Consulting Fangirl

Chapter 18: Mai

A/N I'M SO SORRY OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LATE PLEASE DON'T KILL ME

Married life was lovely. It wasn’t too much different from before since I had been practically living with John then, but now it seemed more permanent. Baker Street felt like home. It was home to me now.

“John!” I shouted, the toothpaste muffling the word to sound almost unrecognizable. John came running across the flat, though, already speaking my language.

“What is it?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in the adorable way he did. I didn’t find it as adorable today as I usually did, though, since we were about to have a domestic.

“Why did you move my hair products?” I asked with hands on my hips.

John paled, sensing my irritation with him.

“It was in the way of my shaving cream.” It was a reasonable enough excuse, but I wasn’t in the mood for reason.

“Why do you have to have three bloody bottles of shaving cream? Scared of growing a moustache then?” The sarcasm was strong in my voice.

“I just don’t want to grow one. They’re for hicks or depressed people, and since I am neither, I refuse to grow one.”

“Well why did you have to move all of my hair products? Where am I supposed to put them?”

“I don’t know. Do I have to solve every problem?”

"Here’s a solution,” I shouted before tossing his shaving cream into the hallway. It landed with a clang, startling both of us.

The silence was thick, then, as if on cue, we both started apologizing.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was my fault.”

“I’ll move the shaving cream.”

"I shouldn’t have shouted.”

“Friends?” he asked in an adorably soft voice.

“I believe we’re more than that.” I said with a wink as I pulled him in for a kiss. He smiled into my kiss.

Things became a bit too passionate for the hallway, so I led him to the bedroom.

Later, I sat sipping my tea and scrolling through tumblr, occasionally chuckling to myself. Beside me, the gentle clicking of John’s fingertips on the keyboard calmed my nerves. His blog had started up again, though he mostly wrote about us.

I loved how easy it was between us. We could sit there for hours doing absolutely nothing and still be happy. We didn’t even have to talk for us to understand each other. Occasional glances and smiles were enough for the two of us.

After an hour or so, I glanced over at the clock and jumped.

"Shit! I’m going to be late to work!”

I bolted from the couch and into the bedroom, hastily throwing on my uniform. With a quick kiss on the cheek from John, I jogged down to work.

Collin wasn’t too pleased when I was five minutes late, but since Katie was usually ten on a good day, he let it slide.

“How is Mrs. Watson doing today?” Katie asked in a posh accent.

“Oh nothing. Just slaving away to serve people cheap coffee and receive in turn hardly minimum wage and enough tips to buy a biscuit.”

“No need to be sarcastic.” Katie said with an eye roll.

I served a few people who all seemed to be the same. Each face blended with the last, half smiles and hasty thank you’s.

“Here you go sir. One coffee, black, no sugar.” I said with a fake smile as I handed the man his drink. He spun the mug around, lifting it to his lips with his left hand.

“Thanks love.” His voice was silky smooth, yet it slid across my skin like a snake, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

“Anything else I can get you, sir?” I asked nervously.

“Nothing that’s legal in public.” He replied suggestively. If anyone else had said it, I would have brushed it off as shameless flirting. But for him, it felt wrong. Twisted. My stomach was sick with his words.

“I’m sorry sir, that’s not appropriate-,”

“Have you ever heard of Sherlock Holmes?” He asked suddenly.

My blood ran cold, ice in my veins. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Questions poured through my head at a thousand miles per hour.

“How-,” I started to ask one of them but he cut me off.

"I know for a fact you do, and don’t even bother asking how I know this. Really, I’m disappointed in you. Someone who claims to be his biggest fan should know all about little old me.”

When he lowered his sunglasses, I knew. I would never forget the look of those eyes, those dead brown eyes that seemed to stare at me through the screen as I watched the trial from my living room.

I stepped back slowly and turned around, not even bothering to say goodbye. I couldn’t speak.

“Oh, and Mai,” he said as if we were friends. “If you value your life, and Johnny boy’s too, I suggest you drop the search. Now.” His voice dropped from cheery to deathly within seconds.

 

I kept walking, straight out of the restaurant and back to Baker Street.