High Functioning Hopeless Romantic

Chapter 6

Shaking my head, I closed the door after Sherlock. He sure was a character. Although most of the time I wanted to pummel him, he had his moments of being an alright bloke. I locked the door, shut off the lights, then fell to sleep where I dreamt of waiters dressed in wedding dresses chasing me around a restaurant with laptops in their hands.

The next morning was Friday, my favorite day; it marks the end of a long week and is the start to a wonderful weekend. Fridays can be crazy, but also lazy - they can be anything, and then you have two days to recover. This Friday was a go out Friday. I had one friend who lived in London that I had not caught up with in awhile. As this was my first attempt at making plans with anyone for three months, I was a bit rusty when I phoned. I hadn't seen her in over a year and hadn't talked to her in 6 months. She was surprised, but flattered all the same. We agreed to meet at a small cafe a couple of minutes away, after she had gotten off of work. I decided that maybe it was time I worked as well, I still had to finish the last chapters of my latest project, then write the summary. A soft knock came at the door, and I sighed, looking down at my pajamas, hoping it was no one too important. I opened it up, and there stood sweet Mrs. Hudson.

"I brought you some breakfast dear, Sherlock doesn't eat much, and John was usually the one I cooked most for." I kissed her on the cheek and gave a small thank you. "I'll leave you to your business dear, if you need anything I'll be at home, today is laundry day!" I smiled softly, chuckling at her elderly innocence, God bless Mrs. Hudson. I dove into the food, the eggs benedict cooked to perfection. The next couple hours I spent reading, my eyes growing weary from the bright screen. I shut my laptop and rubbed my eyes, then looked out the window. Sun peaked through the clouds and I groaned as I urged myself up and out of the couch towards my room. I grunted as I slipped off my pajamas, which I had never bothered to change out of, not happy with myself for deciding to go on a run. I threw on leggings, a shirt, and tennies. Not bothering to lock the door behind me, I headed out of 221A to explore London on foot.

~

I made it about a mile before I got a horrendous side ache which caused me to stop and stretch a while. I then ran for 4 miles before I realized I was lost. Shit. I had no bloody idea where I was, people walked all around me, all going someplace, like a school of fish. I looked at the street signs but didn't recognize any. I checked my watch. 2:34pm. I looked around helplessly, trying to find a map or anything. To my luck, although it wasn't a map, it was a person I recognized. Greg his name was, the man from Sherlock's flat.

"Greg!" I yelled, running towards him. He stood across the street talking on his mobile. He looked around for the source, confusion passed across his features as he saw me running towards him, then recognition.

"Abigail?" he questioned uncertainly. I nodded my head as I was having trouble getting in enough breaths to speak. "No I'm not calling you Abigail, listen Donovan I'll call you back later okay, just give me a second."

"I - uh - umm," I sputtered as I gasped for air. He held out his hands to settle me down.

"Easy there, take your time."

"I'm lost," I stated simply. He shook his in sympathy.

"New to London?"

"That obvious?"

"A little," he chuckled, then continued, "I'm about to head down to St. Bartholomew's, the hospital, and John is there with Sherlock, I'm sure they can help you get back home."

"Thank you thank you thank you!" I exclaimed happily. Greg hailed a cab, motioning for me to get in first.

"So," he said as the cab took off, "what brought you to London?"

"Needed a change, moved out here from Rochester."

"I see, and do you know Mrs. Hudson personally?"

"She babysat my dad so she's a family friend, like my 3rd grandma." He chuckled and looked out the window.

"Have you lived in London your whole life?" I asked.

"Yeah pretty much, different parts of it, it's a great city, you'll love it." I nodded your head in agreement. The cab came to a stop and Greg paid the driver. The building was astonishingly tall, but I recognized it from pictures I had seen from Sherlock's, what I now understood was staged, suicide.

"C'mon now, Sherlock doesn't like to be kept waiting, and I sure as hell don't want to deal with that bastard in a bad mood." I scurried up the steps, following Greg inside, where he headed to an elevator. I took a breath and stepped in, my stomach flipping anxiously.

"You okay?" asked Greg, looking at me uneasily.

"Yeah, I just... umm,  you're going to think this is kind of ridiculous, but I'm afraid of elevators." He looked stunned, like he didn't believe me. "It's silly I know."

"No, not silly, just never heard of it. But it's okay, I'm scared of... ants. Those buggers scare the hell out of me." I laughed, not sure if he was being serious of just trying to make me feel better, either way I felt more normal.

"Here we are, right through this door." It read morgue on top and I shuddered.

"It's hard to get used to at first, seeing these people, but it gets easier I promise." He opened the door, and I grimaced at him as I walked in. 3 people stood over a gurney, and their heads turned as I walked in. My eyes grew wide with excitement. Molly? I looked at her, our eyes meeting, and we both ran at each other full force, both hugging each other as hard as possible. It's funny, what a small world we live in, as I was supposed to meet Molly tonight at a cafe. We broke apart and smiled, both asking each other how each was doing and so on, but my eyes averted her face for one second as I gazed at the gurney behind her. My head started to feel heavy, and the world spun around me. Then I hit floor and the lights went out.

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(This chapter has officially been edited.)