Calvin woke up to a crash of thunder the next morning. She gasped at the noise that echoed throughout her flat, and pressed a hand to her chest to monitor her rapidly-beating heart. She had begun to sleep with the lights off again, and as the light from the next flash of lightning illuminated her room, her overactive imagination took over, and all sorts of monsters were now present in her room.
Calvin squeaked as she reached for the lamp, almost knocking it over as she struggled to find the switch. Bright light filled her room, easing her anxiety-ridden mind and calming her heartrate. She now heard the hard rain against her windows, along with the continuing storm sounds. Glancing at her digital clock, she learned that it was only three-forty in the morning. Funny, she'd fallen asleep much earlier today. Usually, it woud be a few more hours until she even got into bed.
Her phone lit up on the stand next to her, and she flung a hand over to pick it up and check the message. It was from an unknown number.
Hope you're feeling better, lovely lady. Don't miss me too much. By the way, I love the lakeside, too.
JM
Her eyes were only confused for a moment before she recognized the initials. She shrieked, throwing her phone across the floor where it broke into three pieces - back, battery, and phone.
He timed it. He somehow knew she was awake, her mind told her. Coincidences like that wouldn't happen with Jim Moriarty.
Scrambling out of bed, she charged past her half-finished painting of a lakeside and up the stairs to 221B.
She calmed herself slightly before entering the flat, knowing that Sherlock was probably awake. He was, plucking at the strings of his violin as she entered.
"What is it now?" he asked impatiently.
"Got a text from your boyfriend." Calvin informed him, crossing her arms after running a still-shaky hand through her dark hair, pushing her bangs back off of her forehead, which was cold with sweat. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her.
"I assume you mean Moriarty." he said, voice wary. "What did he say?"
Calvin thought of her phone, lying in pieces on her floor. "He said he hoped I was feeling better... and... and he commented on a half-finished painting in my flat." she told him, trying not to let her voice crack and show how scared she really was. "He's been in my flat. Either today or yesterday."
"Not necessarily and not likely." Sherlock disagreed, though he did seem at least a bit concerned. "He could just have a camera set up in your house. Maybe more than one."
Calvin frowned, it was a possibility and an improvement over what she had originally thought, but it wasn't a big one. "Wonderful." she said, and Sherlock noted her heavy breathing and pupils, which were extremely dialated, moreso than was needed in the dim lighting.
"Are you having another panic attack?" he asked her, standing up to walk closer. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"No... I'm not going to have a panic attack every time I get scared, Sherlock." she told him carefully, taking a step back from him. "I don't have a disorder." Sherlock watched her for a moment longer, not saying anything.
Calvin cocked her head up at him. "Soo... Can I stay here for the rest of the night?" she asked, not wanting to sleep or even be in her apartment at the moment. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the question.
"If I said 'no', you would still stay." he snorted, returning to his chair and picking up his violin to pluck once more. Calvin chuckled, and took her usual spot on the couch. Sherlock was turned towards her, eyes fixed on the floor in thought. Calvin threw one of her hands behind her head, the other crossed over her chest.
"Do you think that Moriarty has some kind of interest in me?" she asked Sherlock after a few moments of silence.
"Doubtful. Most likely he is contacting you to scare you, in hopes of effecting me." Sherlock answered, not looking up at her. Calvin accepted that, knowing that Sherlock was the person Moriarty was after. He targeted Calvin and John in order to get a rise out of him, to effect him. To scare him. It was all about Sherlock, but she wanted to know why.
"But it doesn't effect you." Calvin pointed out with a grin. Sherlock huffed, plucking the strings harder.
"No."
"Glad you care."
"You have John for that."
Calvin laughed, shaking her head. She said nothing for an hour, staring at the ceiling. She wasn't able to sleep, still feeling a crawling sensation over her skin at the thought of being watched by Moriarty.
"Why don't you sleep often, Sherlock?" she finally asked. He was still still in his chair, though now he was not plucking at his violin.
"It disrupts my thinking." he answered, as if the break in silence was completely expected. He countered with, "Why do you not sleep until the sun begins to rise? Or should I wait until I let you on today's case to ask questions."
Calvin shrugged. "It's the invasive questions that I answer for those." she said with a small smile. "I consider you my friend, you can ask whatever you like of me. I don't sleep until daylight because I am not tired."
"And to get the complete answer to that, I would have to use a case question." Sherlock said, looking up at her.
Calvin's smile widened and she nodded once. "Yes." she agreed, "But you can still ask me anything you like. I'll answer truthfully."
"But not completely."
"You catch on fast." Calvin winked at him and turned her eyes back to the ceiling. She had closed them, finally, as the sun was peeking in through the windows. It had been a few moments before she asked, "Going to watch me sleep?"
"You catch on fast."
OoOoOoO
Calvin woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs in the apartment. She opened her eyes slowly, and spotted John's back in the kitchen. She sat up with a yawn and a stretch, swinging her legs to the floor.
"Good morning, John." she said, coming up behind him. She spotted the six strips of bacon sizzling in one of the pans while sunny-side up eggs were in the other.
He smiled at her. "'Morning. I made you some breakfast." he said, slipping the bacon and eggs evenly onto two plates. He handed her one and she smiled gratefully at him.
"Aren't you sweet?" she said, pushing aside a few vials of chemicals to set her plate down on the counter behind her, John handing her her fork. She nibbled on the end of a piece of bacon.
"Aren't you going to ask why I slept here last night?" Calvin asked, finishing one piece and starting on the next. John looked up from cutting his eggs, unconcerned.
"What? Oh that's right, you don't live here." John teased and Calvin rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly. "I supposed that you weren't feeling safe in your flat. You're welcome here any time, you know that."
"Moriarty texted me." Calvin informed him, and his fork stopped halfway to his mouth. "He commented on the painting I was working on. He's either been in or can see into my flat."
John allowed the eggs to reach his mouth and chewed silently for a moment. "Well, that's not good."
"Actually, I'm quite excited to see him again." Calvin said dryly, reaching for a piece of wheat bread to dip into her yolk. "Have any ketchup?"
"What'd Sherlock say? And... what? No. For what?"
"For my eggs?"
John stared at her. "You're a bloody American, I swear to god." he mumbled, and Calvin barked out a laugh as she dipped the crust of her bread into the broken yolk. He repeated his earlier question about what Sherlock had to say about Moriarty.
"Doesn't care, I suppose." Calvin answered with a smirk. "He didn't seem too impressed, probably hopes I get kidnapped again so I don't bother him anymore."
John laughed humorlessly. "He won't get his hands on you again." he said, and Calvin saw something in his eyes that was a promise to Calvin that he would protect her. He remembered how small and helpless his friend had seemed at the hands of Moriarty, he was dead set on never allowing for her to be that afraid again. The soldier in him swore it.
Calvin glanced down at her plate with a knowing smile. "If he wants me, he'll get me, John." she said, her appetite suddenly gone. She played with the remainder of her meal thoughtfully. "But I don't think he wants me. He just wants Sherlock."
"He won't get either of you." John insisted, taking Calvin's plate and setting it with his in the sink. "And you're welcome to stay here if you're too uncomfortable to stay in your flat."
Calvin nodded once, saying nothing more and instead changing the subject. The thought of Moriarty was making her heart race. "So, where is the fabulous detective? Out on a solo mission?"
"No, actually, he's asleep." John answered, heading into the living room. The morning paper was on the desk, and he opened it to peruse the headlines. "Has been since before I got up."
"Hm, my sleeping patterns last night must have bored him. Imagine that." Calvin commented, leaning against the doorframe.
John snorted. "He never sleeps. You must have been exceedingly boring to get him to do something so mundane."
Calvin grinned, heading down the steps. "Let me know if you're going to solve another grand mystery later, I'll be up for a little bit of excitement that doesn't include having my life threatened." she said cheerfully, waving as she descended.
"No promises about the life threatening thing, though. We might go after a drug lord tonight or something." John called, and Calvin chuckled. She headed for her door, which was still ajar from her frantic escape earlier that morning. She stepped in warily, staring around the room and checking every closet and crevice for signs of someone else having being there.
Of course, even if he had been there, Moriarty would have left no clues unless he wanted to. Calvin went for her room last, going so far as checking under the bed before declaring the space clear. Of people, at least, she had no idea about cameras. Calvin picked up the three pieces of phone on the ground and pressed them back together, turning it on and noticing a crack on the screen.
There was only a text from one of her old flatmates waiting for her. It was Christofer Mack, the one who had become the head chef in a very prestigious restaurant. He was inviting her to their other flatmate, Chase Sheffield's, performance of Wicked. Chase was the understudy of Fiyero, and would have the chance to take the role only for the night because the normal actor's wife was in labor.
Bring some friends, if you have any. Annabelle, Saria, and myself will all be there and we have FRONT ROW tix. (three extra for you if you have friends) Please come - we miss you.
Calvin smiled at the bit of teasing in the text, and glanced up at the ceiling. She wondered if John would like to go. She already knew Sherlock's answer. The show was tonight and Calvin was sure that there would probably be a case to solve. She decided to ask anyway.
Entering her living room, however, she felt watched again.
"Hello?" she called into the empty space, only to have her phone buzz in her hand. Unknown number.
Hello, Diana. -JM
Calvin felt her body begin to shake, nausea taking over her stomach as her legs failed her and she stumbled to catch herself on the wall. She gripped her phone, her eyes blurring with tears as she read the text. It was too much.
Don't panic, now. -JM
was the next text to buzz through in her hand. She needed to get out of here. She felt trapped within these four walls of her living room, helpless, under the microscope. She hurried to the sink to empty her breakfast into it. She turned on the water when she'd finished, washing out her mouth rapidly before sinking to the floor in fear and pain.
Her shoulder tingled, her chest felt heavy, and her eyes were unfocused.
"Get out of my head." she said into the emptiness of her flat. She was not surprised when the next text came.
I'm not in your head, pretty lady. Just your flat. -JM
"Jesus Christ."
Just call me Jim. -JM
Calvin felt her body begin to tremble, bringing her knees to her chest and heaving in what felt like big gulps of air, but were really shallow breaths. Black spots danced in her vision, and she forced her lungs to take in more air.
"Stop it."
To her surprise, he did. No more texts signed JM came in. Calvin wasn't sure if he was really in her flat or if he was just playing with her, but she had no intention to find out. Scrambling to her feet as best she could, she drank some water straight from the tap to help calm her down.
Glancing at the stove clock, it read 3:45. It had been three hours since she'd come down from 221B. Time moved different when she was having an attack. Calvin had been trembling on the ground for three hours. When she headed for the door, John and Sherlock were coming in.
"Bonjour," Calvin said, leaning against the staircase with a smile. "Where were you lot."
"Out on a case. Sorry, I came to your door but you didn't answer. I guessed you went out." John apologized and Calvin shrugged.
"I was painting with my earbuds in." she lied, covering up yet another panic attack. "Hey, did you want to go see a show with me tonight? I have front row seats to Wicked at the West End."
"No." Sherlock said immediately, heading up the stairs.
"I knew that. I was asking John." Calvin told him with a chuckle, following him up the stairs. John shrugged.
"Sure. Can I bring Angeline?" John asked, speaking of his new girlfriend that he had started dating a few weeks prior. Calvin smiled and nodded.
"You are invited, Sherlock, just to be clear." Calvin said to him as he began throwing his coat and scarf onto the place where Calvin usually sat, as if discouraging her from staying long by sitting there.
"What for? Mindless entertainment?"
"You'd rather sit here and mope while you watch bad telly?" John said, rolling his eyes. Sherlock huffed, picking up the newspaper.
"Shame. You'd get to meet my family." Calvin said, baiting Sherlock slightly. He glanced up.
"You don't speak with your family." he dismissed.
"I think I've mentioned before that my friends are my family, Sherlock... or did you miss that?" Calvin teased, pushing his coat aside to sit on the couch, much to his irritation. "I'll treat this like a case and you can ask me a question."
This caught Sherlock's interest somewhat. He seemed to be considering it.
"And, Sherlock, there was that slight lead today about the area around the West End." John added from the kitchen. That caught Sherlock's interest more.
"I can go there any time for that." he dismissed, though he seemed just a tad more hesitant this time. He was wondering why they even wanted him to go.
"It'll be fun, Sherlock. Come on." John goaded and the detective huffed.
"No." he growled again, his final answer. Calvin shrugged.
"That's fine." she said easily, smiling as she stood up. "I suppose that I've bothered you two enough for now. Annabelle will send us a town car around seven to take us to the West End to meet them. Do look nice." With that, she headed back down the stairs to head outside to sit on the porch. She would get ready later, right now she needed some serious fresh air.
OoOoOoOo
I meant to get this out four hours ago in time for Benedict's 37th birthday... but alas I did not. I'm sorry it took me a few days! I was having trouble writing it. Bah.
Sooo next chapter you guys get to meet Christofer, Chase, and Saria, the three other roommates of Calvin before she moved in 221C. They would have a lot of information on Calvin, Sherlooooock. Why won't you gooo
Anyway, it's late I'm tired, so I'll leave you be. I love all of your reviews and favorites and follows, and I appreciate them so very much! Thank you for enjoying my work! I enjoy it too:) Don't forget to let me know how you liked this chapter, as well as contribute anything you'd like to see or think you're gonna see in the future. I love you all!
Jess