The warm water of my shower did wonders to wash away the early morning call out. I lathered my hair and hummed as I rinsed it before climbing out of the bath tub and wrapping myself in a towel and my hair in another. I flicked the radio on in my bedroom and got dressed in a grey pencil skirt and blue blouse with white collar and cuffs. After applying a small amount of makeup and putting my thick chocolate hair up in a loose ponytail over my shoulder, I sprayed with perfume and stepped into some moderately high heels.
I drove to the train station and got the tube to Barts, where I greeted Carol as always and headed straight for the labs this time. Molly was waiting for me, her usual bright and sunny self.
"You look tired." She stated as I sat down and turned to look at her.
"Charming," I replied more sharply than I'd meant to.
She blushed and stammered, "I didn't mean you look rough or anything!"
I shook my head, "Sorry Molly, I'm just tired from this morning. I'm not used to early hours callouts. So are the samples here?"
"Yeah, I already took a look, they look fairly straight forward," she replied, gesturing towards a microscope.
"OK, I'll get stuck in then," I sighed and shrugged off my coat, replacing it with a labcoat.
I was fully absorbed in my work and didn't notice that someone had joined me in the lab until they sat down beside me.
"Jesus," I cried and startled, "Where did you come from?"
Blue eyes peered back at me curiously, "I've been in here for over an hour, how have you not noticed?"
"You're very quiet," I stood up and went to collect another sample.
"Any ideas on the disease then?" he asked coolly.
I nodded, "Viral hemorrhagic fever, just need to find out which one. How do you know about that?"
"I was there last night," he replied, "My god you're not very observant are you?"
"You must have been in a Hazmat suit," I reminded him, "Everyone looks the same in hazmat suits."
He looked at me directly in the eye, "And yet I knew it was you and you didn't know it was me."
"Sherlock, isn't it?" I asked, sick of this pointless conversation.
"Sherlock Holmes."
"Dr. Jessica Townshend," I held out a hand which he shook firmly.
He turned away then and focussed on his own experiments. Wow, nice social graces there, I thought to myself as I began to flame an inoculation loop.
"So why were you there last night?" I asked when the awkward silence got too much.
"Like I said, when the police are out of their depth, they call me," he didn't look up from his micropipette.
I regarded him while he was distracted. Tall, very tall, with a slightly horsey but handsome face. Sky high cheekbones and ice blue eyes, with a mop of curly black hair. I had to admit, he was nothing like my usual type but he was surely attractive. I could see why Molly liked him, but not quite why she melted at the mere mention of him.
He turned to look at me suddenly, "What?"
Pink crept into my cheeks at being caught, "You look familiar," I scrambled for a response.
"You don't remember?" he asked, looking only mildly interested.
I shook my head, "No, should I?"
"I don't see the point in reminding you of every detail of your life. Especially the boring ones," he replied, still looking at me.
"Tell me, is it Derbyshire you're from originally?" his eyes were darting all over me now.
I nodded, now reduced to gestures under his scrutiny. He has a very domineering presence.
He gave the triumphant smile of a child who finished a difficult word search, "Thought so. Why move to London? Your ex-boyfriend?"
"Do you internet stalk everyone or just random people in labs with you?" I asked.
"I deduce, based on clear evidence. You're a homebird, you wouldn't have moved away for anything other than the chance at starting the family you want, or perhaps wanted, so badly. But why here?"
"He got into the helicopter pilot training at MiddleWallop. I wanted to be in disease control and it just so happened there was a job opening down in Porton Down, 20 minutes away from Middlewallop."
"You're close to your family. Being far away from them drove you apart."
"No, his suicide drove us apart." I replied shortly.
His eyes widened, "Suicide, I didn't see that coming."
I looked at him closely, he didn't have that pitying look in his eyes. He just looked disappointed at not guessing that too. It was comforting to not have to see that stupid sympathetic look. My mourning is over, I am ok, I don't need the pity. It was three years ago.
We went back to working in silence for a while, but it was driving me mad. I got up, shrugged off my labcoat and went to grab my jacket and handbag.
"Lunch?" Sherlock asked.
I turned to look at him, "Yeah, I missed breakfast."
"Me too," he said and stood up, straightening his jacket, "I'll join you."
"Uhh…" I flicked my hair out of my face, "Sure."
We washed up then he strode out of the lab, with me trailing behind feeling very confused as to why he was joining me.
"I'm going to lunch with you to discuss this case of yours." He said over his shoulder as if he could read my mind.
"It's not my case, it's Gregs." I reminded him, hurrying my steps to catch up to his great loping strides.
"Lestrade doesn't have cases, he has issues he needs me to clear up for him, one of which he's dragged you into."
When we left the building he held up a hand and a black cab appeared almost out of thin air. He held the door open for me and I considered that he must have been raised to be a gentleman, at least in part.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Anywhere that serves food," Sherlock spoke to the driver rather than me.