The Scarlet Aria (BBC Sherlock and OC Fanfic)

11

 Scarlett bent down to him,"John!" She looked to Sherlock who was in a daze,"Holmes, are you alright?"

He waved her off and the staff who were there to help,"I'm fine. Can we talk in a different location?"

After about three different places to talk and four assault and battery actions, John finally listened. Scarlett tried to reason with him to begin with and then Sherlock continued. Telling him the mission, and how they managed the fall. Needless to say he was shocked, all the while, Mary was laughing her ass off in the back.

"Might want to calm down a bit Mary,"Sherlock motioned,"I'm not really ready to tell the world I'm back."

"Oh,"She stifled it,"okay."

Though John understood every single word that they said, he was still fuming. So he took Mary home.

"What do you say about going to the flat and surprising Mrs.Hudson?" Sherlock grinned to Scarlett.

She thought for a moment,"I haven't met her yet, so yes."

They took off for 221B. The cab ride was done by both of them searching through knowledge, their 'mind palaces'. Scarlett called it a 'Mind Library' but she was starting to like calling it 'Mind palace'. The cab stopped and the two got out with Sherlock paying the cabbie, once he joined her, he smiled and hit the knocker twice.

Mrs.Hudson opened the door and looked up to Sherlock's face,"Oh my dear!" Her arms wrapped around his body and she was crying tears of joy,"Oh good heavens. You're dead!"

"Apparently not Mrs.Hudson,"He hugged back lightly,"I would like for you to meet the girl who died with me. This is Scarlett Watson."

"Pleasure ma'am,"without warning Mrs.Hudson hugged her,"I assume John spoke about me."

She let go,"Oh, I'm sorry. It's freezing out here, come inside,"The two entered,"yes Scarlett, John mentioned you several times. Actually, he told me about how he was technically your father."

"Yeah,"She sighed, putting her coat on the hanger.

The three went up to Sherlock's and... not so much John's flat. It hadn't changed a bit. Without thinking of the consequences, Sherlock sat in his chair with a plume of dust surrounding him.

Scarlett laughed,"What're you laughing *cough* at?"

"Nothing,"She continued to laugh as he sat up and brushed the heavy dust off of him,"So, do you think that you and John will ever make up?"

"It'll happen sooner or later Letta,"He looked down at her face,"he was rather cold, wasn't he?"

"His best friend and his technical daughter come back from the dead, I could imagine he'd be especially cross with us,"She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed,"I just wish there was more we could do for him."

"We're doing our best,"He patted her on the head,"Did you take your medication?"

"Let's not and say I did..."

"You have them for a reason Letta,"He and only started calling Scarlett, Letta for about two months since she found an annoying nickname for Sherlock. Shel Cork. Though it was a harmless anagram, it annoyed Sherlock to death. To get her to stop calling him that, they made an agreement: She calls him Shel Cork, and he calls her Carl Test, but if she calls him Sherlock, then he calls her by Letta or Scarlett,"Off you go, take your meds."

The bag she had on her contained a small gun, makeup wipes, first aid and her medication. The two spent the rest of the night and most of the morning tidying the flat until is was spotless. After the several hours of rigorous cleaning they had managed to: drink close to two and a half gallons of tea, coffee, and water, break nothing, remove the weird stain off of the carpet, and clean out the fridge.

"Are you going to tell everyone you're back?"

"Molly, Lestrade, and John were the only people on my list. John knows so that leaves to visit Molly in the lab and Lestrade in his secret smoking area,"He announced,"I'll see Molly later today and Lestrade tonight. Are you coming with?"

"No, I'm going to write something down while you're gone,"She took her phone out of her bra and Sherlock shot her a strange look,"What?"

"Do all women do that?"

"No, they think it causes breast cancer,"She laughed as she typed,"Go on, do whatever you do."
He brushed off the violin that was sitting on the table and waxed the bow before playing one of his compositions. It was played in a minor key, sad, mournful, and rich. His music was the embodiment of his soul, or at least the part he was willing to show. The notes flowed together and made a story of death, life, pain, and joy.

Mrs.Hudson entered the flat and sat next to Scarlett on the couch. She sat the tray down and lead to her,"I miss this so much."

"He's written a lot more music in the past two years,"Letta sat her phone on her lap,"We made a piece together actually."

The older lady smiled and listened along for hours. There were so many songs tucked away in his mind. New, old, pop, jazz, happy, sad, but all reflecting to Sherlock.

He suddenly stopped,"I'll be back later."

Sherlock grabbed his coat and left the flat. 

So, I wasn't too sure how to do this so it's not the best. Though I hope you enjoyed reading and that you'll come back for more! This is Crystal--Wayne, signing off for now.

BAI!!!!