AN: Sorry it's taken so long to update, I was on holiday but now I'm all settled back at uni so I'm writing again :) Thanks for the reviews and subscribes! I loooove to hear from you!
"Piss off." She snapped as she stormed out of the teashop.
I watched after her, ignoring the bemused glances from the other people in the roo. What was that in aid of? I thought, shaking my head. I got to my feet and paid the girl at the counter, who looked at me with pity, which I curled my lip at.
Outside I lit a cigarette, then sighed in irritation and lit another, puffing on both deeply. I ran over the conversation in my head, trying to pinpoint what had caused her to flounce off like that. The memory of her big brown eyes narrowing in anger made me huff and light another cigarette to join the other two.
Maybe it was the comment about her best friend's wife? Was it jealousy, and I was wrong? I never question my reasoning but that exit was so uncalled for. Or maybe her father? His drinking problem? Resolving to figure out if it was the first idea, I stubbed out my three cigarettes and waved down a taxi.
"The White Hart," I said to the cabbie and settled into the seat.
While he drove I considered this issue. I'd invited her to the teashop under the pretence of a case, but in reality I hadn't required any help at all. She presented an interesting case, that's for sure. Especially with this strange way I felt drawn to seek her company. Not for anything other than someone to talk at, but for some reason it's more rewarding than the skull.
I paid the driver and headed into the bar, scanning the room for her. The room was packed with young and overdressed people, jostling and dancing. I groaned inwardly, why must others be so intolerably dull and predictable?
My eyes found her sat at a table, looking flushed and laughing openly. I rested on the pillar next to me and regarded her. Her nose was scrunched in the middle of her face and she covered her mouth with her hand, an instant indicator of insecurity with something to do with what she was covering. The face should have been unattractive but I felt myself twitching into a smile.
The two men with her were drinking and laughing also, evidently at something the blonde woman who looked a little sour had done or said. The best friend's wife. I pinpointed the best friend, a short and pale man, with brown hair that fell in his eyes. He put an arm around his wife and she sighed then brightened. Jessica smiled and two others joined them. I watched for a few minutes and realised I wasn't wrong about the jealousy. Of course not, I'm never wrong. She's not jealous. So what in hell is it that made her storm off?
I pushed through the crush of people to the bar and ordered a whiskey for myself and a glass of wine for her, before making my way to the table they were at.
"Jessica, what a surprise to see you here," I moulded my face into a grin and placed the drink in front of her.
She looked up at me with wide eyes and I saw the surprise in her face… "Sherlock?"
"Just a drink to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I spoke out of turn about your father," I replied, choosing my words carefully to determine if that was what had upset her.
I saw her visibly tense when I mentioned her father and the best friend gave me a quick hard look before looking at her protectively.
"I don't think we've met," he said, offering his hand, "Eathan."
"Sherlock," I replied, shaking his hand firmly.
"I've heard a lot about you," he gave me a fake smile.
I stood to my full height, "All good I hope."
He raised his eyebrows a little and looked away toward his wife. So she's mentioned me to him.
"Thank you Sherlock, you didn't have to," Jessica said to cut the silence. Her cheeks were pink.
So it was the subject of her father that sent her out the door. Solved.
"Ok, well goodnight then." I closed a button on my jacket and stalked away from the group, leaving the bar.
I looked up at Sherlock, just in time to catch his face change. Like a curtain falling, his cheery smile dropped and was replaced with his usual indifferent expression. He left and all I could do was watch after him, feeling at a loss as to a million things about Sherlock Holmes, not least the fact that he knew where I was.
"Did you ask him to come here?" Lucy asked.
I shook my head, "God no. I get the feeling Sherlock Holmes goes wherever he wants, invited or not."
Eathan looked right at me, "There's something off. I don't trust him, Jessie."
He must be serious if he's not calling me by our petnames, I thought as I ran a finger up the stem of the wine glass Sherlock had gotten for me. I realised then that my face was red hot with blushing.