AMELIA'S POV
"How come you have a Scottish first name if you're Irish?" John pondering, walking into the living room. I shrugged.
"I dunno," I mumbled, reclining on the couch. "I just do."
"And how come you have red hair but Moriarty has black hair?"
"I just do, okay?" I answered, tired of John's pestering.
"How come Sherlock doesn't go by his first name?"
"How am I supposed to know that!"
"I don't know. What is-"
"How come you keep asking weird questions?" I asked, sitting up.
"He's bored." I turned to look at Sherlock.
"We all are," I argued. "Did you ever finish that case with the three murders that Lestrade thought were suicides?"
"Yes," Sherlock answered simply. He leaned back in his chair, holding his hands in a praying position before holding them up to his lips. I sighed, standing up and stretching. I winced before standing up straight again and walking into the kitchen.
"Anyone want some tea or coffee?" I asked, turning the kettle on.
"Black, two sugars," Sherlock said, standing up and walking over to the window.
"I'll just have some tea, thank you." John came into the kitchen and helped me make our drinks. Once they were done, I came out into the living room and handed Sherlock his coffee. He watched me for a second before turning back to the window.
"What are you thinking?" Sherlock asked, sipping his coffee.
"I'm thinking about a lot of things, actually. How my brother shot me, how he was going to kill you and John, how-"
"Why would you be thinking about us?" Sherlock interrupted, turning this time so he was facing me.
"You're my friends. Why wouldn't I think about you?" I asked, staring up at Sherlock before turning and walking out of the room.
Once I was in my bedroom, I plopped down on the bed, thinking about the conversation I had just had with Sherlock. Did he honestly think I didn't care? It's been over six months for goodness sakes! Of course I'd worry about them. Why else would I be staying with them for so long?
SHERLOCK'S POV
I paced around the room, trying to zone out John's endless chattering.
"Why did you ask her that? She's been with us for six months, Sherlock. Six months! Why else would she have stayed with us? You do know she only had to watch us for the first month."
I stopped for a moment before turning around to face him.
"What did you say?"
"She's been with us for-" John started.
"No, no, after that," I said. "What did you say after that?"
"She only had to watch us for the first month." After he said that, the room went deadly quiet. The only sound I could hear was Mrs. Hudson, and she was in the other room.
"Then why did she stay?" I asked, beginning to pace around the room again.
"Sherlock, she stayed because we're her friends," John replied. I stared at him until he shifted uncomfortably under my gaze.
"How do you know that?"
"I know because I stayed for the same reason," John explained.
"No, how did you know she only had to watch us for a month?" I asked, frowning at him.
"Mycroft told us that six months ago, Sherlock. Don't you remember?"
"I try to refrain from listening to the likes of my brother."
"That explains a lot," John replied. I glared at him. He sighed before walking towards the door. "Go talk to her."
"Why?"
"I don't know. It just seems like the right thing for you to do." With that said, John left me standing in the middle of the room, several thoughts flying through my head. My thoughts were interrupted by someone playing a keyboard in the other room. When I came to the door, I paused before opening it slightly.
Sitting on her bed was Amelia, who had her back turned so that she wasn't facing me. She was in the middle of playing a song on the keyboard in front of her, and she didn't seem to notice I was standing behind her. I waited until she finished the song before speaking.
"That was beautiful." She turned, startled at my presence.
"Oh, I didn't see you there, Sherlock," Amelia said, blushing. She turned her head slightly and hid in her hair. "Do you know how to play?"
"Not that song," I replied, sitting down beside her.
"You want me to show you how?" She asked, looking up and me and smiling.
"Sure." For the next hour or so, Amelia showed me how to play the song she was playing, which happened to be called "Jar of Hearts". Once I had learned the song, Amelia let me play it while she sang along with it. The song was slightly amusing, but she seemed happy so I didn't want to stop playing to make her sad. After all, she did save my life. After a while, John came in the room and complained that he was trying to sleep.
"Who do you think you are? Running around, making scars, collecting your jar of hearts, tearing love apart. You're gonna catch a cold, from the ice inside your soul...Don't come back for me! Don't come back at-""
"AMELIA! CAN YOU KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE?" John yelled, crashing into the room. I smirked. "Oh, hi Sherlock. Was I interrupting-"
"No, you're fine," Amelia giggled, playing with her hair. "Sherlock was just playing the keyboard while I sang."
"Well, your singing is pretty good and all, but some people are trying to sleep," John explained, rubbing his eyes. "At least you aren't killing each other."
"Oh please, John. If I was going to kill him I'd do it in style," Amelia said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. John rolled his eyes.
"Go to bed."
"Why?" Amelia asked, giving John her best puppy eyes.
"Because I said so," John said, starting a staring contest with Amelia.
"You're not the boss of me."
"So?"
"I can't anyways. Sherlock's still in my room." Amelia huffed, putting her keyboard onto her dresser before hopping back on the bed.
"Sherlock..." I glared at John before walking out of the room. While walking past him I managed to whisper something to him.
"I thought you wanted me to talk to her."
"Sherlock playing the keyboard and singing songs early in the morning is not what I meant by socializing!" John shouted, turning around to face me. I smirked before turning and walking away.
"Goodnight to you, too, John."
YOU ARE READING
Bored (A Sherlock Fanfiction)
FanficAmelia is the mysterious girl with no last name. Sherlock is the detective with no mystery unsolved. When Amelia appears on his doorstep, claiming to be moving into the spare room in Sherlock's flat, a new mystery is thrown upon the detective's shou...