Originally for Tumblr users TheReichenbachQueen and sherenekillme
Somehow the texts always came when Sherlock Holmes least expected them. She seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing the best possible time to catch the Consulting Detective bored, or in a rare bout of loneliness, or even thinking about her.
This time he had been staring at the wilted single rose on his bedside table and telling himself that he should've binned it days ago. (Or now, he could, should just bin it now, why wasn't he?) Her revised text alert made him jerk, and the timing was so uncanny that he wondered if she somehow had him under surveillance.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen, feeling his face warm.
SW5 9PD
Like every other time The Woman texted him, all he got was a postcode. The exact location, the hotel's room number: those were up to him to figure out, and they weren't always in London.
Sherlock had it easy this time around; there was only one hotel on that stretch of road in Earls Court. Five months ago she had given him the postcode for Park Lane, where there were half a dozen major hotels and over a thousand cumulative rooms and suites. He had been very motivated though, and it had taken him less than two hours to locate her. Her pleasure at his swiftness and his rush of triumph at locating her had combined with explosive results and that had been one of their most memorable liaisons yet, but he was relieved that this location was so much more straight-forward. Tonight he was far more interested in getting to see her again than he was in the thrill of the chase.
He strode down the corridor pulling on his coat and scarf, and then jogged down the stairs wearing a half-smile of anticipation. His best time yet from when he received her text to when he knocked on her door was twenty-three and one-fifth minutes, give or take a few seconds. Between the light traffic across London at one in the morning and his eagerness to reach her, he suspected that tonight he would beat that record.