Royalty

Chapter 18: What Do People Have Then, In Their 'Real Lives'?

I half-heartedly tossed another dart into the ceiling. The book I'd been reading was tossed face down on the floor. It wasn't that good anyway.

Another dart hit the ceiling with a satisfying thunk.

John entered the flat, looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Why are you putting holes in our ceiling?"

"I was putting holes in the wall, but Sherlock took the gun away."

John glanced at the wall, where no less than sixteen new bullet holes covered the wall.

"So I take it you're bored, then?"

I gave him a look of disdain. "No, I'm incredulously entertained. Can't you tell?" I threw another dart in the wall.

"Astra, there are ..."

"Nineteen."

"There are nineteen darts in the ceiling and sixteen bullets in the wall. Can't you find some other way of passing time until tomorrow morning?"
"Not at the moment."

"You're in London! There's at least a thousand different activities you could participate in, come on --"

A dart hit the wall behind him. His eyes widened, and I felt a little bad. I put the handful of darts down. "Well, none of them interest me. Perhaps London is losing her touch."

He threw my coat at me. "Go on a walk, get some air. I'm doing background research on the Rucastle kidnapping and Sherlock's doing the same. Maybe if you get un-bored, you could actually be of some help."

I narrowed my eyes. "That's uncharacteristically mean of you. What happened?"

"Nothing happened, you and Sherlock are just slowly destroying our flat."

I scanned him briefly. Oh. "... I'm sorry Sarah broke up with you." I noticed his jaw clench slightly, and I felt myself tense a bit, worried I shouldn't have pried.

"... Get some air." His voice is shorter than normal. I nodded and stood, pulling on my coat as I went. I didn't say anything else that might upset him, I just left. I didn't see him too angry often, and I was scared what might happen if I set him off.

I grabbed an umbrella on the way out, noting the graying sky. I shoved it into my coat pocket.

I had to admit, I did feel a little better once I got outside. Fresh air felt a lot better than in the flat. I glanced up at the sky, which was filled with gorgeous rolling gray clouds. I smiled. My favorite kind of weather.

Where could I go? Even though it would just technically be a walk, I still liked to have some sort of destination in mind.

Regent's Park wasn't far ... maybe I could just wander there for a while. I set off in that direction, taking a few deep breaths and trying to clear my head.

My head was hard to clear on any day, but especially with a new case coming, it was difficult. I started reciting poetry in my head, trying to think of anything that didn't have to do with consulting people.

It wasn't working.

I reached the park and found a small unoccupied bench, which I chose to claim for a bit. I sat in silence for a few more moments before pulling out a small sketchbook I kept in my inside coat pocket, along with a pen.

It was something I'd been doing for years. When I was homeless, I'd save the paper in my sketchbook, since I didn't have much money. I only used the pages for two purposes: scenic sketches of my various favorite views in London, and new people I met or made a connection with. The second one didn't happen much at all. But once I'd met Sherlock and John, the pages filled up faster, and I was on my second book now.