How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 48

(NIGHT TIME, 221B, Alice’s POV: )

Sherlock sat in his armchair, gently plucking the strings of his violin. I sat on the couch, wishing I had Sherlocks chair to glare directly at Irene, who was eyeing him too closely for my taste. I knew what me was thinking about, and I was thinking the same; Mycroft’s phone call.

 “Bond Air is go, that’s decided. Check with the Coventry lot.” Sherlock finally roused a little and looked up.

 “Coventry.” He suddenly said. Irene, still wearing Sherlock’s dressing gown, was sitting in John’s chair watching him closely. Again, too closely for my liking. I wasn’t sure if my feelings were jealously or protectiveness, but Irene didn’t need to be all over Sherlock.

 “I’ve never been. Is it nice?” She asked.

 “Where’s John?” Sherlock asked.

 “He went out a couple of hours ago.” I replied. “When you shoved me out of my chair.” I added. Irene looked at me, just daring me to go further. I narrowed my eyes at her but didn’t say anything else.

 “I was just talking to him.” Sherlock whined. “And it’s my chair.” He snapped, looking at me. I smirked.

 “He said you do that. What’s Coventry got to do with anything?” Irene answered, smiling. I glared at her.

 “It’s a story, probably not true. In the Second World War, the Allies knew that Coventry was going to get bombed because they’d broken the German code but they didn’t want the Germans to know that they’d broken the code, so they let it happen anyway.” Sherlock explained. I nodded, as I knew the story.

 “Have you ever had anyone?” Irene asked suddenly. I turned my head towards her immediately, glaring at her and daring her –as she had me- to go further. Sherlock frowned at her blankly and I almost smiled at his innocence.

 “Sorry?” He asked.

 “And when I say ‘had’, I’m being indelicate.” She added, not looking at me but looking smug. I almost stood up and slapped her.

 “I don’t understand.” Sherlock said, sounding like a small child.

 “Well, I’ll be delicate then.” She began. Getting up from the chair, she walked over and kneeled in front of Sherlock, putting her left hand on top of his right hand and curling her fingers around it. “Let’s have dinner.” She offered.

 “Why?” Sherlock asked. I relaxed a little bit, seeing he wouldn’t let her do anything... at least with me in the room.

 “Might be hungry.” Irene reasoned.

 “I’m not.” He said. I held back a snicker; he was never hungry.

 “Good.” Irene said seductively. I held back a defensive growl. Irene seemed to have forgotten I was in the room. I was prepared to remind her at any given moment. Hesitantly, Sherlock sat forward a little and slowly turned his right hand over, curling his own fingers around her wrist. I was about to protest when I realized what he was doing. I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.

 “Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn’t hungry?” Sherlock asked, quickly glancing at me. Too quickly for Irene to notice as she leaned forward, her gaze fixed on his lips.

 “Oh, Mr. Holmes...” She trailed softly. Sherlock’s fingers gently stroked across the underside of her wrist. “...if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me?” She questioned.

 “Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson called up the stairs. It made me jump and release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Sherlock’s eyes slid towards the door, him stopping at me quickly.