During the next few days, Calvin noticed an onslaught of people visiting 221B, not of whom she reognized. However, most of them left within five or ten minutes of being in the apartment. She had been actively avoiding Sherlock for the past few days, though she heard him whenever he went out with John, and Watson came to check on her a few times a day, developing a kind of heightened need to protect her since the Moriarty incident.
She was flattered, and thought it was cute. John was a great friend to her.
Though she was trying to keep away from Sherlock for a little while, concentrating on reconstructing her cool persona and, hopefully, making him forget his suspicions about her anxiety disorders. She was convinced that if he figured it all out that he would be disgusted with her.
One day, however, three teenagers came to her door, looking for Sherlock.
"Hello?" Calvin said, wary, as she answered the door. John would have just texted her to let her know that he was coming for a visit, Mrs. Hudson would call for her, and Sherlock, well, he'd just barge in.
As the three young men spotted her, their eyes bulged and immediately knew that they were at the wrong flat.
"Uh, hi, um, we're looking for, uh, Sherlock Holmes? We need his help." one of them stated hesitantly, not being prepared for a woman at the door.
"That one will give you more trouble than his help is worth, boys," Calvin said with a smile, leaning against the frame of the door and glancing at her ceiling. "Obviously, I'm not him. But I'll take you upstairs." They parted to let her through and followed her up the stairs to Sherlock and John's flat.
"Hello, boys." she said, entering the room. "I have a few clients for you." Sherlock turned and looked the three over, unimpressed. John waved to Calvin, who sat next to him in the other armchair.
"Well, don't waste my time." he barked, and the teenagers began to explain.
"We have this website. It explains the true meaning of comic books, 'cause people miss a lot of things." the forerunner began, and Sherlock immediately became disinterested. "But then all the comic books start coming true!" The teen finished quickly, hoping to catch Sherlock's interest again.
"Oh, interesting." Sherlock said, turning back to them.
"How accurate are the imitations?" Calvin asked, thinking the exact same thing as Sherlock. The boys turned in surprise.
"Almost completely identical to what happened in the story arcs." one of them said. "It ooks exactly like the original panel did."
"Is this like LARPing or murder?" she continued, leaning back in her chair. "Are they just reenacting battles or is Gwen Stacey hanging from the London Bridge - neck snapped?"
The boys seemed startled by the comic book reference. "Maimings and murders." they clarified for her and she looked up at Sherlock. "Interesting." she agreed. He narrowed his eyes at her for interrupting.
She turned back to the boys with a grin. "Just to be clear, Gwen Stacey is not hanging from the London Bridge by her foot, is she? I believe my brothers would be simply traumatized, nobody needs to relive that moment in comic book history."
They smiled. "No, ma'am." Calvin smiled back at them, and winked. Sherlock interrupted her with a series of rapid-fire questions, finding out locations, names, circumstances, and what comics the maimings, murders, or heists had come from. Sherlock ushered them out impatiently after he'd gotten everything he needed.
"I didn't know you had brothers." John commented, interested in her past. It took Calvin a few seconds to gauge how much she could tell John about her past with Sherlock around. She didn't want John to figure out any of her secrets, either, but he was the lesser worry.
"Two older brothers, one older sister, and a younger brother and sister." Calvin clarified, shedding light on her rather large family. "Benjamin, Samuel, Anastasia, Camden, and Violet."
"Big family." John commented, glancing at Sherlock as he paced the room. "Do any of them live in London?"
The answer was yes, that Benjamin and Violet lived in London, while the others had moved away for their jobs or families. She shook her head, however. "No," she answered. "But it's just as well. You wouldn't want to meet any of my pretentious siblings, John. I wish I hadn't met them." Calvin was hiding her siblings' close quarters to herself because she honestly did not want Sherlock sniffing around them to find information.
Of course, if he found out on his own, that was just as well. She just didn't want to give any freebies. He had their names, that was something. Her siblings were all-too eager to share in their sister's failure as a person.
The only good thing that her siblings ever did her was that they passed on their inheritance from their dead parents onto Calvin. She hadn't received any of her own, being the outcast and leaving home at sixteen, but her siblings were all very well-off. They pitied Calvin, and signed their (sizeable) inheritance to her.
Calvin obviously resented it, but money was money, and she now had a fortune in her bank account.
John shrugged. "Harry and I don't get along, either." he offered.
"Come along, John." Sherlock interrupted, grabbing his coat and heading out the door.
"Wait a minute, I'm coming!" Calvin called, and Sherlock reappeared, displeased.
"No, you're not. I called for John. Not you." he answered stiffly.
Calvin crossed her arms. "You owe me. I lost my job because of you."
"Yes, well, you didn't seem so devastated the other day." Sherlock answered cheekily, and Calvin chuckled under her breath.
"Okay, Sherlock, how about this; for every case you let me tag along on, I will answer one question that you have for me. Any question, within reason, of course." she said smoothly. She saw Sherlock debate behind his green eyes, weighing the options and benefits.
He stepped forward. "Conditions?"
Calvin grinned. "The questions have to be five words or less, you cannot directly ask me 'why I call myself Calvin' or the like, one question per case, and I can be as cryptic as I like as long as I answer the question." she responded, her grin widening. "Yours?"
Sherlock sized her up. "Seven words. You must answer truthfully - do not lie to me - no matter how personal the question is, I can ask whatever I like as long as it conforms to your conditions, I can ask my questions at any time and they do not expire, and the conditions are subject to change as long as both parties agree." he said quickly, and noticed that John was currently writing down the conditions being outlined.
"Six words." Calvin said, extending her hand to Sherlock, to finalize the deal. He stared at her for a moment before clasping her hand and shaking it firmly. He drew her closer, not letting go of her hand.
"First question," he said in a low voice, "Why do you paint?"
"It's a creative outlet, as well as an emotional one." Calvin answered, glancing down at their still-clasped hands. That was all she was going to tell him, and when he realized this, he released her and turned quickly to head down the stairs. Calvin smirked at John, waiting for him to put on his coat before following Sherlock down the stairs alongside her.
OoOoOoOo
The case was solved in only a few hours, Calvin coming up with the psychological background of the criminal - who had been reenacting heists, and kills, detailed in X-Men comics - while Sherlock figured out the rest, claiming that he already had deduced everything that Calvin was informing him of.
"So, are you now another one of 'Sherlock's Helpers'?" Sally Donovan's voice asked from behind Calvin as she headed out of the Yard with the two men.
"Begrudgingly on his part, yes, I suppose I am." Calvin answered easily, turning to see the woman leaning, arms crossed against the wall by Lestrade's office.
"Here's some advice for you - don't get involved with him." Sally told her, pursing her lips. "He's trouble, and he'll get you into trouble."
Calvin thought back to the last few weeks with Sherlock Holmes, her shoulder wound tingling as she felt the imagined weight of the explosive on her chest. "Yes, I know."
Donovan raised an eyebrow. "And that doesn't bother you?" she asked.
Calvin shrugged. "Well, yes, I suppose it bothers me. But I don't think in the same way that it bothers you."
"Do yourself a favor, don't get too involved with him. There's something... not right about that one." she said sourly, looking after the man. "A freak, he is."
Calvin's eyes narrowed slightly at the use of the word. It echoed all across her childhood memory and made her skin crawl and heat up with anger. "And why is he a freak?" Calvin asked in a tone that hinted at her displeaure, but, with great self-control, she kept it smooth.
Sally scoffed with a smirk. "No one normal can do what he does."
"And so you call him a freak. Because he doesn't fit your biased definition of 'normal'." Calvin said coldly, and Sally blinked. "Because he's extraordinary."
"What, you fancy him or something?" Sally mocked, and Calvin's anger showed through her disguise at the accusation. Her eyes swept over Donovan's form, pausing at her face and hands.
"You're jealous." she decided, cocking her head and smirking dangerously. "Completely and utterly jealous that someone is better than you. How long did it take you to get into this position, lieutenant? Ten years? Honestly, impressive. I applaud you for your achievement, truly. But that does not give you the right to call someone a freak. Sherlock Holmes may be irritating and he may have a ranging superiority complex, but he is not a freak. Don't you dare call anyone a.. a freak because of your insecurites about your own abilities."
Sally glared harshly at Calvin. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she demanded.
"A freak." Calvin spat, turning on her heel and marching out of the Yard with as much bravado as she could muster. She wasn't used to giving dramatic, angered speeches and wasn't exactly sure how to exit. She stumbled on the way out.
"God, you're right. Freak number one and freak number two." Donovan called after Calvin, causing her to blink and flinch at the name. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic to her.
"I'll say the same thing I said to Watson; one day there will be a body lying on the ground and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there!" she continued.
"Hopefully it'll be yours!" Calvin shouted back, before realizing what she had just said to a high-ranking police lieutenant. Her eyes widened and she hurried to where John and Sherlock were waiting for her.
"What took so long?" Sherlock demanded, eyeing Calvin's heavy breathing and flushed cheeks.
"I may have just... inadvertedly threatened Donovan?" Calvin mumbled, embarrassed that she had let her temper get the better of her. All this practice in keeping her nervous side in... and she still wasn't very good at reining in her anger, especially when it came to being called a freak... or anyone being called a freak for that matter.
"I am going to have to formally apologize to her." she muttered, unhappy with herself. To her surprise, however, Sherlock was slightly smiling down at her.
"She doesn't matter." he said nonchalently.
"What happened?" John asked, trying to hail a cab.
"I don't like name calling." Calvin answered with a smile. "Least of all, the name 'freak'."
"That's what she calls Sherlock."
"Yes, I know," she answered, climbing into the cab that stopped on the curb first. "And I am also newly christened 'freak', as it seems." John looked scandalized at the news, however, and glanced back to the Yard with irritation.
"She doesn't matter." Sherlock repeated, and Calvin smiled as she stared out the window, nodding in supposed agreement. But no matter if someone 'mattered' or not in your life. It still hurt. Though she had long become used to being a freak, it would always sting little Diana, still curled in a terrified ball deep inside her mind. Nobody was called a freak in Calvin's presence, it was her duty to protect others, as she was not protected.
OoOoOoOo
Heading home, it was still light out. John immediately cracked his laptop and began typing the blog entry about the case they had just solved.
Calvin collapsed on the couch, cracking one of the books from Sherlock's bookshelf in order to pass the time. She didn't want to be alone right now, and though Sherlock sent her an irritated look, he didn't voice it.
He glanced over John's shoulder. "The Geek Interpreter, what's that?" he asked suspiciously. Calvin looked up, amused.
"It's the title."
"What does it need a title for?"
John only smiled at the question, continuing to type the blog entry. Sherlock huffed and backed away into the kitchen.
OoOoOoOo
Yes, Calvin has a bit of a temper. It mostly is tested with bullying, name-calling, stuff like that. She's protective of other people because of her past. But her mouth can get her in trouble, as well as make her sound overwhelmingly childish and rude. Ah, a horrible flaw to have. Donovan is not going to like her.
It's 3am right now. I'm tired but I wanted to finish this for you guys.
There's gonna be a few more chapters before Irene Adler comes into the picture. And Calvin WILL be meeting her. And I'm excited but also nervous, because I don't know how well I'll be able to write her. Research research research.
Thank ya'll again for all of your wonderful words of encouragement! You've gotten me to over 100 reviews and it really touches me that you guys like this story. Thank you so much, I appreciate all of you so much! 122 followers, as well! D'awwe!:D
I tried drawing Calvin yesterday but then I realized that I'm a writer, not an artist. Bah. Can't draw.
Anyway, I need to sleep now. I'm going to a concert tomorrow and I need to not be dead halfway through the set. Let me know what you thought of this chapter!
Love all of you!
Jess