Human (BBC Sherlock)

A Bit Interested

"I, n-no. I'm a bit interested, actually."

Now it was John's turn to widen his eyes; no one had ever had that type of reaction to Sherlock's quite unusual experimenting methods before. He looked at the two of them, seeing that Sherlock of course wasn't exactly taken aback by her statement. He had already known that she had been a very avid biology student throughout her years in school and in addition took interest in things 'out of the norm', whatever that was, but still looked at her peculiarly while he eyed her for another brief moment. Isabelle forced back the blush creeping up on her cheeks because of this, as Sherlock abruptly shoved his hands in his pockets and turned toward John.

"Well, you two have a nice afternoon out, then." Sherlock's only response as he exited the room yet again.

* * * * * * * * * *

Isabelle lightly nudged John on the shoulder as he'd stepped forward to open the door to the small diner, allowing her to step inside first.

"Still such a gentleman," she teased. The two had taken a lighthearted walk around the city, sharing stories of their individual adventures since the last time they'd seen each other, not long before John had left for his role in Afghanistan.

John shook his head. "What did you expect, Iz? For me to turn into a complete brute without you around?"

The duo laughed as they'd sat down at a table nearest the window, the evening sunlight casting shadows on them. Isabelle searched over the menu almost greedily as she hadn't eaten a proper meal since she'd arrived in London, and was quite hungry. After they had both chosen something, a waitress quickly took their orders, seeming to pay special attention to John and smiling far more than necessary before walking away.

"Aw John, all these women fawning over you these days. Must be nice, hm?" Isabelle smirked at her embarrassed companion, who had turned to look out the window, searching for nothing in particular.

"Oh, please." John made an effort to change the subject with a question, "So, is the flat going to work out alright?"

Isabelle nodded shyly, linking her fingers together and resting her hands on the table between them. "I think so, although I'm not sure how your friend feels about me being there..."

"Don't mind Sherlock, he's like that to everyone. You'll get used to him soon enough," John reassured. He looked over to her, noticing the cheerful expression she'd held all day had dropped slightly, and reached a hand across the table to rest on top of hers.

"Isabelle, are you...alright?" John asked this quietly, not referring to just that particular moment. He thought it best just to finally come out and ask about how she had been coping since he'd last seen her. He'd been worried, but couldn't reach out to her like he'd wanted to.

Isabelle carefully looked up to meet his eyes, letting out a small sigh. She knew he'd ask eventually, and his touch comforted her enough to answer. "It's been...difficult. But yes, I'm doing much better, that's partly the reason why I've decided to start over again here in London. To get away from everything back home, now that I feel like I can handle it."

John seemed relieved to hear her reply, and smiled faintly. "I think it'll be a good change for you, being here. I've already started asking around about jobs and such for you, and I'm sure we can get you a place of your own without too much trouble."

"I appreciate it so much, really. I've missed you, John." Isabelle returned his smile, and their hands separated as the waitress returned to their table with their meals, not seeming quite as eager to flirt with John after noticing their embrace, but still daring to leave her cell number in small print at the bottom of the check after they'd finished eating. Isabelle had leaned forward to figure out why John's face had suddenly changed color, and began to laugh at the fact.

"Do you get yourself into situations like this often?" she asked, leaning back into her seat, and John let out a huff of laughter himself as he answered.

"Oh, this? This is nothing."

* * * * * * * * * *

John had warned Isabelle that Sherlock would likely be in a foul mood when they returned to the flat, and he had been correct.

"He gets irritable when he's bored," John quietly explained to her as they'd made their way up the staircase, entering the dim living room area. Sherlock sat in a chair with his legs stretched out onto the floor, holding a book in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The scent of the smoke wasn't exactly appealing to Isabelle, although she had done a share of the habit a couple years ago, but she resisted her mind's urge to give any sort of visual response as she slipped her feet out of her black flats. They still weren't entirely broken in, and had been killing her feet for the last few hours that she'd been out.

John was the first in the room to speak. "Honestly, Sherlock. Is there a need for you to--"

"Reading." Sherlock stated harshly, not removing his eyes from his book. John saw that there was no point in speaking to him in his current state, so he bid a good-night to Isabelle, lightly kissing her cheek in a friendly manner and heading toward his own room.

After he'd gone, Isabelle stepped over to the coffee table, picking up the job listings that John had removed from the paper for her earlier in the day. She then hesitated, not knowing whether she should remain in the living room or head toward her--rather, Sherlock's room. Not only did she conclude the idea that Sherlock appreciated solitude, but she also wasn't entirely comfortable sitting in a room alone with a man she didn't know a thing about. John, she would trust. Anyone else...

"You're blocking the light." Sherlock interrupted her thoughts, Isabelle realizing that she was standing in front of the lamp a couple feet across the room and immediately stepping aside.

"Sorry," she whispered, taking his statement as a sign that she should choose her latter option and began to walk in the direction of the bedroom, forcing her steps to be quieter than usual as to not disturb her host further. She had taken a breath to say something to him, a 'thank you for allowing me here' or a 'goodnight' or something to the effect, but quickly lost the courage.

As she had left the room, Isabelle glanced out of the corner of her eye toward Sherlock, but quickly turned away when she saw that instead of remaining absorbed in the book in his hand, his eyes were now on her, watching her curiously as he took a long drag from the burning cigarette between his fingers.

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A/N: Hmmm ;) Sorry for the lack of action in this chapter, but expect something to come about very soon! *hint hint* As I stated before, if there is anything I need to be corrected on I would appreciate your advice. I'd love to hear your general thoughts so far as well.