Holly awoke to the sound of pounding on her door. It wasn't even 7 am. She groaned, pulling the pillow over her head. Her sister's bed was warm and soft, and she didn't feel like getting up, ever.
The pounding only grew louder.
She woke up a little bit more, and for once, panicked slightly. What if it was the guy who kidnapped her sister? Holly had a smaller, more petite build than her sister—and she envied her sister's curves—and if he could drag her out while she was putting up a fight, then he could drag out Holly.
Holly didn't think of herself as weak, she was just tiny.
"Holly, open the door. We're not the intruders I can assure you." Sherlock's voice, muffled by the door, floated throughout the house. She breathed in a sigh of relief, tugging the hair tie out of her hair, letting it fall down in messy waves.
She tried tugging her shorts down as well, but to no avail. She shrugged, figured this was as good as it was going to get, and padded over to the door.
She was wearing her University's over large, over comfy pullover sweatshirt, which pooled literally everywhere around her. It was warm, and it's not like she had anyone to impress while she slept.
For now, she figured she could at least attempt to wear pants instead of shorts. And maybe a nicer top.
"Uh, sorry. I wasn't expecting anyone this early…" She trailed off, once again tugging on her shorts. It's not like her shorts were disgustingly short or anything, she was just a genuinely self-conscious person. She preferred being covered.
"You don't have a boyfriend." Sherlock stated, sliding past her into the flat, John tagging along with him. It wasn't a question or even an accusation. Just…a statement.
"Um…that's right?" It is way too early in the morning for this.
"Why do you own such an impossibly large sweater?" He stopped and stared at her as if he was really trying to figure this out, and couldn't. He looked more than a little ticked off.
"I bought it at my University. I like big sweatshirts." She shrugged, pulling it up over her shoulder where it began sliding. Sherlock eyed the movement, but again, he didn't look leering.
"So, uh, would anyone like some—wait, how did you know where I lived?" Holly stopped mid sentence, turning around the face them. John shrugged, and pointed over to Sherlock.
"I follow him, not the other way around."
Sherlock sighed as if being around them was making him more stupid. "You had a St. John's University pin on your bag the first day you came here. That narrowed it down considerably. If you were paying for college on your own, I figured you didn't own a car. So, biking or walking distance away then. You had nice, clean sneakers on, however, so running around and tripping at night wasn't an option, so I deduced you weren't from a terrible neighborhood, so, I narrowed it down to this street and Kamden street. Your sister was in a flat, and Kamden doesn't have flats, so, here. Your sister was on her own as well, I presume, so it wasn't that extremely expensive flat around the corner. Checked the doorbell name labels, there was April Michaels."
He took in a breath of air.
"That was amazing!" Holly exclaimed, not noticing the shock on both John's and Sherlock's faces. "What else can you do?"
John stepped ahead of Sherlock before he could gloat. Which he was going to do…very soon. "Now, Sherlock, you can brag later. We came with news, Holly."
Sherlock pouted from behind him, but didn't say a word.
"Ah! Right, of course. Let me set some tea. Do you want any breakfast?"
"I'll have whatever you're having, thank you Holly." John smiled warmly, sitting down at the table and looking around a little
"Just tea for me, thanks." Sherlock mumbled, taking a walk over to the bed area. The covers were still warm from Holly, and there was a bunch of her clothing strewn over the floor.
"Sorry—I told you I wasn't expecting anyone yet…" She blushed, scrambling eggs and pouring them onto the pan. They sizzled.
"No, it's fine. Do you remember where the items were found, Holly?"
"The gloves and note? Yes. The note actually was hidden beneath a corner of the blanket that was on the floor; I'm guessing he left it before she started struggling."
Sherlock nodded, slightly impressed. It was an easy deduction, but still, not many people noticed the little things.
"And the gloves were just lying on the side of the bed. I tried to figure out if there was some sort of meaning...but they were just messily lying there, like they were thrown or fell out of a pocket. They definitely didn't look placed." She divided the eggs onto two plates, toasted mini bagels for her and John, and set a plate in front of him. His answering grin was blinding.
Sherlock didn't say anything, just observed the area. A couple of times, he picked up what seemed to be nothing but dust and small strings of hair from the floor and put them into tiny Ziploc bags.
"Tea's ready." She brought each cup to the table, setting them down in front of John, herself, and a place for Sherlock. She left the milk and sugar on the table for them; she didn't know how they liked their tea.
She was surprised to find John making Sherlock's tea, and smiled.
"How long have you guys been friends? You seem well suited for each other." John looked as if he were about to fight back (not actually upset, just so she didn't get the wrong idea), so she hastily added "as friends, of course."
"6 months, 4 weeks, and 7 days." Sherlock said distractedly, and Holly snorted. He looked up, actually slightly alarmed.
"Sorry, I tend to snort when I laugh sometimes. Most people never guess." She grins and shrugs, already growing used to Sherlock's calculating stare.
"Anyway," She continued, "You said you brought news?"
"Yes, yes! We're going to visit Lestrade, actually. We want him to inspect the gloves."
"Lestrade?" She questioned, looking at John. Sherlock, however, was the one who continued.
"Lestrade is a detective, he works with the police. I noticed a symbol inside of the gloves, one that is familiar. I'm just comfirming with Lestrade."
"Right…okay. I'm going too, right?"
The two men blinked at each other. "We…well, normally we don't—"
"John, this is my sister. Literally the one person I tolerate on this planet. I want every possible part in finding her, do you hear me? Every part. Even the dangerous ones. I would be doing this myself, but like I told you—I don't really know what I'm doing without you guys. I promise not to be a handful; I can take care of myself. So, please?" She bit her lip and looked between them frantically, widening her eyes. She didn't do it often; she found it annoying. But she was growing desperate. It might not work on Sherlock…but John seemed to be the type who fell for puppy-dog eyes.
She was right.
"Well—it's alright with me. What'd'ya say, Sherlock?"
Sherlock sat silently for a moment, watching her with another calculating look. She stared back unwaveringly.
"I suppose having a female actually does make things easier. Females have an easier time getting into places that have security. Can you act?"
"Of course I can act. Can you breathe?" She shot back, feeling giddy and smug at the slight twitch of his lips. That was the closest to a smile she's seen, so it totally counted as a victory.
"Well then. We'll be off. Go put on something slightly more presentable, even though I'm sure Lestrade and Anderson would let you in without any explanation."
Holly flushed and tugged on her shorts, grumbling about men and their perverse nature. She left them in the kitchen and threw on a pair of skinny jeans and a slightly large jumper; keeping her warm. It hung to her mid thighs, and she looked quite tiny, but it was her favorite jumper. She slipped on her flats and threw her cell phone into her bag, as well as some money and other things.
Sherlock was tapping his foot impatiently so Holly stuck her tongue out at him. He watched in confusion, actual confusion, and she laughed. John just eyed the two of them, amused. Sherlock didn't get baffled often; but then again he guessed no one stuck their tongue out at them often.
"C'mon, we don't got all day." She winked, skipping out the door.
They took a taxi to the office, Sherlock blissfully ignoring Donovan and Anderson when they got there. At least, he tried.
"What're you doing here, freak?" Donovan was sneering at him, and Holly's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. She saw the way the slightly easy, calm face turned hard and cold. She thought that before he was being aloof, but that was him relaxed, at least slightly.
Holly's eyes narrowed at the woman who stopped in front of her. She was eyeing here curiously. "And who is this? How did you manage to get a cute girl to follow you around? How much is the freak paying you?"
"Sherlock" she spit out, watching the way Donovan recoiled, "is not paying me to follow him. He's—he's my friend." She made sure to wink, and slip her arms around Sherlock's arm. He looked a bit startled, but she stepped on his foot, giving him a slight glare.
"She's my friend, Donovan. Now if you'll excuse us, we have a case to solve."
The three of them pushed past her, hearing her mutter something about him being a freak, and brainwashing John and this redhead. Holly just rolled her eyes, pulling back from Sherlock's arm. She felt a little cold in the arm, but didn't mention anything.
"I'll go ahead, stop in to let Lestrade know to behave; we have guests." He left abruptly, and Holly chuckled, leaning against a doorframe. John was eyeing her curiously.
"What is with that look that everyone seems to be giving me?" She huffed, pushing her fringe out of her face with her palms, something she began to do as a habit.
John just chuckled. "Sherlock barely lets anyone touch him. He barely even lets anyone call him his friend. You should feel honored." His tone was humorous, but Holly could see seriousness behind his eyes. Clearly, Sherlock didn't let people in and just tolerating her was something new. She could see John telling her not to blow it.
"Maybe it's the red hair." She grinned, watching Sherlock poke his head out of an office, beckoning them in.
Holly peeked into the door, and Lestrade straightened up, looking confused. "When he meant company, I thought he meant a skeleton or something dead—not…not a person. A female. How do you know Sherlock?"
"Why does everyone seem so baffled that he happens to have a female friend? He is quite interesting, you know." She could feel everyone's eyebrows go up from this, and she wondered how weird this guy must have really been if everyone, including himself, is shocked.
Sherlock didn't seem like the type of guy to be shocked.
"Right, well, while you all gape like fish…" She started, grinning at them. Sherlock recuperated the quickest—obviously—and was already standing like he hadn't been shocked. Which he totally was. Holly saw his face.
"My name is Holly, pleasure to meet you Detective Lestrade." She shook his hand, smiling pleasantly. "My sister is missing. She's been gone for a week now, well, 5 days, and—the gloves. Did Sherlock show you the gloves?"
"Yes, in fact he did. I'm sorry to say, to all of you, that the symbol isn't actually the same. It's quite similar, however, so we feel that he must be in the same division. We're having the insides scraped for DNA tonight. Should we get men to check out the place?"
"No, no…that's okay. I sleep there." She shrugged, watching Lestrade's face scrunch up.
"You sleep in a place where your sister was just abducted from? Alone? Men, how do you let this happen?"
Sherlock simply shrugged, while John had the decency to look slightly more flustered.
"They took what they wanted for now, no one would be coming back for Holly anytime soon. She'd be fine in that place, but if it bothers you so much, and now I can see that it's bothering John because his face is flushing and he's having that eye spasms that he gets when he's growing upset—"
"Thank you, Sherlock. Continue relevantly, please." John grumbled, and Holly giggled. She looked confused, though. She could take care of herself, and Sherlock was right, no one would be after her when they had her sister and wanted to play a game with her.
"But if it's bothering everyone so much, she is welcome to stay at our flat, right John? I don't sleep, my bed is available. I like the couch anyway. I think on the couch. Nicotine flows better when I have the exact angle of position as the couch." Sherlock explained, but Holly was too busy feeling like a burden.
"I already have you guys doing me a favor by taking this case—really, I'm fine in that flat. Can we just—this isn't about me. I just want to find my sister." She was growing aggravated, people were treating her like she was some breakable thing. She didn't like the attention people were giving her 'looks' either. She wasn't beautiful like April or her mum, people didn't have to lie. She didn't even complain about it, she just didn't like unneeded compliments.
Sherlock was frustrated as well. Honestly, he didn't have time to deal with people. Sentiment made things worse, it made him not focus on the case. He didn't have time to be worrying about where she would sleep, but now that Lestrade brought it up, it wasn't leaving his mind.
"John, talk to her. I'm going out to think." He stormed off like a child, and Holly folded her arms over her chest and pouted.
"You're both children!" John exclaimed, looking at Sherlock's retreating back and then at Holly, who looked at her arms.
"Holly," he tried again, softer this time. Lestrade was just grinning from his seat. "We only bring it up because we don't want something to happen to you, too. You want to help your sister, and the first step is to make sure you're okay. How can you help her if you're not here?"
Holly mumbled, knowing they were right. She just—she didn't like feeling like charity.
"I'm sorry," she looked at them sincerely, "I must sound like a spoiled brat. I'm just, growing tired of this whole thing. This wasn't supposed to happen."
Lestrade looked at her with sympathy, which she normally would have glared at, but it was comforting at the same time. "Things like this happen all the time, and I know it doesn't sound like comforting words, but we solve them all the time. We have a chance to find your sister, too. Just take a breather, yeah?"
She nodded, and walked out with John by her side. "So are you—am I—"
"You're welcome, in fact we'd prefer if you stayed with us. If you feel bad about taking Sherlock's room, which he really doesn't use, I know Mrs. Hudson has a spare room that she'd be more than willing to let you have. She's been asking about you nonstop."
Holly smiled, warmth coiling in her belly. She never had a mother figure, not really, who cared enough to ask about her.
"Well—okay. I need to get some of my things, though. And it—it's not permanent. I like staying with my sister, or at her flat."
John nodded, smiling. "Of course."
When Sherlock returned to the flat, Holly was already there, curled up in a ball in that alarmingly large sweater. He calmed down from before, not letting irrational anger get out of him. He thought it through, and the only thing he could come to conclusion with was concern. The word brought a disgusting taste to him mouth, but he figured he could nip the bud at the beginning, get the case done quickly, and not have to worry about Holly anymore.
"I'm sorry…"She mumbled, biting her lip—clear signs of nerves and embarrassment—and looking at him through her lashes—heavy guilt.—
He nodded and ignored her, not saying anything else. He was back in character though, and John had told her that apologies weren't his thing. He didn't like accepting real ones, and he didn't like giving them. Things were okay if he went back to his usual self, which is what he did. Relief filled Holly and she felt herself breathing easier. Sherlock was weird, and brilliant, and she wanted to be his friend.
She bounced up onto her knees, peering over the couch as he went to the kitchen. John was in the shower, but he left Sherlock's tea on the counter.
"So, what else do you know about me?" She asked curiously, smiling as he looked her over.
"Some things are better not shared."
"Aw, Sherlock please? I'm genuinely curious if you could get it right." She knew he liked a challenge, but he knew that he was right. He didn't know how much she wanted to hear. She was still like everyone else though, and he didn't let feeling bad about knowing her problems stop him. He sat down.
"You don't like being watched; you get uncomfortable. This shows signs of self-consciousness. You walk with a false air of confidence that is quite believable to the normal eye, I must commend you on that acting skill. You break eye contact quickly when it's a surprise; so, abuse. Not a boyfriend, you told us you didn't have one. I'm not only going on that, though, but also because the bruises are mostly on your shoulders and arms, whereas a boyfriend would probably grip your hips or legs more. So, probably your father. This means they're still alive, you just don't talk about them. The situation is pretty bad, very bad probably. You don't speak about it, it's as if they don't exist. You're clumsy, tons of small splashes of drinks on your clothes and shoes. You get guilty quickly, you have a strong sense of morals and conscious. You're kind; too kind actually—"
He stopped himself, realizing how much he's been talking. Holly is just watching, mesmerized. Sherlock felt strange, being watched like that. He was always the one doing the watching. Always.
"Okay…some of that stuff would be great that you didn't know, but my God, that was bloody amazing!" She exclaimed, her eyes still wide in awe.
Sherlock loved compliments, especially because he was called a freak more often then not. Still, he did his best to looked decent. He rubbed his neck lightly and sipped his tea, nodding his head in a slight thanks.
Holly's smile widened as John came down stairs. "John, John, do you know what Sherlock can do? With his—and the—"
"Yes, Holly." He grinned.
"You people should come up with new words. John's already worn out every synonym to that word in the dictionary."
Holly cracked a grin as well, and surprisingly, so did Sherlock. The three of them sat down, watching telly and calming down.
Things shouldn't be comforting when you're sister is missing. But right now, all Holly felt was warm.
hee, hi guys!
this chapter is actually longer than any of them, standing at 9 pages. I just didn't know where to end it.
this was a filler, sorry guys. I'll be getting more point-ful information in soon,
things are going to start kicking off with her sister, and the case, and things.
unless you guys are liking the progression of their relationship as well, and want stuff like this too.
you have to tell me! otherwise i don't know what i should work with. and my fingers just write. xD
anyway, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments make me motivated. c:
Hope your nights are swell! xx