Human (BBC Sherlock)

Secrets and a Chase

When Isabelle woke up the next morning, she was a bit confused, a mix of tiredness and unfamiliarity with her surroundings. It didn't take long however for her to recall where she was, letting out a sigh before hesitantly throwing the warm sheets off of her body and sitting up from the bed, taking a look around the bedroom while pulling on a pair of socks. Surprisingly enough, it seemed that Sherlock kept his 'experiments' out of his own room. Isabelle couldn't help but shudder at the thought of if he did.

After stepping into the small bathroom across the hall, Isabelle brushed out the few tangles that had formed in her hair while she'd slept and pulled on a light sweater over her t-shirt. As she made her way to the kitchen, the mix of the scent of cigarette smoke and a hot pot of coffee filled her. She greeted Sherlock with a quiet good-morning as they crossed paths, and he nodded toward the dining table.

"The food on the table is yours." Isabelle continued into the kitchen to find that there was a plate of various breakfast items waiting for her, much to her stomach's delight. She smiled at Sherlock kindly as she walked toward the kitchen counter to grab an empty coffee mug that was waiting for her as well.

"Oh, why thank y-"

"John made it," was Sherlock's abrupt response, quickly clarifying. Isabelle then turned to John himself, who had just stepped back into the kitchen.

"Well then, thank you John," she tried, blushing at her mistake. The doctor nodded in greeting, smiling back at her as he watched her carefully pour coffee into the cup in her hands.

"Sleep alright?" he asked, the two sitting across from each other at the dining table to eat their breakfast.

"Quite well, actually. I was more exhausted than I thought!"

Sherlock groaned inwardly while listening to the two conversing again. Why they bothered to engage in themselves in so much useless conversation was a mystery to him. Why did anyone? They obviously shared some sort of close bond, but the idea of discussing things that were so trivial as they did failed to make much sense in his mind as he collapsed onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh as, just like the day before, he lazily scanned over the day's fresh papers.

There was something that was troubling the detective, aside of course from the fact that his boredom was already nearing the point of agonizing, and it had only been a few days since settling the last case. "Why not ask Isabelle if she'd like to help you out with an experiment of some sort?" John had suggested. "She needs a friend, and I'm sure she'd be willing."

This was of course a ridiculous notion to Sherlock. He didn't need friends, or want them for that matter. Especially considering that Isabelle was on of the reasons he was so bothered. She was tripping him up; he knew there was more to her than what John had told him and what he'd managed to conclude on his own since she'd arrived at the flat, but he hadn't yet figured it out. Was it even worthwhile? Sure, the thought of dark hidden secrets might have intrigued him just a bit, but not yet enough to make it a worthy venture of dedicating his time to. And really, she was little more than another occupant of 221B for the time being. He had only agreed to let her move in for John's sake, after all.

After they'd finished breakfast Isabelle and John both exited the kitchen, Isabelle retreating back to Sherlock's room where her things now were so that she could get properly dressed to head out for the day. Once she had disappeared, John dropped down into one of the armchairs, opening his laptop.

"Anything of interest yet?" he asked, peering over at the visibly agitated Sherlock.

"Nothing. It's horrible." he replied. "What's she hiding?"

"Who?"

"The girl, she's hiding something and I don't know what it is." Sherlock clarified, folding up the paper on his lap and staring up at the ceiling.