Hello Detective

Gregson Part 8

I had finally returned to my flat after a few more fast paced cases with Bass. Most of them in Russia and Europe. I felt like I hadn't taken a breath since we started. Bass and I had been working together for nearly a year now, and we made surprisingly great partners. I had barely unpacked my bag when I heard my doorbell ring and Bass' voice over the intercom.

"Adelaide, it's me. Gonna let me up?" He asked.

I sauntered over to the intercom and pressed my finger to the button to reply.

"Should I?" I asked.

"Me ringing the bell is really just a formality. You and I both know I could pick this lock in 5 seconds." He joked.

"Yes, well you've always been slow. The inconvenience is tempting though." I joked, finally pressing the buzzer to let him in.

Before he made it up the stairs I took my letters to Sherlock out of my duffel bag I was unpacking and stuffed them into a drawer on the TV stand. I was better. Nearly a year and a half had passed and I was able to say his name now without breaking down. I thought that was progress. My life just felt empty now, even though I was barely alone.

When I was in London between assignments I had tea with Mrs. Hudson at least once a week. She hadn't let 221B out, and I couldn't bear to possibly enter it. I'd met John once for lunch since, and he was clearly still not okay. Compared to him I was doing well. Of course he had no idea what I was doing now, though he did know I had quit my job at Scotland Yard. I tried to keep an eye on him, but I was so busy. I had found out that he was seeing someone now and it was pretty serious. I was happy for him. As for me, not much had changed. I worked. It was the one thing I could do to keep my mind off of him.

Bass walked through the door, and after a snide remark about the state of my flat, he made his way over to the couch.

"You know what we need to do tonight?" He asked, putting his feet up.

"Remove your feet from my coffee table?" I asked, and he huffed and moved them back onto the ground.

"We need to go out tonight. Maybe a pub or something?" He said and I rolled my eyes.

"You've got nothing better to do than take a recovering alcoholic to a pub?" I asked.

"Well you don't have to drink, but I need to." He whined.

"Fine, but we should go now, I've got things to do and I'm not staying out all night with you." I argued.

"I know just the place." He stood, grabbed his coat, and lead me outside. We both hopped in a cab and headed to the pub. I was okay being around alcohol, and I would probably be okay drinking it. It just brings me back to a bad time in my life, one that I don't want to remember or repeat.

"No, no, no a blonde drug smuggler who was exposed by an abbot with unusual powers of observation and deduction." I heard as we entered through the door of the pub, Bass behind me.

"A blonde woman hiding amongst bald monks, that wouldn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes." I heard another voice return and quickly whipped around.

"Adelaide?" Anderson asked, and my eyes grew wide in surprise.

"Anderson? Greg?" I asked, surprised to see them both here.

"God, how've you been?" Greg asked, hugging me.

"Busy." I smiled, Charles now standing next to me.

"Who's this?" Anderson asked politely. He had really let himself go: overgrown hair, beard, frumpy sweater. He must have gone downhill after he was fired from the Yard.