ethereality| a sherlock fanfiction

2

2010

Third Person: Omniscient

4:05 AM

"FBI! Open up!"

Sherlock Holmes groaned as his eyes opened slightly. What was an American doing here, and FBI at that? He flinched in annoyance one again when the agent pounded on the door.

"Oh, for the love of God," John mumbled as he stumbled down the stairs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "What could someone possibly want at this hour?"

"I don't know," Sherlock grumbled, turning over on the sofa, the leather squeaking in protest.

"You always know." John paused at the foot of the stairs, brows furrowed.

"Good, John. In fact, whoever is behind that door is, in fact, not FBI. That's obvious, no?"

"Then who--"

"That, John, is the question. I really don't know."

"Open up or I'll break the door down!" The voice came once again, female and muffled to the two men's ears.

"Oh, shut up, it's not even America," Sherlock rolled his eyes, then strode downstairs to join John.

"Do we open the door?--"

"Of course we're opening the door, don't be stupid," and with that, Sherlock swung the door open--

And froze.

After all, before him stood the one person he never thought he'd see again:

Simone Poole.

"Why, how you've grown," the woman breathed. Her American accent had vanished. She reached out to touch Sherlock; but he flinched, and Simone shrunk back.

"Who... Do you two know each other?" John's face grew pale as he looked between the two.

"I did," Sherlock's tone was dead now, his face stone cold. "Not anymore."

And with that, he shut the door in Simone's face.

"Oh, come on!" Simone's voice pierced through the door as Sherlock stalked back up the stairs. "William! Open the door!" A pause, then the door continued to tremble under her fists. "It's fucking cold!"

Sherlock rounded the corner into his room, slamming the door. John remained at the foot of the stairs. "What..."

"John! John Watson!" Simone's desperate voice rang out, causing John to jump. "Please, you have to understand, you have to let me in--"

"I'm sorry, Miss..."

"Poole, but call me Simone. Please," she sighed.

"Miss... Simone, I'm quite sure Sherlock doesn't want to see you."

A pause, then John could hear Simone's exasperated sigh. "You really are an idiot. Sherlock needs help, John, for what's coming for him and you."

"And that is?"

"That's why I'm here. I'm here to help you find out."

Silence reigned for a few more moments, then Simone admitted, "I may need some help from him, as well."

"What?" This wasn't from John, however, but Sherlock. He poked his head out the doorway. "What did she say?"

"She said--"

"I need your help, Will," Simone said. "You do too. I know that. I know that I've been gone, and I know you thought I was dead, and I know that I have a lot of bloody explaining to do--"