Just Your Average Annie (A Sherlock Fanfiction)

• Three •

Annette shut the door to her house with a sigh, leaning against it. Her cousin watched the action in pure amusement, peering over from her seat on the couch.

"What's gotten into you today?" Karla asked, brushing a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear. She stood from her seat, leaning over the bar as she watched Annie get a snack from the fridge.

"Nothing, nothing," Annie shrugged off, opening a pudding cup. "Just having some trouble with the dojo, that's all."

Karla frowned and stood eruptly, giving her friend her full attention.

"What is it?" She questioned, crossing her arms. "What's wrong?"

Annie bit her lip and took a seat in a chair, setting down the chocolate dessert.

"I...uh..." She looked up, giving her an uneasy look. "I - I have to give up the dojo."

"What?" Karla gasped, stumbling back a few steps. "Why?"

"I can't afford it, Kay," Annie explained, motioning to the house around them. "We can't afford it."

"But Anne, that dojo means everything to you!" Karla gave her friend a look of disbelief. "We can't give it up."

"Maybe we can't, but I can."

Annie slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way back to the door, despite Karla's protests. After a few minutes of half-hearted fighting, she was able to make it to the door and force it open.

"I'm sorry, Karla," Annie apologized, looking back at her from her spot on the walkway, "but you know I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to."

"I know," her cousin whispered. "That's what I'm afraid of."

■•■•■•■•■•■•■•■•■•■

"Just talk to her already," John persisted, groaning at the detective from his spot in the armchair. "It's been, what? Fifteen years? For goodness sake, Sherlock, just pick up the phone and email her! Or better yet, use my laptop!"

John thrust the device towards Sherlock, who merely set it down on the table, glared at John, and resumed his constant staring at the cell phone on the table. Suddenly, it vibrated in place, making John jump in his seat.

"Who the hell is that?"

Sherlock snatched it up quickly, putting it to his ear.

"What do you want, Mycroft?"

"I found it."

Sherlock was speechless. For the first time in over fifteen years, Sherlock was going to hear the voice of his first real friend, Annette Anderson. And for the first time in over fifteen years, Sherlock was going to have the chance to thank her.

■•■•■•■•■•■•■•■•■•■

Annie took a sip of her drink, watching her fellow peers as they spun in circles on the dance floor. She couldn't help but be jealous of the other girls. Being friends with Sherlock made it nearly impossible for her to have a date, not that he notice that.

"May I have this dance?"

Annie looked up, startled. Meeting the gaze of Sherlock, her eyes softened and her lips formed a smile.

"Of course," she replied, taking his hand. He brought her to the edge of the dance floor, away from everyone else.

"Why haven't you been dancing?" Sherlock asked, even though Annie was absolutely sure he knew the answer. He pulled her closer to him, beginning to lead her in a dance.

"No one asked," Annie whispered, seeming a little hurt. Sherlock, somehow oblivious to her sudden change of mood, fought a smile from his face.

"I did."

Annie rolled her eyes.

"You don't count."

When the dance came to an end, Sherlock went to get some refreshments, and Annie made her way back to the table. She passed a couple of guys as she did so, remembering them as two of the three bullies that she stood up to when she first met Sherlock. She was thirteen then, almost fourteen. It was later when she learned their names: Charlie, Richard, and Harvey.

"Hey! Annie, is it?"

Annie turned, only to be met with a glass of wine (which shouldn't have been there in the first place, not that anyone cared) down her dress.

"Oops," Charlie said, smirking as he looked from Annie to the empty glass in his hand.

Annie gasped, her cheeks flared red in embarrassment. Feeling self-conscious, she found herself moving backwards until she ran into something hard, which turned out to be a person, she noticed, when they secured her in their grip.

"Let me go!" Annie tried her hardest to get her captor off of her, but his hold on her only grew tighter the more she fought. Frightened, Annie let out a scream, "William!"

A year after Sherlock and Annie met, Sherlock had decided he trusted her enough to reveal to her his full name: William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Ever since then, she would only call him by his preferred name, Sherlock, except when under great stress. The same went for Sherlock, except he would call her by her middle name: Elena, or Lane for short.

"Let me go," Annie repeated, ignoring the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. She was scared - terrified even - of what they would do to her. But what frightened her even more was the lack of a response from her friend.

What had they done to Sherlock?

"Not happening, sweetheart," a voice whispered in her ear, one that could only belong to Harvey, the American transfer student. Annie cringed, feeling his breath on her neck.

She almost laughed in relief when she saw Sherlock heading in their direction.

"Let her go." Sherlock glared at Harvey before checking her over for injuries. Satisfied, he returned his attention to Charlie.

"Make us," Richard, or as his friends called him, Richie, challenged, stepping in front of Harvey and Annie.

It was a wonder how no one was paying any mind to them, but then again, it was a student-hosted party.

Sherlock, fueled by his anger, punched Charlie straight in the nose, rendering him unconscious. He then, using the moves Annie had taught him, flipped Richard over his shoulder and onto the ground. Harvey instantly let go of the girl, backing off in surrender.

"Hey, we - we were just messing around," he said, chuckling uneasily. "No harsh feelings, right?"

Sherlock took a step forward, but was stopped by Annie's hand blocking his path.

"William," she warned, her voice weak and threatening to crack. Sherlock sighed, sending one last look towards the only standing member of the trio before taking her by the hand and leading her outside.

Once outside, Annie burst into tears, hiding her head in Sherlock's chest as she gripped the front of his shirt. Sherlock awkwardly patted her back in response, unsure how to react in such a situation.

"I - I'm sorry," Annie apologized, remembering who she was with. She wiped the tears from her eyes, a fake smile on her face. "I'm alright now."

"No, you're not," Sherlock argued, wiping another tear from her cheek as it fell from her eye. "It's fine, Annie. Just let it all out."

This time, when Annie buried her head in his chest again to muffle her sobs, Sherlock hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, feeling surprising comfortable with the foreign position.