Beyond the Case

As I put down my bags on the floor, I look over at the dust covered curtains which hadn't been cracked in a very long while. According to my aunt, mrs. Hudson, I am the first tenant of 221c since Sherlock Holmes had moved in. Apparently no one else had been brave enough to take a flat next to the consulting detective.

I had heard a few stories and even read john watson's blog a couple times but now that I was to be sherlock's new neighbor, I had a new sense of wonder and curiosity towards the strange man

"I'm so glad your back with family dear." She says in a tone of relief. "Right, I'll get something on for dinner while you get settled." She says in a near motherly way. She had been a mother figure to me since both my parents had died in a car accident a moth ago. I look down at my stomach, which is holding cargo which is most precious to me, my unborn baby. I hear aunt Martha upstairs talking about with Sherlock, whom I knew nothing about. I'm almost certain that she is trying to drag him down to have tea or dinner with us. I wish she would just leave it alone as Having someone around is the last thing I want. Almost lazily, I get up and give the curtains a good crack, coughing when nearly four years of untouched dust comes flying into my face and stinging my eyes. I wave the dust away with a few passes of my hand in the air.

"Wow...didn't expect that much dust to be on them" I mutter to myself and throw the fabric to the sides of the window. Soon aunt Martha comes back down holding a try with a tea kettle and two cups

with the fixings.

"This might cheer you up a bit. A nice cuppa to make you feel at home" she says warmly and it makes me smile. "Just this once though!" She says but I know I could count on her for a cup of tea any time because she's usually just about to put a kettle on or she already has one made up. I watch as she scurries out of the room to let me get settled. I start to wonder what life will be like living next to a detective that somehow managed to fake his own death. As aunt Martha comes back down to my flat, I can see him leaving. His long legs make long, lengthy steps, a mess of brown curls sits on top of his head. With out giving the open door of my flat a passing glance, he flips up his coat collar, obviously a practiced motion, exposing the only bit of color on him, a rope of a blue scarf that is tied around his neck and expertly tucked under his collar. The long coat makes it seem as though he was even taller than he really is. I don't see his face as he walks out of the door, closing it with a loud thud. Aunt Martha can see my interest but I resist the temptation to trail after him. Slowly I look up at aunt m.

"When do you know when he might be back?" I ask inquisitively. She looks at the doorway which had just slammed shut and she tosses her shoulders into a shrug.

"You never know with him, dashing about. Never know where you might find him. Got himself caught up in a murder I assume." She says. I just smile as she sets dinner on the table. "Here we go then" she says.

We eat and chat, catching up on things like work and friends. I tell her about leaving my job as an emergency worker and she asks about my good for nothing ex-boyfriend. I shoot her a look which clearly tells her to not go there and we quickly change the subject to Sherlock. She tells me about how he "came back from the dead" and I soak up every bit of it like a sponge.

Once dinner is over, she leaves me to settle down for the night and I have to admit, I am tired so I head to bed. I had been sleeping more lately because of the baby but tonight sleep seemed as though it's path would take it anywhere but to me. As I lay, wide awake, I find myself straining to listen for the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again, but eventually, I fall asleep while still listening for the slightest creek of the wood or the door opening. When morning comes, I find myself awaken by the smooth and beautiful trill of a bow being scraped over the strings of a violin, an instrument that I had always been fascinated with but I just didn't have the time to learn how to play It. I know it must be Sherlock. Aunt Martha couldn't play a note to save her life! I yank on my jeans, throwing on a shirt as I head out into the hallway. I meet aunt Martha right outside my door and I smile at her. "Is that Sherlock?" I ask her, she smiles and takes me upstairs. We walk into the flat to see Sherlock looking out window.

"I thought that was you playing." Aunt Martha pipes up. Sherlock, not at all suprised by the sudden presence of my aunt, quickly turns off the recording of the violin music.

"It was me." He says, not bothering to look up to see who it is.

"Um...we have company." She says. He nods, still not looking back. As opposed to his nearly all black clothes from yesterday, he is now wearing tan slacks and a white shirt. There is a blue robe tossed on a chair which has a violin propped up in it. In looking around I notice how much clutter there is around the flat.

"I've known since last night...bright red hair, long judging by what was left on the banister, chipping fingernail polish, light blue, she's nervous, moved here in haste, she also didn't take everything she owns because it was an unexpected transition, no time to prepare. Young, living with boyfriend or husband, not husband, she didn't sound upset. Perfume, customary scent, always used while going out. She didn't have any yesterday, she was upset, she did today though, she wants to impress somebody. Light smell though something cheap and easy, she was working a fast paced job, but she needed something to cover the smell of antibiotics, she works in an emergency room or ambulance, but she hasn't in about four days, the smell is beginning to fade." He shoots everything at me like bullets out of a machine gun. I have no clue how to reply so I only correct him on the one single thing he had mistaken.

"Three days. I haven't been at work for three days." I say in a soft voice.

"Three days. Of course! There's always something!" He mutters to himself as if disappointed in himself for being wrong in the deduction. I could only wonder what was going through his mind. He paces around, looking like he was bored out of his mind. I watch as he hastily looks at his phone. He mutters to himself. "I want a case...I need a case!" I look at aunt Martha as he starts rummaging around, looking for something. I hear his phone go off and watch as he merely steps over the coffee table in his haste to get to his phone. He mutters something to himself the. He turns to me, looking at me as he puts on his trench coat from last night, "your from the medical world...do you want to help me?" He says, looking dead at me.

I nod with a smile "sure!" I say almost a little to excitedly. He only smiles briefly and I watch as he heads out the door, not bothering to wait for me. I give a happy smile to aunt Martha as she hands me my coat.

"Well go on then!" She says in her usual chipper voice. "Best not keep him waiting" she says. With that I rush towards the door, grabbing my coat on the way out.

A/N: I claim no ownership of any characters created by the BBC and completly respect their rights and ownership to these characters. I do however claim ownership of the characters I have created (such as Cam) and the actions any characters may take in this work. I have completly written this of my own accord and have had no help of such profesional writers. I have had the help of my amazing friend and fellow sherlockian as she has written the part of sherlock. I wrote the part of cam and put it togeather. Chapter 2 is soon to come! Enjoy!!!! Comment bellow and let me know what you think!! :) also the picture is of cam.