Orphan on Baker Street

Thirty Seventh: Plaid

After hashing out dinner plans with Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock, I curled up on my bed and took about 5 minutes to send a text to Rickey. No matter how hard I tried, how differently I worded it, it always ended up sounding pretty awkward, so I gave up eventually and sent it before laying my phone face down on my nightstand.

He probably won't even find it awkward. I mean, he's a nice guy - even Mrs. Hudson noticed that. Surely this won't go as terribly as I think it will...

I decide to occupy myself with getting dressed. The restaurant we're going to isn't that fancy, so I decide upon a dress with casual tights and casual shoes. You can't go wrong with boots, right?

The bathroom sink is littered with my make-up products, and I sigh. While I'm sorting it all out - putting the ones I won't use in the bag and keeping the ones I need on the sink - my phone makes a noise that sounds like glitter. It startles me, and I drop my mascara.

My thumb shakily unlocks my phone, and I stare down at Rickey's message.

lol yeah i'm up for it. what time do u think youll get there?

I let out a relieved sigh and grin up at my reflection in the mirror. This is going to be great! Sherlock will approve of him, because why wouldn't he, and Rickey and I will live happily ever after with little kids that don't have cancer but will find the cure for it. They'll be so smart and so cute, and their names can rhyme like ours do, even though that's a little cheesy and-

A knock on the door pulls me from my daydream. "Mickey?" It's Mrs. Hudson. I open the door and peek out. "We're leaving in about 20 minutes, alright?"

"Alright," I smile at her. "Rickey can make it." We grin at each other.

"That's wonderful, dear! Well, I'm off to finish getting ready. Don't forget to brush your hair," she tells me before shuffling off down the hall to her room. I close the door.

In the mirror, I see that Mrs. Hudson was referring to the frizzy side of my head. That must be from when I was laying down on the bed. I quickly tell Rickey that we're leaving in 20 minutes, he promptly replies with "me too", and I proceed to put on my make-up. Then I brush my hair and struggle with figuring out how to wear it. In a ponytail?; should braids be involved?; do I pin some back? I decide to straighten it quickly so that it's perfectly parallel on either side of my face. I look amazing.

When I go out into the foyer, Sherlock is in the process of buttoning the cuffs of his navy blue button-up.

"Where's your coat?" I ask him.

"It's a little too warm," he replies simply. I don't think that's why he isn't wearing it. "You look nice," Sherlock compliments, sounding like he was forced to say it but not sounding menacing.

"Thanks." I smile at him. Mrs. Hudson emerges from the door behind me, and I move closer to the stairs as she walks out, focusing on closing her purse. Then she smiles over at the two of us.

"Are we all ready?" she asks. Sherlock goes to hold the door open for us, and we all move out onto the streets. The setting sun casts a soft orange glow over the cars that go by. Mrs. Hudson hails a cab, and the three of us file into the back seat.

+

When we get out of the cab, I spot Rickey walking up with his hands in the pockets of khaki pants. He still wears his work boots and beanie, but something about him just seems a lot more professional and groomed - not that he doesn't usually look groomed. His button up shirt is plaid and red like my dress, and we share a laugh.

"You know what's funny?" I remark. "This dress used to be a shirt."

"Really?" he asks.

"No," I say awkwardly. We laugh again. Mrs. Hudson comes from behind me and offers a hand to Rickey.