Out of breath, I trudge up to the doorstep of 221B with two full grocery bags in hand. I shift the bag in my right hand so it is leaning against my left and balancing on my thigh. With my free hand, I knock on 221B's large black door.
When the door opens. I expect to see Mrs Hudson standing there, maybe with a cuppa tea in hand, but instead the door opens to display a tall, pale, piercing-eyed man. It takes me a while to recognize who it is, but then it hits me. It is, of course, Sherlock.
"Sherlock!" I yell, thankfully not catching the attention of any passerby. He opens the door fully to let me in, but I stay planted where I am.
"Good afternoon to you, too." he remarks snarkily.
"Sherlock," I growl in a low whisper, scolding. "why are you answering the door?! Someone might see you!"
"They would have a lesser chance of spotting me if you would step inside." he states. He had a point, so, reluctantly, I step inside.
In the foyer, Sherlock offers to take one of my bags. I let him, and thank him, but something seems a bit off. In the web pages I visited, they pictures his as arrogant, selfish, impolite, and a show-off. Now... he seemed to be acting the opposite of that. Maybe his fall changed him?
Sherlock and I make our way up the stairs, to 221B. "Where'd Mrs Hudson go, then?" I ask him.
"She left to get more tea 19 minutes and 16 seconds ago." he replies. I smirk. Well, the web pages got one thing right; he is exact.
Sherlock practically kicks the door down opening it, which makes me glad that Mrs Hudson isn't around to hear it. ("Did you have a bad day, dear? Here, some tea will help.") He sets the bag of groceries on the coffee table, which is once again layered in papers. I sigh at that. But he has seemed to keep the rest of the flat more or less the way I organized it.
"So, what's a detective to do when he is thought to be dead? Have you got any work?" I ask him, setting the other grocery bag on the coffee table as well. Sherlock goes over to his desk and sits down in a chair he pulled up to it, and starts work.
He looks up at me, then pauses. "You kept the skull." he states, rather randomly.
"Yes, I did. I like it." I say. "Now, won't you answer my question?"
"And what was that?" he asks.
I sigh, trying not to show my annoyance. "When do you do, since everyone assumes you're dead?"
"Not everyone assumes I'm dead. Some people know I'm alive." he says, his expression unreadable, as always. "But I've already told you. I disable Moriarty's network. And I solve some cases. But fewer than I did..."
"Back when you were famous?" I finish for him. He doesn't show any sign of hearing me.
I exhale and grab the grocery bags, trudging over to the kitchen. I set then on the kitchen island and start to unpack them. Milk, eggs, flour, strawberries, a box of porridge, carrots -
"Clara, dear, would you like some tea? I got some more Earl Grey."
The voice of Mrs Hudson makes me jump. I frantically look around, trying to find Sherlock, but he seems to have disappeared. I gulp and turn to face Mrs Hudson.
"Uh, sure, Mrs Hudson. Er, how did you get in?" I ask her.
"Why, the door, dear." she answers, smiling a smile that says, what a silly question. I smile nervously back.
"Well, would you mind knocking before you come in?" I ask her, and take another ingredient, pepper, out of the bag.
"Oh, that wouldn't be a problem, dear. I'll try to remember." she promises.
"Thank you," I say, and take the cuppa Earl Grey gently from her hands.
"What's with all the papers, dear? I thought you work at a diner?" she steps away from me and looks around.
"I-I do, these are just... bills." I lie. Man, I am a terrible liar.
"Well, alright." Mrs Hudson smiles, "You have fun with that."
"Oh, I will!" I joke as she leaves the flat.
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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘪𝘥𝘦 | 𝘖𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 2 ✔︎
FanfictionA great man has fallen in London. Clara Oswald is disoriented and looking for another home. Ash is back, seeming to never have left. Then one day, a mysterious man appears in the diner. Sequel to 'Guilty Until Proven Innocent'. Previously titled 'Bu...
