John Watson's Blog
June 25, 2011
Though I had to cancel the date from last week, I was able to make it up to Emma last night. And what a spectacular night it was! We enjoyed a nice picnic, listened to classical music and watched a splendid display of fireworks. All in all, it was an evening I'd never forget. There was one odd thing.
I have been concerned about a strange man who has approached her. At least, I think it's the same man each time: the bus, the Gardens (though I'm not entirely sure that wasn't just my mind playing tricks), out in front of her building. Every time I mention it, she seems to withdrawal from the conversation. I wonder if it isn't her estranged brother. At any rate, I'm curious if Sherlock has noticed the same. My assumption would be his self invite is directly related to this prowler.
Needless to say, I plan on seeing Emma again tonight. Unfortunately, with Sherlock tagging along, his presence will certainly "make or break" my relationship with Emma. He just doesn't get it, or doesn't care to. Either way, it's irritating. And then he starts asking me about... *sigh* again, never mind.
I do like Emma, I really like her. I just don't think she's ready for that step, not yet at least. We have been seeing a lot of each other, which I've thoroughly enjoyed. Some days, I feel like I can't get enough of her. Still, between work, cases with Sherlock and dates with Emma, I'm exhausted!
Wish me luck tonight! I'm truly going to need it.
Comments
She sounds lovely. But is she your type?
Anonymous
Mycroft?
John
That old sod? Not even close. :)
Anonymous
Apparently, I'm not the only one skilled at hacking into this blog.
SH
If you can do it, dear "SH", then it would most certainly come easy for me.
Anonymous
Curious.
SH
As evening approached, John hoped Sherlock had forgotten about inviting himself to dinner. Unfortunately, his friend remembered all too well. As John was about to step out to meet Emma, Sherlock joined him. With the added company, dinner at the Blue Elephant was out. John decided on the more casual atmosphere of Tapas Brindisa.
While waiting for a cab, Sherlock seemed preoccupied. John hesitated to interrogate him. It was not until after the cab had pulled away from the curb that he blurted out, "So, what's this about, Sherlock?" He knew he only had a few minutes before they would arrive at Emma's.
Sherlock had been gazing out the window, until John's outburst drew his attention. "Pardon?" he asked, with an air of innocence.
"Don't play me. You're doing this for a reason and I want to know what it is." John pushed, crossing his arms to show how serious he was.
Sherlock turned back towards the window, eyes darting from left to right. He offered one name, "Emma."
"Pfft!" John exhaled, shaking his head. "You have never expressed an interest in her, ever. What about Emma could possibly have caught your interest now?"
Sherlock glanced back at John, seeming to weigh his words carefully. "Emma is being followed."
"Sherlock, if you knew, why didn't you say anything?" John demanded.
Eyebrow raised, the detective replied, "I had to be certain he was following her and not you. These days, it can been difficult to tell as you two are, as the saying goes, 'joined at the hip'." He offered a patronising smile.
John blushed with embarrassment. "Who's following her? Is it her brother?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "If I knew that, I wouldn't have bothered inviting myself, now would I?"
John started to open his mouth, then stopped. He spied Emma waiting outside on the steps as the cab pulled up. Giving a serious look to his friend, he pleaded, "Please, say nothing now. When you do tell her, put it to her easy." John opened the door and quickly stepped out. "Emma, you look beautiful, as always." His grin broadened the closer he drew to her.
Emma blushed, looking away. "John!" she whispered, knowing Sherlock was within earshot.
"What? I don't care...frankly, neither does he." he grinned, pulling her into his arms. "How are you doing?" he asked, concern in his voice. He knew she did not want to talk about the man following her. Still, he had to keep pushing and prodding. He was concerned for her safety.
"Good thanks." Seeing that John was waiting expectantly, she again answered, "It's fine. Really, John. There's nothing to worry about."
As he gazed into her eyes, his smile grew. "You are beautiful." She blushed again. He gave her a quick kiss.
Biting her lip in an attempt to suppress a grin, Emma slipped into the cab. John quickly followed sitting close by her side, wrapping his arm around her. After Sherlock's comment, he felt the desire to protect her.
Sherlock continued to eye the cab's mirrors, glancing behind occasionally. John had tried to gain his attention, but Sherlock's concentration was elsewhere. Knowing he had an ulterior motive to joining them for dinner, dread filled John's heart as he wondered when that motive would become evident to Emma.
Arriving at Tapas Brindisa, John escorted Emma through the doors of the restaurant. When John shot a questioning look to his friend, Sherlock gave a quick glance towards Emma. He searched the streets in an attempt to locate the follower, but was stopped by a stern expression and subtle head shake from his flatmate.
During the meal, John did his best to keep his attention on Emma. Though he was having a pleasant time, he could not stop thoughts that entered his mind. Why was she being followed? And by whom? When he broke from these questions, he was surprised to find Emma observing Sherlock.
Sherlock remained focussed on the front of the restaurant. "So tell me, Emma." he interrupted their conversation, not having turned to face her. "What did you say your profession was?"
Emma scrutinized the side of Sherlock's face, eyebrow raised, but said nothing.
"Sherlock. I've told you, she's a Pediatrician." John said, obviously irritated.
Sherlock gave a quick glance to John, then at Emma. "Is that so?"
"It is." she replied, eyeing him steadily.
"Enjoy your work?" he asked.
"I do." she replied simply.
"Like children?" he continued to pry.
"I neither like nor dislike them." she shrugged, looking down at her plate of food as if disinterested in the line of questioning.
"And you said your parents live where, exactly?" he asked.
"My parents are dead." Her reply was cold.
"And your brother?" he interrogated.
She tensed visibly at the question. "Estranged. I...I have no idea where my brother is."
"Interesting. Any problems between the two of you before he left?" he prodded.
The fingers of her right hand began to play with loose strands of her hair. "None that I can think of. His problem was with my parents."
"Problem?" he asked.
"Yes. My parents, especially my father, were very strict." she told him.
"Explain." he said, then seeing John's seething look, quickly added, "please."
Emma shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Curfew, school grades, general association with friends."
"Describe your brother to me." he insisted.
She glanced at John. "I...I don't understand why-"
John shot a look at his flatmate. "Sherlock." he said in warning.
"John, it is a simple question. Please." He waved John off, waiting for Emma to answer.
Emma hesitated. John recognized her expression, it was the same one she gave him whenever he asked about the mysterious man. "Brown hair, green eyes, fair complexion." she answered quietly.
"No, Miss Herrington." Sherlock said with a quiet sigh. John shot him a look.
Emma's eyes darted from Sherlock to John. "Really, is this necessary?" she gave a weak smile. She turned to John and whispered, "I'm extremely tired. Would you mind if I-"
"Emma...his weight, height, build, if you please." Sherlock interrupted.
"Sherlock." John again said in warning.
She paused for a moment, a flash of irritation on her face. Finally, taking a deep breath, "Um...I guess around 12 stones 13, maybe 5 feet 11, average build. Why the sudden interest?"
Sherlock thought for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as he processed the information. Finally, he spoke, "Emma, you are being followed."
John sat back in his seat, exasperated. "Sherlock! You couldn't have worded that...that is to say..." he said. He worried how Emma would react, knowing that they were aware of her stalker.
Emma appeared to pale. "Surely not. There must be some kind of mistake-"
"I rarely make mistakes." Sherlock retorted.
She feigned surprise. "Who would followed me? And why?" To John, Emma was a terrible liar. He figured she must know who had been following her.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he responded coolly, "By a male that may very well fit the description you've given me of your brother. Unfortunately, he has been wearing a hooded sweatshirt, so it is difficult to tell."
Emma peered out the windows of the restaurant, but could see no one.
"Oh, you will not find him, I assure you. Obviously someone of some skill..." Sherlock mused. "...he has been following you for some time now."
John looked from Emma to Sherlock. "Now what?"
Sherlock leaned in close to rapidly whisper, "I shall endeavour to approach your 'shadow'. I need for you two to continue your dinner as planned. When you leave, go South. Provided he follows Emma, I plan to observe him for a while before approaching him. Give me ten minutes before you hail a cab."
"John, I'm scared." Emma whispered, leaning into his arms.
"You're trembling. Emma, darling, I'm here." John said, wrapping his arm around her and looking at her with great concern.
"Emma." Sherlock said, gaining her attention. "If there is any reason why someone would be following you, now would be the time to tell me." He looked at her, observing her movements and reaction.
Emma avoided eye contact, shook her head, and leaned against John. "I can think of no reason. None at all. I'm sorry." A few tears fell down her face.
"Emma, Sherlock can help. We can help you. Whatever the problem is, just tell us." John said tenderly, holding her closer to him.
"I..." she was devastated. With a heavy sigh, she yielded, "I didn't want to involve you, either of you. Please let it alone. I can take care of it. I have nearly all of the money."
John and Sherlock exchanged glances. "Money?" Sherlock prodded.
Emma gazed at Sherlock. Then, with downcast eyes, she explained, "My brother had, that is has, a gambling addition. He is in considerable debt. He told me if he didn't pay his bookie what he owed, they might kill him. Or come after me." she swallowed hard.
John was stunned upon hearing the unpleasant truth.
"If I pay, this will all be over. Please, let it be." she implored, tears welling up.
"Ah, but that is the catch." Sherlock explained. "It will merely be the beginning of a long and arduous blackmail."
"Emma, these types include con artists. They have no qualms about taking your money, or anyone else's, for that matter. I don't want anything to happen to you." John looked at her with concern.
She growled in exasperation. "Which is why I didn't want to involve you! What if they decide to go after you? I just couldn't...it would kill me if..." she choked up on her words.
"I know." he whispered. Taking her chin in his grasp, he lifted her face towards him. With a tender smile, he continued, "Trust me when I say we've been through worse. Let us help you, please?"
Her eyes moved back and forth, as if searching for something within his. At last, with an imperceptible nod, she answered, a tremor in her voice, "Alright."
John smiled broadly, at last feeling he would be able to take control of the situation and protect her in the process. Addressing Sherlock, he said, "I'm ready when you are."
Sherlock nodded and stood. Then, addressing John, he gave a knowing smirk, "Do me a favour? Don't look for him." He left the restaurant, disappearing into the darkness.
John and Emma sat, staring at their plates of food. Neither was very hungry. Emma pushed her plate away in frustration. John wrapped his arm around her in a comforting embrace. "Emma, I'll make certain nothing happens to you. Sherlock is intelligent and resourceful. He'll get to the bottom of this. He'll see to your safety. We both will. I promise." John squeezed her gently, hoping his words would reassure her.
She looked up at him, causing that nagging feeling to play at the back of his mind, as if he were looking at his flatmate. The feeling dissipated when she finally smiled. "I'm sorry, John. I guess I'm not much for company now." She glanced out the window of the restaurant.
"I know." he whispered. "It's understandable. If you need me..." he trailed off.
"Actually, if it doesn't sound too forward..." she hesitated.
"Yes, anything. Name it." he said quickly. At that moment, he would have done anything for her.
"Stay with me the night? I don't want to be alone." She looked back at him, her eyes filled with tears.
"Absolutely. I wouldn't leave you alone, not now." He smiled, giving her a hug. Then, taking a deep breath, he asked, "You ready?"
She, too, took in a breath and gave a quick nod.
The couple stood and carefully made their way outside. Taking Sherlock's instructions to heart, they headed South down the street. Walking closely together, arm-in-arm, John did his best to look large and menacing as they headed back in the direction of her flat. Though tempted to look around, he tried to keep his eyes focussed ahead. He did glace down at his watch multiple times, however.
"John." she whispered nervously.
"Not yet." he said quietly as he held her tighter, having wrapped his arm around her waist.
It seemed an eternity for them before the ten minutes were up. John quickly hailed a cab and the two gave a sigh of relief as they were driven back to her flat. When they arrived, Emma was visibly agitated. She struggled to find her keys. Cursing under her breath, she pushed around the contents of her bag frantically before she finally found them. As she was about to unlock the door, the ring of keys dropped to the ground. She groaned. Her hands were trembling so much she could not steady them.
"Here, let me." John said in a whisper. Picking the keys up from the ground, he unlocked the door and allowed her to enter first, following closely behind.
The following morning, John awoke, gathering his bearings again. He was in her room and Emma was gone. Standing quickly, he dressed and headed to the other room. By the window, Emma stood, staring out onto the street.
"Emma." he said softly, kissing her cheek and wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. "You should not be standing by the window." He lead her to a chair and forced her to sit down.
Emma slowly raised her head. She had dark rings around her eyes, the whites having a red tint to them. The last thing he remembered was holding her in his arms. She must not have slept. He felt guilty for having fallen asleep when she needed him most.
"Let me make you some tea." he said. She nodded acceptance and he left for the kitchen. Using his mobile phone, he called Sherlock.
"John." The familiar voice said over the phone.
"Anything?" John whispered, hoping Emma could not overhear him.
"No. I was on his trail. Unfortunately, he discovered me and, soon after, disappeared." Sherlock replied. "I have an idea though."
John groaned internally. That was never good. He dreaded asking, "What is it?"
"We need bait." he said simply.
"No, absolutely not. Sherlock, she's terrified. You can't expect her-" John began.
"John, she's a strong woman. You must know that by now. She must. We don't know who this man is. The only way to find out is to catch him in the act of following her. I need you to assist me in following him. You can't do that if you are with her." he explained.
John sighed deeply. Sherlock was, as always, correct. Still, he was not entirely sure he could convince Emma of that. "Alright. I'll speak with her."
"John, do not allow your emotions to cloud your judgement. If you truly want to help her, you need to distance yourself for a time." he stated.
"Right. Well, easy enough for you." John said right before Sherlock hung up the phone.
Leaning against the counter, deep in thought, John at first did not hear the whistle of the tea pot. Eventually, the piercing noise brought him back to reality. Preparing two cups of tea, he walked back into the other room and squatted down next to her. She took the proffered cup and began to sip it carefully.
"Emma." John said, failing to find the right words. "I..."
She watched him as she continued to sip her tea.
John swallowed hard. Those eyes. I feel as if she can read my thoughts, anticipate what I'm going to say.
"He didn't catch the man." she stated rather than asked. John shook his head. "What now?"
"He...he wants to use you as bait. To lure the man back out into the open." he explained.
"Tonight?" she nodded, placing her cup on the table next to her.
"Yes." he said, eyes downcast to the floor. "Without me." he whispered. Glancing back up, he found her eyes wide in surprise. "I'm so sorry, Emma. Sherlock believes that if I were with him, I would be more useful in catching this man."
She shook her head, appearing to be rather frightened.
"Emma, I promise I will not be far from you. I will not let anything happen to you." He took her hand in his. "I love you."
Something flash in her eyes that John did not recognise. Slowly, a smile crept over her lips. "I love you, too, John." she replied.
At that moment, her words sounded hollow. She must be terribly frightened. I'm sure it will be better once this is resolved. He thought hopefully. Taking her into his arms, he gave her a tight squeeze.
