Walking out into the cold air of Paris and dived into my coat pocket. Pulling out a white box and silver lighter I pulled out a cigarette before putting it between my lips. Stuffing the white cigarette box in my coat pocket before I put my gloved hand up and flicked the lighter.
Wind whipped around me while I tried to light the end of my cigarette, goose bumps all over my pale skin. I disposited my lighter and took a puff before pushing out the smoke and watched it be taken away from me by the harsh cold wind.
Taking another drag I blew the cigarette smoke out of my nose before I watched a car pass by.
"You do realize smoking is bad for you."
"So's putting your nose in someone else's business," I replied in a heartbeat.
"You've got more bite than I remember."
Then it clicked. I turned around, my eyes connecting with his before I glared at him. "I remember you swan diving off of a building," I spat, ripping my cigarette out of my lips before I threw it onto the side walk and grounded my high heel into it.
"I told you to watch-"
"I suppose it was your plan for that ass to crash into my car then," I spat, stomping up to him before I glared up at the tall bastard.
"It was meant to be a small one-"
"And I ended up in hospital for six weeks." I turned, walking back to my apartment building. He grabs a hold of my upper arm and forces me to turn around to stare up at him.
"I needed to do it."
"I needed you while I lay in the hospital bed in plaster, yet you were probably parading around Spain or something."
"Moriarty's network-"
"Moriarty, Moriarty, Moriarty. Everything's about that nutcase with you. You aren't a Sociopath Sherlock, you're a man who's-"
"Is everything alright, Lanie?"
Sherlock's and I's attention to my neighbor. "I'm good Logan, just stay on stand by just in case he's a nutter," Logan salutes me before he disappeared into the apartment building.
"Was that your boyfriend?"
"What's it to you?"
"Well if you're going to come back to London-"
"Who said anything about London?" I folded my arms across my chest while I scowled up at the man.
"I need someone to help me tell the others I'm alive."
"Do it yourself."
"Elaine, I. . ." I raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue. "I need a friend to. . ."
"If I remember correctly, you only have one friend, who is John Watson."
"It was a slip of the tongue-"
"I have brownies in the oven, can you finish and leave already?" He didn't reply. "Fine, you know what. I'm done with you Holmes'."
"What'd my brother do?'
"Get me lost in the catacombs with several assassins," I say happily, smiling at the memory. "I love assassins, always get the blood roaring."
"Elaine, I need my friend."
I bit the inside of my cheek, looking at him. "Fine. Fucking hell Sherlock. I don't know how you can convince me to do anything. Come on, I need to stitch up the bullet wound." I grumbled, dragging him by his scarf into the apartment building.
Shoving him down on my couch I grabbed my first aid kit, removed his coat and unbuttoned is purple shirt. "How did this happen?"
"Assassins."
"Gotta love 'em," I mumbled. "Bite down on this," I shoved an Anzac biscuit into his mouth and the tweezers dived into his wound and pulled the bullet out in an swift, easy movement. Pressing a cloth against his chest I grabbed the needle and dipped it in whisky before I stitched his wound together.
"You've gotten quicker."
"Assassins one uped me for a few minutes," I shrugged, pulling the left shoulder of my white and black dress and showed him the faint scar.
"I always did wonder what you would do when I'm not around."
"You're not the sun to my solar system, Holmes," Smirking at his silence I cleaned up his wound before I stretched and was about to walk away from him before I held my hand out. "Give it."
"Give what-"
"My smokes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No-"
"I'm telling Watson!" I yelled, jumping over my coffee table and ran into my room, slamming the bedroom door shut while I leaned against it.
"No, wait! Elaine!"
"Hey John, I have something to tell you." I say loudly, staring at my nails in amusement.
"ELAINE."
"Yes dear?"
"I'll give them to you, just don't tell him yet!"
I opened the door and took the box from his hand. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."
"You weren't even on the phone-"
"What a brilliant deduction, Holmes. Maybe next time you'll be able to pick up my lie, but then again, you never do."
"You lie so often I don't notice it anymore." He grumbles.
"Or you could be losing your touch." I poked his bare chest before I turned and climbed under my bed for my suitcase. "So, what have you been up to?" I questioned, and Sherlock, without skipping a beat, jumped right into telling me what he has been doing while helping me pack for our trip back to London.
Little did I know, this was a trip no one would ever forget.
Her Outfit: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=129018534
