Eye Contact *ON HOLD*

What About Maggie?

“Oh, give her a minute or two Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson said, shooing him away. The poor girl’s probably terrified. She’s shivering quite badly as well.” The older woman reached behind Maggie and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch draping it around her. “Let me get you some hot tea, she said, rushing downstairs. Sherlock sighed and flopped into a chair.

“So,” John said. “Maggie?”

Maggie looked up at him.

“Why are you on the streets?”

She closed her eyes and looked away. She didn’t want to tell some stranger about it. A few minutes passed in silence as John looked around the flat and both Sherlock and Maggie sat completely still, Sherlock staring at the woman and Maggie looking anywhere but to him. 

“Here you go dear,” Mrs. Hudson said, coming back up and handing her the cuppa. “Better?” After Maggie nodded, she continued. “You could’ve gotten so sick out there last night.”

Sherlock was sitting in his chair, his fingers steepled as he watched the woman. She sat with her eyes closed, sipping her tea. She looked calm, as if sleeping while sitting perfectly straight. 

But Sherlock saw further than that.

John looked between the two, then around the messy flat.

“Well, as I was saying before you went downstairs, I think this could be very nice,” he said. “Very nice indeed.”

Sherlock cleared his throat and stood, looking around as well. “Yes, my thoughts precisely. So I went straight ahead and moved in.”

He of course said this last sentence just as John said, “Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out,” and the two stared at each other for a moment.

“Oh,” John said quietly. “So this is all…”

Sherlock started toward the kitchen. “Well, obviously I can, um, straighten all this up,” he said, taking a stack of papers and tossing them into a box on the kitchen table.

“So, uh, is she okay?” John asked, gesturing toward Maggie.

Sherlock looked in her direction as he continued picking up things here and there. “Oh, yeah, she’ll be fine. Leave her alone for a bit, she’s busy.”

“Busy?” John smirked. “With what?

Sherlock ignored him and picked up a stack of unopened letters, taking them to the mantelpiece, where he stacked them before pulling out a multi-tool knife and stabbing it into them, and the wood, to secure them. Just then John noticed something on the other side of the mantlepiece.

“Um,” he said, lifting his cane to gesture, “That’s a skull.”

Sherlock looked to it and then back to Maggie, where he had previously been staring. “Friend of mine,” he said.

John opened his mouth to ask just why he had his friend’s skull, but was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson rushing back in. Maggie’s eyes opened.

“Well, what do you think then, Doctor Watson?” she asked, rubbing her hands, “There’s another bedroom upstairs, if you’ll be needing two.”

John stared at her, rather shocked. “Of course we’ll be needing two,” he said, looking to Sherlock as if asking what exactly he had told the woman. Sherlock’s face was emotionless as he turned back to pick up a few other papers, half-heartedly throwing them onto the desk.

“Oh, don’t worry,” the woman said. “There’s all sorts around here.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Mrs. Turner next door’s got married ones.”