[Complete]
Working as a consulting detective means that Sherlock, even though he doesn't want to, has to interact with lots of new people on every case. But the problem is, everyone is so boring and idiotic in his eyes. They're oblivious to the worl...
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Isolation
[Narrator]
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Once again, the call went to answerphone. Georgia had now been trying to reach Sherlock for three days, and so far she hadn't been able to get through to him once. She was starting to get tired of hearing his voicemail message, which was just a monotonous recording Sherlock had set of him basically telling people to bugger off unless they had something important to say, which was such a him thing to do. Even though Georgia hadn't known him long, she knew what he was like from the things she had heard about him in newspapers and interviews.
Sitting at the glass desk in her open plan high tech lab, which also had five more desks for her employees, Georgia tapped the pads of her fingers on the transparent surface, contemplating whether or not to phone the Inspector in order to ask for Sherlock's address. Surely it couldn't do any harm to just check up on him? After more contemplating and one sided debates in her head, she picked up her iPhone and scrolled through her contacts, stopping at Greg Lestrade. Georgia put the phone up to her ear and waited for it to start ringing, and as soon as it did, immediately considered putting it down. But just as she had her doubts, he answered.
"Georgia! What can I do for you?" Well, there's no turning back now, is there?
"Hey, Greg. I was just wondering if I could possibly have Sherlock Holmes' address?" She paused for a minute before hurrying to add that she wasn't a stalker. "It's just that he isn't answering his phone, and the last time I spoke to him was when I told him about the causes of death, which as I'm sure you know, were fairly horrible." Georgia held her breath, waiting for his response. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself in front of him, especially if she was to work with Scotland Yard again.
"Of course you can, but beware, he may not be the most polite if he's immersed in the case. Sometimes his work can get in the way of being sociable, and I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression of him." Georgia exhaled in relief, he doesn't think I'm a weirdo, hallelujah!
"Thank you, Greg. I have an idea of what he's like, but it takes a lot to put me off." Greg gave Georgia the address, and they hung up fairly soon after, with the latter setting off to meet the Consulting Detective. As Georgia drove to 221B Baker Street, which is where she had been informed to go, she wondered if Sherlock would be welcoming, or if he would turn her away. Getting closer to her destination, more doubt crept into her mind, surely he wouldn't want to see me? If he wasn't answering his phone, then it probably meant that he wanted to be left alone. Before she could convince herself to turn around, she shoved all of those thoughts out of her mind, and turned onto Baker Street.
For a couple of minutes, she sat inside her car, looking at the black door through her tinted window. There's no backing out now, is there? I have to go in there now I'm here. Reluctantly, she heaved herself out of the 4-by-4, locking it before ambling up to the flat. As she got right up to the door, she noticed that the golden knocker in the middle had been tilted to the right, so when she reached up to the brass, she straightened it before knocking it on the wood three times. She stuck her hands in her pockets as she waited, feeling the cold bite at her bare skin, well this weather certainly isn't something I missed while I was away.
After a couple of seconds, the door swung open, and Georgia was greeted by none other than Mitzi Faradday, famous actor and Sherlock's 'girlfriend'. Georgia couldn't get over the amount of makeup that was caked all over this woman's face, and she most certainly felt sorry for Sherlock, as she had no doubt that he had to kiss her gloss smeared lips more than once a day. "Hi, I'm here to see Sherlock? I brought over some files that he needs for his work, and I also wanted to check up on him, seen as he wasn't answering any of my calls." As Georgia said this out loud, she realised how weird that must have sounded, but didn't correct herself, especially not in front of Mitzi.
"I'm sorry, but he isn't seeing anyone right now, he's too busy. But I can take those for you and give them to him-" Mitzi reached for the files, but Georgia pulled them away from her grasp before she could grab them.
"No, I think it's better if I took them up to him myself." Deciding she wasn't going to take anymore bullshit from the ditsy dolled-up drama queen, Georgia stepped up into the flat and pushed past Mitzi, guessing that Sherlock's flat was upstairs. Lucky guess, she thought as she could see the detective through the crack in the door. As she approached the door to what looked to be the living room, Sherlock spoke up, not bothering to turn his back, assuming that whoever was there was unimportant, aka Mitzi.
"Who was it?" He asked. Georgia didn't answer, instead taking a moment to look around the room as she fully stepped into it. She found herself pleasantly surprised at the room's decor, thinking that the detective would be much more of a minimalist than a hoarder of sorts as the room portrayed him to be. "I said, who wa-" Sherlock stopped mid-sentence as he turned around. "Georgia?" Said woman quickly shifted her gaze from the mirror above the fireplace to the man sat in the middle of the room, papers, photos and post-it notes surrounding the spaces around him.
"Hi, Sherlock." There was silence for a few seconds, come on you clot, say something! Anything! "I just thought I'd come round to drop these off," she said as a hand lifted the files. "Also, you weren't answering your phone, so I just wanted to come and check on you, since I hadn't heard from you after...well, you know." Sherlock nodded, before turning his torso around to face the door, making sure that Mitzi wasn't within earshot. Sherlock could faintly hear her and Mrs Hudson talking in the flat downstairs, a part of him thankful that he wasn't bothering her, another part feeling guilty that Hudders had to endure that wrath all on her own.
"This side case, the one that I'm using Mitzi for, is exhausting. Do you know how hard it is to pretend that you're even the tiniest bit interested in someone that repulses you constantly? Because that is exactly what is happening right now. She," Sherlock gestured to the direction of the staircase, "wouldn't let me answer any of your calls because she felt that 'she had competition', and she didn't want to have to compete for my attention. Obviously I had to go along with it, but not for much longer. As soon as I get enough evidence on her brother, she is gone."
There was silence for a minute, before he spoke up again. "So in short, sorry for not answering, I was a little tied up, as you now know." Georgia chuckled lightly, the faintest of blushes appearing on Sherlock's cheeks at the sound, which he immediately tried to cover up by turning back to his work. "What did you need?"
"Oh, right, that!" Georgia finally got to hand the manilla folder over to Sherlock. As he grasped one end, he felt his fingers lightly brush over hers, making goosebumps appear on both of their skin. Sherlock was happy to know that it wasn't just him that had that reaction, but slowly pulled away, wanting to keep the contact for as long as possible, until he had to face Mitzi again.
