221C Baker Street: A Sherlock Fanfiction

chapter :: two ::

Emmeline leaned outside the massive stone building and watched as students shuffled by, not paying attention to their surroundings. She smiled as a domestic squirrel hopped from a cobblestone wall, down onto the sidewalk, and followed the crumb trail from morning classes. The air was warm and blew small wisps of hair around her face, tickling her button nose and falling in her brown eyes. She decided to walk to the Trinity Art Academy, what other students called 'the Trinity,' and her short stature was adorned with a floral button-up dress that fell mid-thigh. She held multiple papers in her hands that were given to her by her student adviser, Mrs. Jones, and peered at the dress requirements.

DRESS CODE

As a prestigious and leading school in the country, focused on the well-being and education of their students, the Trinity Art Academy enforces a student dress code and uniform so all students can focus on their studies opposed to their clothing. All requirements are mandatory for each student and failure to adhere to the rules will result in the student being sent to their adviser to change or being sent home. If you have any questions about what follows or breaks rules, please contact the number below. 

Sighing, she realized she'd have to make a trip to the Academy Bookstore to purchase multiple materials, clothes, and books. She was required to either wear a skirt, slacks with a blouse, or midi dress. All clothing must contain the Academy Emblem.  Even though it was Friday, Emmeline was very nervous to start school in two days. She hadn't realized how difficult it would be to start somewhere completely new, having no one to talk to or knowing no one. Not only was she experiencing the nervousness for a new school but the feeling of culture shock. Although she's used to everything in America, she didn't know some of the slang that Britain uses. She could fill her anxiety climbing up her throat, the buildings around her closing in and she quickly stood, deciding to walk across campus to purchase her new items and then heading home.

She had been a nervous wreck whenever she met her instructor, who insisted on being called Kelley but Emmeline refused. Her hands had a slight tremor and she could barely make eye contact, let alone talk without her voice shaking. Every time she met someone official or someone serious, she couldn't handle herself. Her anxiety started acting up and showing it's nasty self. She had struggled with it for years, but could never get over it. As she walked out of the Academy's Bookstore with several bags in loading each arm, she noticed the students were typical depictions of college. Multiple people hung out in groups and chatted about gossip, laughing about relationships, or planning the next weekend. However, the only difference between  normal university and the Trinity, all the students toted around their instruments. Violin cases strung over shoulders and clasped in hand, guitars opened and filling the air with plucks. Everyone had their instrument and here, your instrument defined who you were as a person.

After walk for fifteen minutes and avoiding the tourist traps, Emmeline was standing in front of Baker Street once again and noticed Mrs. Hudson outside Speedy's, cleaning the windows fervently and relentlessness.

"Mrs. Hudson," Emmeline rushed forward and placed her bags on one of the tables, "Do you need some help?"

Mrs. Hudson clearly looked from her short stature to Emmeline's height, "No offence, dear Emmie, but you are almost as short as me. I don't think you could reach what I can." 

Emmeline laughs and starts dragging a chair towards the window, "Yes that may be true but I can also," She hoists herself up on the chair, trying to keep her balancing, "Use my advantages." 

Mrs. Hudson laughs and holds the chair steady while Emmeline scrubs the top of the windows and around the sill's edge. Once she finishes, she hobbles down and notices Dr. Watson standing in the frame of the apartment building's door.

"Mrs. Hudson, what have I told you about cleaning the windows by yourself?" He inquires, his head shaking as he moves towards the table and sits, propping his cane near the chair. 

"I wasn't alone and I could've done it myself. I'm not a weak landlady like you think me to be, John. I was a druglord's wife!"

Dr. Watson seems unfazed by this revelation but Emmeline stands shocked and looks between the two, "Dr-Druglord?" Emmeline asks.