An Affair with the Enemy (A Sherlock Fanfic)

Chapter 2

Tanya

The cold, winter-laced air brushes over my face as I walked through the streets of London, following a GPS on my phone. I stop outside a tall glass building and step inside. Dad's only told me about this place but I could never have imagined his office to look this beautiful. I near a desk where a lady, with her hair in a tight bun, sits. She glances up at me and smiles, showing off her sparkly white teeth.

"How may I help you?" she asks.

"Um...I've come all the way from North Yorkshire to surprise my dad. I was wondering how to get to the 11th floor."

The lady points me out to the right direction and tells me where the elevators are. Beaming down at the lady, I walk past a gate and step into the immaculate elevator. I take a deep breath and remember what my dad told me about his office. On the 11th floor there's a corner desk where you can see the views of London and on a bright day, you can even see Big Ben. It's almost as though I can hear him in my head. Holding back my crazy smile, I press the button and wait to go up.

With a 'ping' the elevator doors open and I walk out. I survey the area around me and find the corner desk. I walk up to it, my heart practically beating out of my chest. Once I'm very near to the desk, I tip-toe closer, ignoring the glares from all the other workers. I see my dad, sitting on his chair, his back faced to me and looking out at London. Once I'm right behind him, I cover his eyes with my hand before whispering "Guess who" into his ear. He must've gotten the shock of his life as he drops the coffee in his hand as he spins to face me. Once he's fully facing me, my smile fades and a look of horror creeps up. He's not my dad... I back away from the man mumbling apologies and once I was far away from him, I turn back around and race towards the elevators. Once I'm downstairs, I barge past people to get some fresh air. How humiliating! But coming this far, I didn't want to give up on what I had come for. I walk back in, mustering all the courage I had and looked at the receptionist.

"Sorry to bother again but could you tell me which floor Richard Brook is on?"

The lady types his name and looks up at me puzzled.

"Are you sure you have the right building? There's no Richard Brook here" She turns her computer screen towards me and I check that the details she entered were correct before muttering a thanks and walking out confused. He told me he worked here. Was he lying to me? What if he got kidnapped? Or worse, killed? I scolded myself for being ridiculous and then headed back home.

~~~

"Well? How was it? Was he surprised? Did you get a picture? What did he say? Oh, tell me everything Tanya." It hadn't even been 30 seconds entering the flat before I was bombarded by questions by my best friend.

"He wasn't even there" I say under my breath, but loud enough for her to hear.

"Oh, how strange dear. Are you sure you went to the right place?" I look up to see Mrs Hudson was still here and hadn't left. I gave her a tight nod before looking down at my feet, frowning.

"Oh love, don't be upset. You know, I'm pretty sure Sherlock'll be able to help. He's good with this stuff and he's awfully bored at the moment. I don't think he'd mind something to have a look at."

"Well I suppose it is about time I visited my neighbours. Coming Han?" I stand up and look over to Hannah who's eyes were glued to her phone screen, probably texting her new boyfriend. Rolling my eyes, I make my way up the stairs and knock at the door. A short man with greying hair opens the door. He is wearing a sweater and jeans. He looks at me for a moment before apologising and asking for my name.

"Tanya, Tanya Brook" I say with a smile and offer my hand. "I'm your new neighbour and I only just moved in."

"Oh. Right. Um, John. Please come in." He shakes my hand gingerly and stands aside to let me in. I look around biting my lip nervously.

"Tea?"

"Oh, no. I'm alright thank you. Um, I was just wondering if Sherlock was here? Mrs Hudson did say he would be." Walking towards the armchair, I am about to sit down when the door swings open and a man with dark curly hair marches in.

"That absolute idiot. Thinks I can work with Anderson on forensics. Working with a three year old would be a lot more productive than working with him." His eyes scan over mine and he continues ranting to John. "I mean, three suicides. And this one is actually interesting. Oh, a clever murderer. How exciting John!" I stare at him, eyes wide open as though he were a psychopath. How could someone be so excited about suicide and murders?

John seems as though he's about to speak when I pipe up. "I think its best I left now. Lovely to meet you." I grab my purse and step out of the doorway when a cold voice commands me to stop. I turn around to meet icy blue eyes. He scans me, staring and looks me up and down. I'm about to ask what he's doing when he speaks.

"Adopted. Would say when you were 7 but the choice of clothing tells me when you were adopted at the age of 3. You have no siblings. You live or at least you used to live a depressed life. The self- harm scars on your wrist give that away. You're upset. The coffee stain on your top says that you bumped into someone you didn't expect. Surprising someone? Perhaps. But you're disappointed. You never met them. By your eyes, I'm guessing your dad. Foster dad. What about you're real parents? I would say they are...." John tells him to stop but he ignores at as he continues. "...dead. The tattoo on your finger is a date. They died when you were 1." Tears well up however hard I try to supress my feelings. I turn on my heel and stomp down the stairs when I hear John telling the man off. Never had I been so humiliated and upset in my life.

Walking back into the flat, I ignore the questions from Hannah and slam the bedroom door shut. I lay on my bed, holding a pillow close as I cry into it remembering my upsetting past. Hannah knocks on the door but I ignore it. Five minutes later, Hannah knocks again. "Go away Hannah!" I shout.

"Well, my name isn't exactly Hannah and I came to..." There's a pause as the man on the other side breathes, as though he struggles to say the next word. "I'm sorry" he mumbles. I sniffle and wipe my tears away as I tell the man on the other side that it doesn't matter.

"Could I make it up to you? Perhaps dinner?" The way he says it sounds almost robotic and that's when I realise that John was feeding him the words. Without wanting to look weak, I open the door and give the two men a sharp glare and walk past them.

"I'm not hungry. And I don't think Hannah is either". I cross my arms stubbornly and sit down on the sofa.

"I am actually." You glare at Hannah who slides you an apologetic look.

"Good, how are we for sandwiches then?"