For A Little While (BBC Sherlock Prequel/Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1: Begin Again

*London, January 2004*

I threw the last empty box onto the floor and put my hands over my head and locked them.

"Thank God! I'm officially moved in!" I said while laughing. "Finally!" Addison said over the speaker phone.

I plopped down on the bed and grabbed the phone, taking it over off speaker and I put it to my ear.

"You know what sucks, Addi?" I asked.

"What?"

"I miss Ireland."

"Oh, shut up!" she yelled. I laughed. "Just kidding!" I said. I looked at my room and I saw the paintings that I made and hung them up on the wall.

"Do you still love being a painter?" Addison asked. "Yeah, I don't think I'll ever give it up!" I smiled.

"Yeah- Hang on a minute, Grandmother! Sorry, Alice, I've got to go. Grandmother's on my case again," she said. "Bye, call you tomorrow," I said and I hung up.

I sat up and turned around to look at the painting that hung up above my bed. It was of Grandmother's house. 

The blue Victorian house sat on the green hill. Evergreen trees lined the long white drive that wrapped aroung a stone fountain in front of the house. I looked at the top right window on the house and saw a little girl with curly blonde hair, held back from her face with a yellow and pink head band.

She was only about 7. 

She wore a yellow sundress with a pink ribbon wrapped around it and her hand was on the window. The thing is, is that she wasn't smiling. She stared blankly at the trees. Now, as everything else was like taking a picture, that little girl was entirely from my imagination. Well, not really.

That little girl was me.

I was never a happy child. I couldn't remember the first 6 years of my life and I don't know why. I couldn't remember my parents, I couldn't remember my sister, I couldn't even remember my name for the longest time. Sad, I know. But, I learned after a while.

I tore my eyes away from the painting and looked at the black coat on the chair that was in front of a wooden desk.

I'll go for a walk.

Yeah, that's what I need. A cool refreshing walk in the winter air.

I got up and grabbed the coat and put it over my clothes. I put on my black, ankle length height heeled boots and grabbed my phone and wallet.

I walked out of the new apartment and started to head down the street.

People were rushing about and breathing like dragons. Actually, I'm surprised I didn't get knocked down.

Spoke too soon.

I felt someone rush into the right side of my shoulder and I stumbled forwards, hands scraping the gravel and face soon connecting with the concrete.

"Sorry, needed somewhere. Are you alright?" a voice says.

I turned on the gravel and saw a dark curly haired man standing above me with a nonchalant expression upon his face. Sharp cheek bones and bright green eyes are the features that stood out to me.

"I'm fine, thanks. Just doing the routine concrete check. Everything seems to be in order," I said while sitting up. For a second, I thought I saw a smile stretch across his face but whatever I saw seemed to disappear as fast as it came.

"Oh," he said while grabbing my hand and helping me back onto my feet.

I brushed off the dirt that was on my coat and skirt and looked up at him. Yes, looked up. He's a tall fellow.

"May I know the name of my attacker?" I asked, trying to be as serious as I could. The corners of his lips twitched but he forced them back down.

"Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. And you?" he said.

"Alice Lockhart," I answered while holding out my hand.

"Oh, you're a hand shaker. Alright then," he noted while taking my hand.

I ignored that comment and put my arm to my side.

"Well, then. Nice to meet you... Sherlock Holmes," I said. He nodded. "Likewise."

I sighed and then started to head past him when he grabbed my arm.

"Actually, would you mind helping me with something?" he asked. I raised a brow, curious as to what he needs "help" with.

"Excuse me?"

"I said before, I'm needed somewhere. I would appreciate it if you would mind accompanying me. Someone else's point of view might... help me," he explained.

"We...  We just met," I said. "I know."

I furrowed my brows but hesitantly nodded. I mean, what the hell? It's a Monday and I've got nothing to do.

Let's just be glad I brought my phone and I'm wearing heeled boots.

We walked down the street and turned a corner. How stupid am I? I'm walking through an unknown place with a man I just met. This must be what whores are like.

We got to a house with police tape masking it and two adults, married obviously, crying. The husband was comforting the wife. I look at Sherlock.

"Did a child die?" I asked. He nodded hesitantly.

"Have I told you what I do?" he asked. I shook my head.

He smiled a half smile.

"I'm the consulting detective," he said.

I raised my brows and looked at the two story house. "You mean..." I said. He nodded.

He held up the tape and I went under, very scared about what I might see.

I followed him up to the house and we walked up the stairs. Maybe it won't be that bad. Maybe the kid just... died. Oh God, I think I'm going to puke.

He opened the door and I almost fainted at what I saw.

It was the girl from my painting.

This girl was... me.

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Oh my Gosh, I am so sorry ya'll. I'm a horrible person. If you haven't figured out by now,  I'm a procastinator... and we have a very horrible relationship. Don't say anything, but I want to get a divorce...

Anyway! I finally published it though and I'm so sorry that the chapter is so damn short. Next chapter will be longer and shit so... yeah....

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Love you my little guinea pigs! <3 o3o