And then there was three; a Sherlock Fanfiction

Seventeen

Lilly Grace Harper sat in the off-white, claw foot tub nestled in the corner of her modest bathroom. She hummed quietly, laying with her head back and eyes closed. The water had long grown cold, but she she could still smell the scent of coffee beans on her skin.

Shortly after the wedding, Molly had came through with her promise and Lilly was hired at her uncle Joe's coffee shop. She worked from 9-1 three days a week at The Coffee Bean.

The café was a small and unassuming joint wedged between two much lager corporations, but Lilly realized soon that you should never underestimate the effectiveness of the alluring smell of fresh coffee and pastries. She'd only been working for about four weeks, but Lilly had made a good sum of money off the many businesses men and women that splurged there everyday.

The only downside to the situation was Sherlock: When Lilly first told Sherlock about the position, he began to ignore her, locking himself in his room most of the time. When he finally did come around to speaking to her again, it was normally to spout 'café related death' facts that she was pretty sure he made up.

But the truth was, Lilly didn't really enjoy leaving him alone either, not so soon after the wedding at least. He'd already taken the liberty to remove John's chair from the flat, and now she half expected to return to find the couch, her usual choice of seating, thrown out the window. And although she thought that Sherlock was reacting a bit immaturely, she couldn't help worrying that it was because he felt abandoned.

Lilly shivered, the cold water starting to raise goose bumps on her shriveled and waterlogged skin. She thought about giving John a ring, whom she and Sherlock had heard very little from since the wedding. He would probably know how to lift Sherlock's spirits though, because God knew that she couldn't do it alone.

Deciding to try calling, Lilly pulled the plug from the bottom of the tub to drain the water. Silently, she stepped onto the cold tile and wrapped a clean towel tightly around her body as the water gurgled down into the pipes behind her. She then opened the bathroom door, letting out all the warm a steamy air. Lilly entered her closet and dressed in a pair of old blue jeans and a red flannel.

Then Lilly grabbed her cell phone from her bedside table, scrolling through her contacts and clicking on John Watson's number. He picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?" John Watson's voice crackled through the phone.

"Hey, John, how're you doing?" she said.

"Good..?"

Lilly sat down on her bed, "listen, I was just calling because, I'm worried about Sherlock,"

"Sherlock? Why?" John questioned from the other end of the phone.

"Lately he's been really grumpy- more than usual- and he got rid of your chair, and I think that you being married now and me having this job is making him feel... lonely,"

"Wait, he did what with my chair?" irritation entering his voice.

Lilly sighed, "John seriously Sherlock is not okay. He's your best friend, you need to be here for him,"

Now it was John's turn to sigh, "okay, I'm sorry you're right,"

Lilly began to tell John that she would be over to Baker Street in fifteen minutes when she was interrupted by a sudden blast, launching her from her bed and onto the hard wooden floor. The explosion threw her phone from her grasp, but she could still vaguely make out the worried cries of John. Slightly disoriented from hitting her head so hard on the ground, Lilly struggled to stand up, just noticing the fire starting to climb the walls of her flat. Coughing, Lilly fell back to the ground, assessing the situation.