Moriarty's Musician

Falling for a Sociopath, Part 3

Sherlock swept into his apartment and planted himself in his favourite chair. He studied John and Annabelle as they came into the room, anxious to get started with his questioning. He was very interested at the consideration John gave Annabelle as he led her in, motioning her to the chair opposite him. He hadn't seen this level of care from John since Mary and Mrs. Hudson. She was only his niece, after all. Why did he care so much about her?

Annabelle took a seat and John pulled up another chair. She placed the bundle of Mrs. Hudson's scones on the little table between them. Sherlock continued his perusal of the two without a word. Annabelle was done with him. She stood up and started walking around Sherlock's apartment, ignoring the silent detective.

Sherlock continued to stare in fascination as Annabelle looked at the various nuances of the room. She looked out his window, picked up and peered into each of the jars that made up his odd specimen collection, she studied the patterns on his wallpaper, browsed the science related books strewn everywhere, then... the moment Sherlock had been waiting for. He now knew the essence of this niece of John Watson.

John smiled as he watched Sherlock trying to assess Annabelle. This was going to be an interesting night he'd wager. He chuckled and Sherlock peered at him. It was John's time to end this battle of wills.

"Annie, what do you think of the place?" he asked.

Breaking her silence, Annabelle addressed her uncle with a wry smile. "It's interesting, Uncle John. It has a certain raving lunatic way about it." She looked directly at Sherlock as she said the last few words.

Sherlock steepled his fingers and leaned them against his lips, still studying Annabelle. She sighed and sat back down, smiling innocently at Sherlock.

"You're boring me, Mr. Holmes. Speak or I'm on my way back to Mrs. Hudson."

"Music," he said simply, putting his arms on the armrests and smiling triumphantly at Annabelle. "That is what you want most... music."

There was only a slight blink and an inhaled breath that gave away Annabelle's shock at Sherlock's observation. She looked at her uncle, then back at Sherlock, wondering why she had remained there so long being scrutinized like this.

"And what makes you say that?" Annabelle tried to make her voice remain disinterested as she stared back at him. "I didn't realise I was under interrogation. Goodnight, Uncle John," she said sweetly, dismissing the detective.

Annabelle got up and headed for the door, stopped and turned back to the men. She swept up the scones, happy to deprive Sherlock of any sweet treat, then gasped as his hand closed around her wrist. She glared at him through black-rimmed glasses and he smiled at her, overjoyed that he had discovered her weakness.

Annabelle caught her breath. Goodness, he was handsome. No longer the brooding, irritating man but his features were now softened with a boyish smile. Even when he stopped smiling, let go of her wrist and leaned back in his chair, his eyes still held that lingering mirth. So that was it! The great Sherlock Holmes was not content until he solved every mystery, no matter how small! She better keep him wondering as she didn't think it safe for her to keep seeing him smile like that.

"Please, Ms. Watson, sit down." Sherlock picked up the parcel, unwrapped it and held it up to her. "May I offer you a scone?"

Annabelle sat back down and accepted the proffered gift. John was pleased with the truce between his niece and friend. Maybe this arrangement would work out after all. Annabelle would certainly keep Sherlock guessing and he was positive his friend would watch over her as he tried to figure her out. This was working out very well.