Welcome to Baker Street (Sherlock/OC fanfiction)

17. Bored

Emilia

Get ready to start with a bang. Xx.

I stared at the words on my phone screen for hours. Another text from the unknown person. It had been over a month and a half since the last message- nearly two months. Whoever this was had been watching, waiting for an opportunity. Sherlock and John would want to know about this, but I wasn't sure what to do about it myself. Who was this nystery person? What did they want with me?

I wouldnt know what to call this feeling I had. It was nauseating, which I depised after being sick just a week and a half previous.  Maybe it was fear? Yes, fear. That was the safest choice of vocabulary. And because my fear was growing the longer I stared at the phone screen, it took everything inside of my being to not go into a full panic attack.

Everyday, my fear grew a little bit stronger. Especially when I was the only person at home to fend for myself. Sherlock hadn't come home yet. He had been gone in Russia for a possible murder case for three days by then. John was off in look for work. It was his turn, apparently, and was trying to work things out with Sarah on top of it.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I tossed down my phone to the table and raked a hand through my hair. Shaking my head, I took a seat into John's armchair and leaned back. What was I going to do?

"No case!" Sherlock shouted, jolting me from my comfort as he trotted in through the door. And so the detective had returned at last.

My brow arched as he hung his coat and scarf hastily. "How dull." I smiled in amusement. Sherlock hummed in agreement and rushed by me to the hall. I rolled my eyes. So much for a hello, then. I heard his bedroom door open, then shut. My stomach let out a deep grumble and I lifted myself to my feet, trailing to the kitchen to get something to eat. Smagging a bag of crisps from the counter, three timid knocks came from the front door and I knew Sherlock wasn't about to answer it. I sighed and found my way to the door, swinging it open to see Molly Hooper's smiling face.

But her smile quickly faded upon seeing me. "Oh... I, uh... Sherlock was supposed to-" she fell over her words.

I offered a friendly smile. "He is in one of his moods. Is there anything you need?"

Molly cleared her throat and glanced down. My eyes followed her gaze, taking notice for the first time the black, canvas bag dangling from her hand. "Sherlock asked me to drop this by when I got off work." she stated. "Mind if I bring it in?"

"Nope." I grinned curtly, stepping out of her way as she entered the flat. I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep from chuckling at her. She must have rushed from the morgue to the flat. She was even still wearing her lab coat, her hair pulled into a tight pony. She just couldn't waste time waiting for an opportunity to see Sherlock. "What is in there?" I asked her, pointing to the bag.

"Uh... It's a bit tricky to explain." she mumbled. I raised my brows at her and glanced between the bag and her face. What in hell could have been inside of that thing?

A door down the hall opened loudly followed by a baritone, "Ah, Molly! Great timing. Have you brought me the head?" the curly haired detective strolled into view in nothing but sweats, a t-shirt, and a silky, blue bathrobe.

Molly and I both stared up at Sherlock with wide eyes, but for two different reasons. Hers was full of lust and adoration, whilst mine was just me processing what he had just said. Have you brought the head? "The what?" I scoffed.

"It's for an experiment." Sherlock stated as he took the bag from Molly. I scoffed again.

"You know what? I've lost my appetite. I'll be in my room." I shook my head, walking away in disgust. Sure I was a nurse, but never had I worked with a patient who had their head detached from their body. No crisps were eaten after that.