Jump Then Fall

Chapter 13

Elsa stepped through the doorway to Sherlock's flat just as he gave an uppercut to a strange man's face, who fell back into a chair unconscious. Sherlock then looked into a mirror, saw Elsa's gaping reflection, and fixed his suit. He then turned to the strange man and glared at him.

"Well don't just stand in the doorway,"

"Right, all right, sorry" she stuttered back. "I-I just heard quite a bit of noise coming from up here, and I thought I would-"

"Yes, yes, of course. Well, it's done now, and now you know what was going on, you may leave."

"I, umm... I, umm..." instead of turning around, she walked forward until she was standing beside him. He craned his neck, not surprised to see her there. Elsa cautiously lifted her hand to wipe some dust off of Sherlock's jacket. "That was, umm... cool...?"

"Indeed." He liked the feel of her constant fingertips brushing against his shoulder, but something was tugging at the back of his head. "Wait, umm... aren't you out with John?"

She stopped, "Oh, it wasn't really working. We decided it would be better for the both of us if we just stayed friends."

Sherlock turned his whole body so he was facing Elsa. "Tell me,"

She was a bit taken aback at Sherlock's sudden interest with her and John's relationship. "Well, umm... we aren't exactly for each other, I suppose. He kinda just wanted different things than me," she ducked her head and blushed.

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing else." It wasn't like Elsa could tell Sherlock the real reason, that she would rather be with him than with John.

He looked at her skeptically, but brushed his doubts away as he heard the man grumble something.

"Pardon me," Sherlock said. Elsa nodded, stepped back and widened her eyes as she saw Sherlock throw another punch at the man. "I'll just, umm... get rid of him." He dragged the man's body out of the flat and down the stairs.

"I suppose I'll just wait," Elsa said to herself, sitting down opposite of Sherlock's chair, waiting for him to return.

~

Sherlock returned to his flat to see Elsa browsing his book collection. She reached up to grab one and he cleared his throat, calling for her attention. Elsa quickly turned around and have a false non-guilty smile.

"I didn't know you liked to read," he stated.

"Like to read? Reading is my life," she grabbed the book she was reaching for. "Charles Dickens. He's one of my favorite classic writers. When I was younger, I tried to buy any copy I could get my hands on. 'The Mystery of Edwin Drood'. My mum never bought me this story for some reason, she thought I had too many books I suppose..." Elsa laughed. "That was the only way Mother would show her care for me, by buying me all those books," she turned to put the book back in it's place on the shelf. Sherlock grabbed her hand before she could.

"Keep it," he said softly, "I never have time to read anyways."

"You don't mean that,"

"I really do. If it's the one book of his collection that you don't own, what am I to do to keep you from having it? Think of it as a welcome present..."

"Oh, really!?" He nodded, "Thank you!" She dropped the book and hugged him. Sherlock was surprised at Elsa's close gesture, he was not one for physical contact, but he liked having Elsa's arms wrapped around his chest with her cheek pressed up to where his heart was.

Realizing her move, Elsa dropped her arms and stepped back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have,"

"It's, umm, it's fine."

She smiled. "Ok," she went to sit down. "So, if you don't have time to read, why do you have so many books?"

Sherlock gave her a crooked grin, "You just have to know everything, don't you?" she nodded. "Well, for starters, it's good decoration. And I need something to stare at while I think..."

"Do you spend every second of your life thinking?"

"No, just most of it. There are times when you just have to react, there's no time to think."

"Oh, yes, I've read about those moments!"

"I'm not surprised."

"What makes you say that?"

"Have you ever really been in the outside world?" Elsa shook her head. "Have you ever had to fend for yourself?" Another head shake. "What about working a job?"

"None of those, but I've read them in books..."

"You are using books as a way to not deal with life. Get your head out of the literature and go live."

"I'm perfectly aware of that! I don't want to go out, and have to do people things, and work. Why can't I just be by myself and live the lives of characters? Is there something wrong with wanting that?"

"Yes, it's not a life."

"And yours is? Spending your time getting high and solving murders? We all have a way of coping, you know,"

Sherlock sighed and sat down, giving up in the argument.

"I'm not going to keep arguing with you, even if I am correct. You're not going to care, are you?"

"Not at all, Sherlock Holmes, not at all. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna start this book. You're welcome to join me, but I don't like sharing, you'll need your own copy."

"Fine, I'll read something else, then."

He randomly grabbed a book and flipped to the first page.