Not So Alone

impatient

My legs are outstretched in front of me, my elbows resting on the arm of the large, cushion chair. Somewhere from the building a clock chimes 12 O' clock in the afternoon.
I've been waiting in complete silence for almost an hour now. Sun pours in from the window near by, and with every moment that goes by, I get more and more impatient.
I begin fiddling with a button on my grey jacket, doing my best to keep from yelling out in frustration, and bordem.
I look down at my outfit, I can't help but think I made an adequate choice with the white blouse, loose, black trousers, large, grey coat, and black heeled boots.

Finally, I let out a loud groan, and pull out my phone. "Where the hell is he!" I exclaim, checking my messages. I have no messages, or calls, so I stand up, and begin to look around the nicely sized lounge.
I wander over to the laptop, and open it. The front screen says John Watson.
I quickly look around the desk area, picking up different papers.
Finally, I find a paper with a date on it from a few years ago, and i type it into the password bar.
The computer accepts this date as a correct password, and i smirk.
I pull out a chair, and sit down. I open a browser, and type the name 'Sherlock Holmes' into the search bar.
A web site pops up, The science of deduction.
I raise my eyebrows, and click on the link.
It brings me to a webpage. On the home screen it says:
I'm Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective.

I'm not going to go into detail about how I do what I do because chances are you wouldn't understand.

I scoff loudly as I read this. "Cheeky, ain't he?" I mutter, continuing to read.

If you've got a problem that you want me to solve, then contact me. Interesting cases only please.

This is what I do:

1. I observe everything.2. From what I observe,-

"I know what science or deduction is." I mutter.
I look around the page some more, and realize there are a few of his cases. I click one called 'The green ladder'
It's filed under solved, but I begin to read it.
A PC Jane Downing has come to ask for my help. Her husband died. Everyone thinks it's a tragic accident. She's convinced his brother did it. Brother has a cast iron alibi. I love cast iron alibis so I'm taking on the case.

Background: End of last year, Sir Harry Downing died. Left the house to-.

Suddenly, I hear a door slam, and yelling voices. I look towards the open door of th flat, and i can see figures just down the stairs.
"I dont want, nor do I need, a partner Lestrade!" I hear a loud voice. "I don't care if you want or need one! She is the best of the best,
and-!"
"No. I am the best of the best! I do not need a petty ameture working with me! I can do it just fine!" The voice, which I presume to be Sherlock, replies.
"Sherlock, oh. Sherlock." Come the semi-soft, posh voice of Mrs Hudson.
"Not now." Sherlock snaps at her. "Sherlock, listen to me!" Lestrade yells. I hear a loud groan, and footsteps coming up the stairs. I close John's laptop, and stand up, facing the door. I stick my hands in my pickets, and look directly at Sherlock, and i know he sees me as well. Once he enters the flat, he walks directly over to his chair, and slouches down into it. He ignores me, so I just face him, and look at him.
He sits, staring directly ahead, legs out stretched, and arms resting on his chair. "Enjoy my website?" He asks, after a moment. "Not really." I respond. "I know most of what you said already, though." I move over to the chair that sits opposite him, and take a seat. "Really?" Sherlock asks, not seeming to care at all. "Yes. What you call science of deduction, I call my life." I say. He raises his eyebrows. "How so?" He asks, his voice still carrying the same, drab tone. "Well, Sherlock, I've spent my life, from the point of age twelve, staring around at things, observing, and deducing.
I only observed. In fact, it's almost like my brain is wired that way.
I've found out more about you since I've been here in the hour, than you know about yourself." I reply.
"Oh? And what have you found?" He asks me.
"You want to know?" I ask. He nods. "Yes. Humor me." He responds.
I smirk at him. "I can deduce you current state of living from your laptop over there. It belongs to John Watson, and that's not you, but rather your partner. Now, he isn't here anymore. He's got a wife. I'm going to go with Mary from the looks of that wedding invitation you've got over on the desk. Mr Watson's moved out.
He's given you his laptop, because, maybe he's gotten a new one. You haven't changed the password on it, and it still reads 'John Watson' on the start-up screen.
Now, I can't conclude two things from that. You are either too lazy to change the name, and password. But that doesn't make sense. Your Sherlock Holmes. You know that, you're prideful. You have a hard time sharing anything. You would change those details immediately. Yet, you haven't." I say.
"And why haven't I changed them?" Sherlock asks. "Because, they are a small bit of John. And you, Mr Holmes, still miss your old flat mate." I finish. He stares at me. "Told you she was good." Comes Lestrade's voice. After a moment, I break eye contact with Sherlock, and look at Lestrade. "Greg." I say, giving a quick smile. "Aideen." He says. I look at Sherlock again. "Am a wrong?" I ask him. He is still looking at me. "I don't need a partner, Lestrade." Sherlock says. "You do. And its got to be her, or you're off this case, Sherlock." He replies. "Thats it." Then, Lestrade turns, and walks for the door. "Thanks for coming Aideen." He says, then leaves. "You're wrong." Sherlock says. I raise my eyebrows. "How so?" I ask. "The password is mine."
"January 29th 2010?" I ask. Sherlock nods. "What day is that?" I ask.
He is silent for a moment.
Then he opens his mouth. "What cased have you worked?" He asks, clearly not going to answer my question.
"I worked the murder of reality TV show host, Betty March, a few years ago. Um, I took down a serial killer in Glasgow last month. Oh, and there was an assassination attempt going on in Buckingham Palace, which I stopped." I tell him. "I didn't hear about that." Sherlock says to me. "It wasn't a case open to the public." I reply. He looks almost appalled as I say this. "Though, I did hear about your little thing with Moriarty." I say.
"Did you?" He asks. I nod. "Yes. He was something else." I say, shaking my head, gently. "You've met him?" Sherlock ask, looking slightly intrigued. "Twice. He has run more than just the few crimes you've solved. He knows someone clever when he sees them. He likes to play games with them. He likes having someone figure out his riddles. He like to be matched in mind set." I say. "Thats true." Sherlock replies. "What has he done to you?"
"He put my mother in unthinkable danger a while ago. Just for a game.  He thought it was funny. He enjoyed it." I say. "Then, maybe a six months before he died, he decided that he was going to hire someone to kidnap about fifteen children from a small down near where I live, in Dublin. None of the kids were killed...but a mother was." I say. Sherlock nods. "This doesn't effect you?" He asks, after a moment. "What? Moriarty?" I say. "No. The death of people around you. Brutal murders. The demise of your loved ones." Sherlock says. "Surely it takes a toll on you. And it would be most horrible if one of them had something happen to them, so maybe this isn't the life for you." Sherlock says, not a note of care in his voice.
I can't help but let out a laugh. "This is my life. I've been solving murders since I was sixteen. I took them to the police, solved, wether they wanted it or not. I've gotten one case wrong in my life, and even then, it was because of someone I was working with. Now, beleive me Mr Holmes, I find no pleasure in working with you either, but I was hired for a job, and you happened to come with it. This is my case. I am not your assistant." I tell him, harshly. He stares at me for a moment, the pulls out his phone, and begins typing. "What are you doing?" I ask him. "Telling Lestrade I'll take the case. "Sherlock replies. I nod. "Good." I say. "Yes." Sherlock mutters. "I'm Aideen Kelly, by the way." I tell him. "Sherlock." He says. "I know." I reply.