Back To The Start (Sherlock fanfiction #Wattys2016)

Chapter Fifteen: A Year Later

A year had passed. A full year of both Abigail and Sherlock fighting their feelings for one another as that day, the last day they really spoke as "friends", both their hearts broke.

While on cases, Lestrade noticed how different Sherlock and Abigail acted. Abigail acted cold towards Sherlock and he did much the same towards her. Both would try to out deduce one another, but in the end Sherlock won. Sherlock always won.

Abigail rarely visited 221b anymore. It came to the point where she'd only come over when Mrs. Hudson invited her for tea, and even then she'd leave before she seen Sherlock

Almost one year after that day that Abigail and Sherlock declared their "relationship" as platonic, Abigail sat in Speedy's. Sherlock had texted her almost an hour ago and told her he needed her over at 221b ASAP. She decided to stop and get a coffee beforehand.

As she sipped on the liquid, which was still hot enough to burn her throat, a man walked up to her. He was tall compared to her, but compared to Sherlock he'd probably be short. He had brown hair and brown eyes and a bit of stubble (A/N: Orlando Bloom). Abigail couldn't lie, he was very good looking.

"Hello," he said. "Um, is this seat taken?"

"Oh, no. You can sit if you wish," Abigail replied. Normally, she'd make light of the fact that there were many empty tables available, but she was desperate to waste time.

The handsome, unknown man sat across from Abigail and gave her a small smile.

"My name is Martin," he said and extended his hand to her.

"Abigail," she replied and shook Martin's hand.

"Pretty name," he said. "To match that pretty face."

Abigail giggled at the compliment and felt her cheeks flare, like they were on fire. It had been the first time in a year that a man had been able to put butterflies in Abigail's stomach.

"Why haven't I seen you around before?" asked Martin.

"I never really stop for coffee like this. I'm usually at my flat or at the flat next door. It's been a while since I stopped for a moment to just relax," replied Abigail.

A year, she reminded herself. It had been a year since she stopped into Speedy's for a coffee and ended up meeting Sherlock.

What a mistake, some part of her mind hissed.

A beautiful mistake, another added.

"Oh," Martin said. "Your boyfriend live next door?"

"No," Abigail answered, almost immediately.

Martin put his hands up in surrender. "Sorry. Just asking."

Abigail sighed, the anger flowing out of her as she did so. "No need for appologies. You see, it's just...it's complicated."

"Need to talk about it?"

Abigail gave Martin a half smile. "No offense, but I just met you. I'm not exactly ready to spill my inner most secrets just yet. For all I know, you could be a serial killer."

Martin laughed. "Why is it always serial killer?"

"Because serial killers are more common. Do you not watch TV or movies? They're everywhere!"

The two shared a laugh. It surprised Abigail how fast half an hour passed. She and Martin just sat there, talking. Martin told Abigail about his job, where he was from, even a bit about his family. Abigail told him about her siblings, some childhood stories she hadn't even told Sherlock, whom she had known way longer than Martin. She noteably left out everything about Sherlock and her job.

Abigail was in the middle of telling Martin about her brother, John, when a figure appeared next to him. A figure Abigail had managed to forget about in the half hour she had sat there, talking to Martin.

"You were supposed to meet me an hour and a half ago," hissed Sherlock.

Martin jumped and looked at Sherlock in surprise. Abigail continued to glare at him.

"Lost track of time," she retorted.

"I'm sorry, who's this?" Martin asked. Abigail tore her eyes from Sherlock to look at Martin. She gave him a softer look than she had given Sherlock.

"I'm so sorry, Martin. Where are my manners. Sherlock, this is Martin. Martin, this is my...colleague, Mr. Sherlock Holmes." She annunciated "colleague" out in the most evil way she knew how. She smirked as she noticed Sherlock flinch out of the corner of her eye.

Martin gave Sherlock a friendly smile and extended his hand. Sherlock ignored him, his eyes glued hon Abigail.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. I must speak to Abigail alone," said Sherlock.

"Oh...alright," Martin said. He turned to Abigail. "Nice meeting you, Abigail."

"You too, Martin," Abigail said with a smile. Martin began to leave, but stopped and turned back.

"Do you think you'd like to have dinner tonight?"

Sherlock was visably pissed. Abigail, who had learned to ignore him very well in the past year, did so and smiled at Martin.

"That's sweet, Martin. I'd love to. How about we meet at a restaurant around 8? Text me which restaurant you choose, it doesn't matter to me."

Martin smiled. "Wonderful. Can't wait. Nice meeting you Mr. Holmes."

He nodded to Sherlock and went off. Abigail gulped down the last of her now cold coffee and stood up. In her mind, she seen herself coming face to face with Sherlock, but in reality, she only came up to just over his shoulder. This meant Sherlock glared down at her.

I wish he didn't have to do that, she thought.

"You are not going out tonight," Sherlock stated. It was almost like a command. Abigail hated to be commanded, especially by Sherlock.

"It's my life, you have no rule over it," Abigail snapped.

"We have a case. I need your help."

"You didn't seem to need it a year ago before you met me."

"Yes but-"

"Sherlock, I'm going out tonight whether you like it or not," Abigail cut him off. "This is my life. I get to live it however I want."

The two just stared at one another, forgetting completely that there were other people around.

Abigail was getting fed up with Sherlock. One moment he was leading her on, the next he was telling her he wanted to have a "platonic relationship", then he was acting like an overprotective boyfriend. Abigail was fed up.

She brushed past Sherlock and began walking towards the door. She was planning on going home and getting ready for her date, completely ignoring the texts she knew she'd be getting from Sherlock the moment she walked out. But Sherlock's deep, husky voice caused her to halt at the door.

"I don't think you should go out tonight."

Abigail didn't turn to face Sherlock. "Just because you don't like him-"

"It has nothing to do with how I feel towards that man, I just don't think it's a good idea." This time, it was Sherlock's turn to cut Abigail off. "It's not going to end the way you think it will, I'm almost positive about it."

Abigail paused. She knew he must've deduced something from Martin. She was so busy just talking to him that she didn't try to deduce him. She turned to face Sherlock.

"What did you get?" she asked.

"Nothing," Sherlock replied. "Well, nothing of importance. But there's something...I'm almost positive...this night is going to end badly."

Abigail kept Sherlock's gaze. It brought her back to the day they met, as she stood in line waiting for her coffee and noticed Sherlock. The staring contest they had that was broken by the cashier impatiently waiting for Abigail to take her coffee.

Unlike that day, Abigail was the first to leave. But not before saying, "Don't you dare try to ruin my night, Sherlock Holmes. I will never forgive you if you do."