Born in Black and White

Chapter 10

Days had passed and Kairi was about as healed as she would get. The bites on her body were gone and she no longer felt sick and weak from the venom of the Black Widows. She was due to start back with Mycroft the next Monday, but the thing she was looking forward to most was today.

Today was the day she would pick up Appa.

She was happier than she had felt in years.

She wouldn't pretend that living with Sherlock and John wasn't an oddly enjoyable adventure. Within a week she had seen more severed body parts and heard enough violin concertos to last her a lifetime. Though she had to admit, watching Sherlock play his violin was truly an out of body experience. If she could watch him play that beautiful instrument all day long, she would. His fingers moved elegantly over the strings and his arms moved with grace and power as the bow glided across the taught strings. It was enough to make any music lover's toes curl in ecstasy, but then he would spoil it with his talking.

He truly was brilliant to watch work. The way he fussed around with his experiments and his cases. He seemed to solve three just in the last week she had been living there. They weren't even simple cases, "Police baffled!" the headlines would read, but somehow, this man would defy all possibility, piece together the impossible and draw conclusions where none could be found. He was brilliant and Kairi couldn't help but respect him.

Though she'd never, ever admit it to him.

She did frequently spend time with John and occasionally Molly who had gotten chummier as of late. They'd watch crap telly, discuss tabloids, and of course the cases that seemed to flow in and out of Baker Street as quickly as air. She did enjoy her time spent with John, the splinter of normality in Sherlock Holmes' crazy world. Kairi liked to think he enjoyed her company too, especially when Sherlock was on a tirade and he'd lash out at either of them. Sometimes she would take the heat and give John a much needed break.

Most of the time John would take it, rebuff it with a simple "piss off" and then move on. But Kairi, well, Kairi was Kairi and nine times out of ten, she and Sherlock would end up in a shouting match. They would end up seething at each other and then they would burst apart violently, Kairi retreating to Sherlock's room to cool down and Sherlock would vanish to walk the streets and consume himself in work. Probably why his case-rate was so alarmingly stunning as of late.

They were like a pair of magnets. Unusually drawn together when the timing was right, working in unison and fitting together nicely. But the moment the tides turned, they repelled each other almost violently and nothing, not even science could bring them back together.

She couldn't help but shake her head as she sat in Sherlock's bed, the silky covers enveloping her. She would be quite sad to find herself a new place in the coming days. She would not be returning to her flat. Regardless of the fact that she had been literally overcome by thousands of spiders, she could not bear to live or feel comfortable now that her privacy had been so thoroughly invaded. Slowly but surely, some of her clothes were returned, pressed and cleaned and spider free. Most days she could feel comfortable wearing her own items, tucked safely away in an airtight suitcase Lestrade had brought her when she had been questioned. But other days she could sill feel the prickling on tiny legs and fangs ghosting all over her body. Especially while she slept.

Another reason to look forward to Appa, he was like a giant teddy bear she had dreamed of as a child. One that would protect her from her nightmares. They had been more frequent in this past week. She would wake up murmuring, crying, sometimes even screaming to see Sherlock Holmes, fully suited, or John Watson in is knickers and an undershirt, burst into her room to save the day. She would always apologize and somehow get back to sleep. Sometimes John would stay with her, offering her a glass of warm milk or a soothing hand to help calm her until she felt safe enough to fall asleep. Sherlock would almost always leave immediately, without a word or a response to her teary apology. More often than not, she would cry herself back to sleep, the empty, soundless, body wrenching crying of the hopeless, but eventually she would sleep. She would feel safe. She would almost feel at home.