Guardian Angel

221B Baker Street

The fabric of white sheets I felt under my fingertips was soft and cold in a way, so I moved my hand upon the empty other half of the bed till I felt warmth upon my skin. A beautiful ray of sunshine shone through the partly open green curtain, illuminated the floating dust in the London air and signalised the start of a wonderful day.
I hoped it would be one, a good day, I mean. I felt like something has changed since I met the mysterious stranger on the bridge last night.
I stared at the light of a new day and let memories cloud up my mind, still I felt a very different vibe flowing through my veins, like I've been drugged for a lead to happiness.
The smell of tea and something different, something I didn't recognise, hit my nose and made me get up; leaving tangled thoughts behind, as I waddled barefoot along the hallway into the kitchen.
The man, my angel, stood there, dressed in cloth pants and a dark green shirt, like he'd had an appointmemt in his office later that day. But he wasn't one of those city guys, clearly, cause the smell I hadn't recognised came from a burning white pulver mixed up with something that reminded me of polish and my past hated chemistry classes.
"Morning!" his deep voice led me out of my frozeness.
"What are you doing?" I asked him, ignoring politeness.
"Just a little experiment. Tea?"
Nodding I took a seat and still watched him and his experiment in awe. Funny enough, it didn't seem strange to me, just left me curious.
A steaming cup was placed in front of me and taking notes and professional looks into microscopes were continued like I didn't even existed.
"Why did you do it?" he asked after a long distance of silence between the length of a dark wooden table.
"You know that already and.. I didn't do it! I mean you stopped me! Why did you do that?"
A hint of surprise flashed over his face and his piercing blue eyes searched for something in mine. We both were unable to find what we were looking for and yet saw so much to aim for.
He went on with his work, I got up and wandered though the flat. It was dusty and seemed like a museum in places; in others you could see that a young modern man was living here. It looked chaotic but still everything seemed to had it's exact place to be. And even though I wasn't placed here and probably would never will, I felt at home.
"Where am I?" I said out loud.
"Baker Street."
"Central London. Nice!" I nodded and pointed at the skull on the mantle. "Who's that? Or better, who was he?"
"Billy!"
"Billy!" I whispered, nodding knowingly with no idea in my mind.
I sat down in a worn out grey leather chair and finally seemed to get his unwanted attention. He got up and nervously fiddled around with things, replacing them from their place to be.
"Why are you still here?" he finally let out the question.
"I'm here because of you!" I said simply, also reffering to last night.
He looked at me, then grabbed his coat. The coat. A lump builded up in my throat. I tried to swallow it.
"You need clothes! Stay here! I'll be right back!"
He rushed out and left me alone in a silence I decided to replace with the rushing water of a hot shower.
As I stepped out on a fluffy towel, clothes lay by the sink.
I slipped into the dark green dress that underlined my eyes and braided my wet dark brown hair.
I got back into the living room to find my angel sitting in the leather chair, deep in thoughts.
"So what do you think?" I swirled around like a little girl who just got a new dress, I didn't even had to pretend, I felt it.
He looked up barely, like it was hard to get out of his mind. I knew that very well, the reason I saw it.
He finally got up and went over to me, taking my hand into his big one, shaking it slightly.
'Who are you?' our eyes silently asked each other.
"Catherine Taylor."
"Sherlock Homles."
And that's where it all began.