Orphan on Baker Street

Thirty Sixth: Transparency

I've been treating my cancer with chemotherapy for about a month now. The pains are less frequent, and I'm not that sad because I have Rickey to talk to. At this point, we know almost everything about each other. But I still feel like I know nothing about him... it's weird.

I smile over at him as I explain. "The victims all had two little marks in their necks."

"Like vampire marks?" Rickey asks curiously. I nod at him. "Should you really be telling me all this?" He smirks, and my smile fades a bit.

"That's a good question," I respond.

Just then, Mrs. Hudson walks in. Time goes by quicker now, and my 200 hour treatment feels like 30 minutes.

My aunt smiles down at me. "Dr. Flannagan wants to see you tomorrow and check up on the cancer."

"You make it sound like another person," I chuckle. She laughs too and calls a nurse over to unhook me.

When she goes to sign me out, I collect my things and glance over at Rickey.

"Bye, Rickey," I tell him with a smile.

"Wait," he cuts in, "I don't have your number..." I look down at the phone he holds out to me; it's already opened and ready for me to put in my information, so I do. Then I hand the phone back to him, and he smiles fondly at me. The sides of his eyes crinkle slightly.

"I'll talk to you soon, then," I say hopefully.

He nods and grins. "Bye, Mickey."

I give him a small wave before following Mrs. Hudson out and onto the streets of London.

By the time we get to 221B, I notice Mrs. Hudson grinning happily. I close the door behind me upon entering and turn to see her standing right there. At first I'm alarmed, but then I giggle.

"So, who was the boy?" she asks excitedly. "He looked nice!" I blush.

Then, I launch into a monologue - for lack of a better word - all about Rickey and his family and his hobbies and his favorite books. All the while, Mrs. Hudson prepares my post-chemo snack (oreos and milk), and I'm not done until my food is gone.

"What sort of cancer does he have?" Mrs. Hudson asks curiously, taking my dishes over to the sink. She only sets them down and returns to her chair across from me at the kitchen table.

"He's got skin cancer - on his side," I gesture to my side like he did on that first day. "He thought it was a mutated birthmark." The two of us giggle.

"I'm glad you're happy, Mickey," Mrs. Hudson says softly. "Should you have really told him about the case, though?"

I shrug. "Let's ask!" I lead the way to Sherlock's flat and open the door. His violin playing halts as the door squeaks slightly.

"When did you two get back?" he asks monotonously.

"Not too long ago... how long have you been playing violin?" I inquire. I didn't hear it at all.

"I sort of lose track of time when I play," Sherlock replies. Then he looks out the window at the sky. "It's probably been an hour." Then he looks back over at us. "What do you want?"

"Oh," Mrs. Hudson cuts in, "Mickey was talking about the case to this boy at the hospital. Is that against the law?" she finishes nervously. I repress a laugh, and Sherlock frowns.

"Why were you talking about the case?" Before I can reply, he continues, "And no, it's not illegal, Mrs. Hudson. Just... frowned upon."

"Oh, thank goodness," Mrs. Hudson folds her hands over her chest.

"Well, I was just telling him about what I liked to do," I tell him with a small shrug. He focuses on securely tucking away his violin before turning to me. I'm surprised to see a small smile on his face.

"Why don't you have him over for dinner tonight? I'd be more than happy to make it." Mrs. Hudson opens her mouth to speak, but he raises a hand to stop her and continues casually. "We could even go out; maybe invite John and Mary."

Sherlock lowers his hand and tucks it into his pocket. I blink a few times, allowing his words to sink in. But even then, I have a hard time grasping the concept. It's so simple - why am I having so much trouble understanding? Sherlock just wants to-

"You're going to deduce him," I blurt out. "You don't trust my taste in men, do you?" I press my lips together hard to keep from smiling. The man chuckles and moves closer to Mrs. Hudson and me.

"Am I that transparent?"