
"Well, he won't be your assistant."
"Will you come?"
Sherlock looked at Darcie. She smiled and shrugged like "what are you going to do about it".
"Not in a police car, I'll be right behind." Sherlock turned his back and went to the window.
"Thank you," Lestrade turned to leave.
"Later, Lestrade," Darcie called after him.
Once Lestrade arrived outside, Sherlock leapt into the air with clenched fists. He twirled happily. "Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh it's Christmas!"
Darcie held out Sherlock's scarf and coat. He took his scarf putting it on. Sherlock slipped the coat on as he went into the kitchen. "Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food."
"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson said.
"Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" He turned to Darcie. "Come on, Darcie."
She followed him to the bottom of the stairs. He noticed she wasn't wearing her coat. "Not coming," he stated.
"There's a lot of unpacking to do. Just send me some pictures. I'll try to help out from here. I'll stock the fridge." Darcie messed with her fingers trying to seen preoccupied.
"Fine," Sherlock said. He handed her his card.
"Take John with you. He could help." She suggested.
Sherlock stopped hand on the door. She could see his mind working overtime. "I'll be in my room if you need me."
As she headed up the second flight of stairs, she heard Sherlock talking to John in the flat below. Upon arriving at her flat, she could see that the wallpaper wasn't as cool as Sherlock's but it was all hers. Darcie didn't have to sleep on the couch anymore. Mrs. Hudson had actually given her a bed…a real bed.
Her boxes were piled on a simple bed. It was nice getting to relax for a change instead of running everywhere. She had the chance to just be alone. Organizing her books, she out them in the shelves.
"Wo ho," Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door. "How about a cuppa? John and Sherlock left."
"Thank you," Darcie accepted it. She tasted it. "Oh, did you put sugar in it?" She asked.
"No, I thought you didn't like sugar your tea." Mrs. Hudson took the cup back.
"That's my coffee that I don't take sugar." Darcie returned to work.
"It's funny the things you forget." Mrs. Hudson sighed.
Darcie turned back to her. "Hey, it's oaky. Don't worry about it." She rested her hand on Mrs. Hudson's shoulder.
"You've grown up so much from that 15 year old girl that I first met. I can't believe you have to live with him till you're old enough to leave." She sighed. "I can't imagine the things he's been teaching you."
"Actually, I've enjoyed being with him. I never got to see my mother's side. Don't tell him but he's wonderful and a good man." Darcie released Mrs. Hudson's shoulder.
They kept working but the silence was broken by Mrs. Hudson. "What's this?"
Darcie looked over. Mrs. Hudson was holding a photograph. The picture was of a newly wedded couple smiling at the camera. "That's my parents." Darcie's voice broke taking the photo from her. "Sherlock gave it to me saying that he didn't need it to remember her." She looked at the woman in the photo. Her hair matched Darcie's. She was her mother's daughter through and through.
"I miss them." Darcie confessed.
Mrs. Hudson opened her mouth but Darcie's phone went off. She pulled it out. "Sherlock needs me. Thanks for helping."