Sherlock Holmes would not consider himself to be a particularly peculiar man. Yet the woman across from him perceived him to be exactly that; a freak. Her opinion of him was based purely on the moment she had entered 221B.
Laura Tate had extended her hand to introduce herself, "Laura Tate, I assume you are Mr Holmes?" He didn't respond, only stared at her; his face void of emotion. She thought this odd, until he finally spoke.
"Really? Four cats? Then again, filing a divorce often leaves one feeling incredibly isolated." Her mouth was left slightly agape with incredulity. How could he have possibly acquired such information regarding her personal life? Even her parents had not yet been made aware of Laura's separation from her husband.
Laura sat perfectly still in the chair directly opposite Sherlock. She continued to stare at him, waiting for him to ask why she was there; why she was seeking assistance, but he didn't. He only stared back, seemingly studying her. After a few minutes of complete silence she began shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Sherlock soon noticed this and suddenly realised that neither of them had spoken for several minutes.
"I'm waiting for someone" he simply stated, providing no more information.
He saw that she was still staring at him, slight confusion on her face.
"The hairs" he said. Immediately noticing her perplexed expression, he decided it best to elaborate "I spotted four different breeds of cat's hairs on you when you walked in," he began, exasperated at having to explain himself yet again, "as for the divorce, you've recently gained several pounds based on the restriction of your jacket which was purchased less than a month ago, I assume that's when the separation began, you're attempting to disguise your lack of sleep with makeup but no amount of concealer can hide the dark circles beneath your eyes, and of course phantom ring. You reach for your wedding ring, only to realise it isn't there anymore." he finished, not once pausing for a breath. Laura suddenly felt no larger than a mouse scurrying along the barely visible floor of the dusty, unkempt flat.
"You're fifteen minutes late John," the detective pointed out, not at all oblivious to John Watson's feeble attempt at entering unnoticed, "awfully unorthodox considering your usual punctuality."
"Hardly compares to two years" John mumbled, almost too quiet to hear.
At first Sherlock was slightly perturbed by John's remark, since he had assumed John would've forgotten his temporary absence by then, but he soon regained his composure and returned to his usual state of remarkably deep concentration. John carelessly tossed his coat over the back of the wooden chair that would usually be reserved for clients and looked towards Sherlock, curious as to why this woman was sitting in his chair.
"You were late. There was hardly any point making her sit somewhere so dreadfully uncomfortable when your chair was vacant." Sherlock said, glancing at John long enough to see him sigh and sit down in the only chair that remained unoccupied.
As he did so, Mrs Hudson's head appeared seemingly from nowhere and vanished just as quickly. She re-entered moments later with a tray of biscuits, to compliment the pot of tea she had brought Sherlock prior to Laura's arrival.
"Goodness Sherlock, offer the poor woman some tea" she scolded on her way back into the kitchen.
He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Laura, "That won't be necessary, I'd much prefer to discuss my somewhat urgent predicament."
John was the first to respond "Of course, so sorry. I'm John-"
"Watson, I'm aware" she interjected rather harshly, "a friend recommended you both. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't.." she paused, taking a moment to observe the flat and wrinkle her face in disgust "..desperate"
