Ashes, Ashes

Wrapped in Ribbons

- c h a p t e r   t h i r t e e n -

Sherlock stood outside of Emma's door, his hands folded behind his signature black trenchcoat. While it certainly wasn't the worst thing that she could've seen, it wasn't anything that she found partically positive either. She never knew Sherlock for coming along in order to bear good news. No, the last time he had shown up in front of her door, he had been there to query her on the thievery.

He'd already made sure to knock on her door, but she seemed to be taking an awful long time to see who was standing there. This long wait was making Sherlock impatient, making him wish that he hadn't decided to do anything - but the decision had already been made.

"Sherlock," she said, opening up the door just enough so that she could poke out. If Emma needed to close the door, she wanted to do it quickly and carefully. "What are you doing here?"

"I wish to give you something."

"Well, you're going to have to do a bit more than just wish it," she said, staring out at him.

"I have it with me."

"...then, are you going to give it to me, or are you just going to stand there?"

"I would prefer it if we could do this exchange within your flat."

"That's supsicious, Sherlock," Emma groaned, pushing strands of hair away from her face. "Why the hell would you want to come inside of my flat?"

"No, I don't want to investigate your home for any reason. I just thought that this would be somewhat more personal if I were to be allowed inside."

Emma's eyes drifted down to the floor until all she could see were Sherlock's shoes. She looked at how the shiny leather contrasted with the dull and gritty surface of the ground, and found herself wondering what it would be like if she tried to draw such a thing. It would be far from the first time she'd drawn Sherlock before.

"Personal?" she finally asked. "Since when have you wanted to involve me in anything personal?"

Sherlock ended up heaving out a sigh - Emma was being far too difficult for her own good. He decided against simply waiting for her to change her mind, and instead made a move towards the door in order to open it and let him in.

"Hey!" she cried out, trying to wrench the door back from his grip.

"If you believe my behavior to be supsicious, then certainly yours must be as well," Sherlock said. "You're standing here, refusing to let me into your flat. What, exactly, are you trying to hide?"

"I'm not trying to hide anything!" Emma exclaimed, her voice far too shrill for her words to seem believable. "I swear, I'm not trying to hide anything. There's nothing to hide."

"Then let me in."

"No!"

This time, Sherlock wasn't going to let Emma get her way. He had been working far too hard to try and be civil with her, try to be polite to her, try to even be kind and sensible to her, and he was only beeing met with her being stubborn. He ended up grabbing the door from her again and forcing it open, knowing that he was stronger than her to a point where she couldn't stop him.

"Really, Sherlock?" she said as he walked through the door, her hands still clamped around it. He continued moving forwards without a word. He'd done what he wanted to do, and it would be better off for Emma in the end.

"You know, it's not very nice to just force your way into people's home when they haven't given you permission," Emma said, founding her lips slipping into her signature pout.