Strangest Stranger

2

(1 week later)

"Sherley, I'm back from the store!" I call, walking up the stairs with the bags. I set them on the table, then turn to look at Sherlock. He's lying on the couch, hands positioned as if he's praying, and his eyes closed. Honestly, he looks very peaceful, unlike his mysteriousness when he's active. I ask him, "What're you doing?"

"I'm thinking." He says, sounding sleepy.

I ask, sitting next to the couch, "About what? You solved the case yesterday...where's John?"

"I like to think, and he's on a date, which I don't get why." He replies, not even flinching.

I ask, now intrigued, "Have you ever...been on a date?"

"Yes, I went with John and his date to the circus." He sighs, opening his eyes.

"No, I mean with a girl. Just a girl. One you are...interested in?"

Sherlock says, checking his nicotine patches, "No...I'm married to my work, and I have not the slightest interest in women."

"Oh? Let's find out." I say, raising my eyebrows. I add, reaching up to touch his hair, "Tell me what you're feeling right now. If you can't say, listen to your body, not your mind." I wrap a curl around my index finger, then let it go, watching it spring back into place.

"I can't feel anything; I don't know what to feel."

I say, pinching his nose, "Do you feel that?"

He replies, sounding congested, "Yes, now let go. Is there a reason for this?"

I say, putting my hands in my lap, "Yes. I want you to know that it's okay to feel what 'normal' people feel. It's not bad to have emotion, Sherlock. It's okay to love, hate, and even cry. Sadly, I had to tell my other friend that, too. He's a lot like you, in a way."

"Is he a detective, too? Or a so called 'hero'? How about a sociopath?"

I smile, saying, "Oh, he's definitely a hero, all right. But he doesn't...live around here. He visits every so often."

Sherlock smiles a little, then says, "I'd like to meet him sometime. I don't have many friends, you know."

"Well, John and I are your friends. And Mrs. Hudson, of course."

Sherlock asks, completely changing the subject, "Do you do something to your hair or is this natural?"

"Why don't you tell me, Mister I-know-everything-about-you-even-though-we-haven't-spoken-yet!"

He says, defensively, "I observe, I don't know everything!"

"Hey, tell me if you feel this!" I say, leaning down, and kissing his forehead. I then stand up, and walk down the stairs, only to hear him behind me. He pulls his coat on and his scarf, saying, "I'll walk you home."

"No, no. You stay here. Wait for John. You don't need me anyway."

"No, I'm walking you home. I can't risk you getting mugged, kidnapped, or murdered."

I shake my head, walking away, hoping he won't follow. But he does, of course. It's pouring rain now, but what do you expect? It's London. He makes it to my side, saying, "So, where do you live?"

I suddenly snap, yelling, "Nowhere!? I don't live anywhere, okay? Go ahead, leave! I'll wait for my friend; he's coming!" That's when my face violently kisses a pole, and I fall on the concrete. I'm now sobbing in the downpour, right in front of him.

"So, if you don't live anywhere, then why'd you leave the flat?"

I start to say, "Because, I..." but I just keep sobbing.

"Because you what?"

I put my arm over my face, saying, "I can't tell you."

He helps me up, saying, "C'mon. We're going back to the flat."

My teeth chatter as I walk. I'm soaked to the core. I'm sure my eyes look like they're weeping black.

We go in the door, but on our way up the stairs, Mrs. Hudson sees me, and says, "Oh, you're all wet. Come with me, dear." I follow Mrs. Hudson, and she says, once we're in the laundry room, "Dear, I'll dry your clothes, but you'll have to take them off. You can have a blanket, and these." She hands me a bra and underwear.

"These aren't yours are they? I mean"

She chuckles, saying, "No sweetie, they're just extras."

"They're not...Sherlock hasn't had a"

"Dear, I'm pretty sure all of his relationships were completely for his cases, and I haven't heard about anything physical between"

"Okay, Mrs. Hudson, thank you for explaining that."

She adds, handing me the blanket, "You like him, don't you?"

I want to deny it, but I can't lie to her. She's just so nice and compassionate. I sigh, "Yes...but please don't tell him! I don't want him to be paranoid, or worried, or whatever. He may not like me if he finds out."

"I wouldn't dream of telling him, child." She smiles warmly at me. "He seems so different with you. He may like you too, but he won't realize it until near death situation. That's when your body and mind start to either turn on you or completely fail you."

I sigh, obviously thinking about him. I wrap the blanket snugly across my body, then hand Mrs. Hudson my wet clothes. I say, "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. You're so kind."

She says, "Oh, remember to keep the blanket around you, dear."

Before I left the room, I could've sworn she winked.

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