Constellations Strung With a Shooting Star | Sherliam

Chapter Seven

"He's leaving with Adler...?" William mumbles quietly, careful gaze settled upon Irene Adler leaving 221b with Sherlock Holmes. It's been months since the train incident, and as of recently, Adler has come into interest. With her both obtaining dangerous records and successfully making home in Holmes' flat, it's hard to ignore her.

So of course, as Fred spies on them, William simply has to come along. Things have gotten a bit more busy as of late, and he hasn't been able to come out with Porlock lately. But with the development concerning Irene, it was important that he tags along at least this once.

And he was expecting the same thing as last time, completely reserved at the flat. He hadn't quite determined that Sherlock would leave, even though he really should have. He bites his lip. Just how busy has he been that he can't think of such an easy possibility beforehand?

Thankfully, he and Fred naturally brought outfits that hid them among a crowd well enough. With that in mind, he stands up as Fred observes and replies.

"It seems so. I wonder what it's for... I'm surprised she wants to leave his home, considering why she purposefully infiltrated it," the quiet man mumbles, a hint of surprise and confusion in his tone.

William smiles softly, putting his hat back on for a moment. "It doesn't matter if she's in his home or not. As long as she's with Holmes, she feels safe. She won't be harmed as long as he's at her side," he briefly glances back at the two outside, Sherlock fighting for one smoke before they leave. His smile grows a bit more fond.

Before he stays distracted for too long though, he looks back to Porlock who also stands up. "And it's quite easy to decipher what they're doing. I'm certain that Adler wanted to go shopping; but of course, couldn't leave without her trusty guard dog." He chuckles gently, but doesn't earn a shred of entertainment from Fred. Although, he wasn't expecting him to laugh.

"Ah... Of course. So we'll be following them?" Fred hums, and he earns a nod.

"Yes. The market and shopping areas are particularly busy at this time of the day; the chances of him seeing us are very low, and if he does notice us... He'll be too distracted by me, and I can easily make it seem like a coincidence," William explains, heading for the door. Porlock follows him silently, only making small confirming hums.

The two leave, shortly following after Sherlock as the man is dragged away by a nationally wanted thief.

-

"Urgh... Give me a sec to catch my breath and relax, will ya?" Sherlock groans, letting himself fall back onto an empty bench. He lets out a satisfied sigh as his feet lift from the ground, one leg crossing over the other as a hand instinctively dives into his breast pocket.

"All right... But after this we're going to Piccadilly Circus!" Irene beams, twirling on her feet in front of the bench. And for the love of god, Sherlock will never understand how she can have so much energy after so much shopping. And they were hardly even close to done.

He rolls his eyes, another groan following. "Fine, whatever..." He grumbles, fervently stuffing a cigarette between his lips that he promptly lights. As he takes a drag, the blonde softly hums, her gaze scanning Sherlock until she finds something of interest.

Her eyes are set upon the opening of Sherlock's shirt, glaring hard at the strange color sticking out from it. Her bright blue eyes narrow, and she opens her mouth so speak.

"Sherly... What's underneath your shirt?" Holmes' eyebrows twitch in annoyance at the use of the same nickname Mycroft ungraciously applied to him, but he closes his eyes as he answers.

"Yer talking about this, right?" He sighs, pulling it open just a little to reveal a slight bit more of the constellation mark spread across his chest. "You have heard of soulmates, right? It is a rather rare case, but... That's what this is for."