Sherlock's POV
"So John doesn't live here anymore?" she asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, stirring a mug of coffee.
"Correct" I grunted.
She passed the coffee to me, saying "And he's got a girlfriend?"
"Fiancée. Mary Elizabeth Morstan. They're getting married" I added, although the last part was obvious.
Evanna wrinkled her nose, whilst simultaneously raising her eyebrows, and gave a quiet snort of disgust before she said "Eww"
"I know" I agreed, before taking a sip of the bitter coffee.
Just then, and thankfully breaking the lull in conversation, Mrs Hudson entered the room. Placing her hands on her apron-clad hips, she sighed and shook her head whilst -as per usual- giving no explanation for her actions. Then, she stepped towards Evanna and, squeezing her cheeks, cooed "Oh Evanna, I'm so glad you're back!"
With a glance to me, she said "I know he's glad too, even if he won't show it. Plus, I'm surprised you reacted so well to the news that he's not... you know..."
She turned her back to us to stack a few plates in the cabinet, giving Evanna an opportunity to give me a questioning look.
I whispered back "I may have... changed the story. I thought you'd appreciate that better"
Before she could say anything in reply, Mrs Hudson had turned back round and said to Evanna in a hushed voice "By the way, that bikini you bought me as a souvenir is a bit much for my age dear"
"I've been on YouTube Mrs Hudson" smiled Evanna, carrying on with "I thought it'd bring a bit of... hmm... nostalgia" and pointing her index finger at her in the triumph that resulted with finding the right word.
Lost for words, Mrs Hudson stuttered out of the flat. The door she opened gave way for John to walk in, closely followed by Mary.
"Evanna!" he cried, barging straight past me and towards the direction of my niece.
Mary stood politely at the edge of the kitchen-living room divide and, removing her gloves and grey scarf, nodded a greeting to me, which I returned.
Evanna's POV
I wasn't quite sure what John was doing. First he opened his arms as if inviting me in for a hug, then dropped them again only to raise his left arm once more to move it towards my shoulder. Deciding this wasn't the best idea either, he kept making spasmodic arm movements; until I became fed up and briskly stuck out my right hand, earning a snigger from the blond woman with whom he had arrived with.
After he had shaken my hand, red with embarrassment and clearing his throat, I turned my attention to that certain woman.
"Mary Morstan?" I asked, standing before her.
After smiling wide, but with her mouth closed, she said "Yes. I'm sorry your party fell to shambles, Sherlock's normally good at planning things"
Remembering what my uncle had told me, I realised "Oh yes! I hear he's helping to plan the wedding" I turned to John and said, albeit forcefully, "Congratulations by the way"
He stepped over and placed an arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "Thanks Evanna, really" he nodded. "But there'll be more about that later. First!" he exclaimed. "We've got lots of catching up to do"
We all followed Sherlock as he guided us to the living room. He grabbed his violin and claimed his chair, John his, and Mary and I took a seat on either side of the client's sofa.
"So," I started slowly. "What would you like to know?"
"I imagine the usual" muttered Sherlock, plucking at his instrument's strings quickly and quietly, as if the action was as natural for him as a reflex. "Where? What? How? When? Why?"
With each word, he had played a staccato note, the last question earning a violent F#.
John glared tiredly at Sherlock, who had now placed his violin on his lap and was looking with mock interest at me.
"South America" I started, not breaking eye contact with my uncle. "General travelling. Any type of vehicle I could find. Past three years -call it an extended gap year. And why? To distract myself from my fragile emotional state after my uncle supposedly died" I ended bluntly, my eyes still glued to Sherlock's.
His eyes darting between us as we continued our staring match, John hesitantly said "Right... That's erm... Very interesting... Evanna? You look different"
"Yes!" Mary chimed in. "From the pictures I've seen anyway"
She pointed to the ripped-up banner that still lay on the floor.
I tore my eyes away from Sherlock, who mistakenly took the action as a sign of surrender and smiled, and instead towards Mary.
"I suppose I do" I mumbled.
My once waist-length hair was now cut into a short, disheveled, black bob. I had lost weight -the chain of my Mum's necklace that I still wore lay on top of visible collarbones. But I was strong: trekking in the Amazon had given me muscle, although my frame was still delicate.
"You're not just different physically though, are you Evanna?" Sherlock proclaimed. When I raised my eyebrows in questioning he continued. "I see you looking round, making mental notes. Especially about Mary -after all she is the newcomer, if you will. All in all, you are observing"
He was right: and especially about Mary. She seemed like an enigma -the perfect specimen for deduction. Plus, there was something about her, characteristics and mannerisms that reminded me of my own mother.
"So," John began. "You're like him now? I mean you kind of were before but now you're ahh... more so?"
I didn't answer him, so my uncle found time to ask "What do you call it?"
"Brain attic"
"Wait hold on, brain attic" Mary questioned.
I stood up, frustrated at their incompetence at understanding.
"Yes, brain attic. Like his" I pointed at Sherlock "mind palace but smaller, more humble. A bit less lavish"
John sniggered, making Sherlock's head turn quickly his way with eyebrows furrowed.
"Sorry" John cleared his throat, but evidently still amused. "It just goes to show doesn't it?"
"What exactly?" snapped Sherlock.
John simply shook his head, whispering "Nothing" a smile growing on his lips nonetheless.
"That's enough about me!' I suddenly cried, flopping back down and slapping my hands on my thighs, which caused John, but not Mary to become startled. "Tell me how things are getting on with you"
"Well, aside from this dickhead's attempt at telling me he's not dead and a few crazy cases, it's been pretty peaceful" John answered.
"Well..." Mary disagreed, making a face.
"Well no actually, not at the surgery, no" he corrected himself. "It's been hell -so busy! All these people coming in with this new bug I think. I wouldn't be surprised if Mary had to resort to murder to get us the day off!"
This made us all laugh, all except Sherlock who had stood up and was now glaring out of the window.
As the laughter settled down I heard voices downstairs, and then heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs.
"Three... two... one..." mumbled my uncle.
The door burst open and a silver-haired man of strong build exclaimed "Sherlock! We've got a..."
His news seemed to lose all importance when his eyes locked onto me.
"Bloody hell" he said. "You're her aren't you? From the papers!"
My shocked face looked at Sherlock for aid, but he just stood there, watching this scene unfold before him.
"No wonder you're related" the man continued, pointing between Sherlock and I. "You're like his double!"
"I don't look anything like him!" I protested.
Sherlock finally decided to speak, and said "Hmm, she looks more like her father"
I shot him an angry glare.
***
Let's play "Spot the original Sherlock Holmes books reference" so comment if you found it and I will dedicate this chapter to you.
I know this chapter was super boring and all but it was needed, and I promise the next will be more exciting as we are introduced to the mystery ooohhhh.
I've realised I never ask how you guys are in these author's notes so
Hey guys how are you?