BBC Sherlock: A Good Neighbor

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock watched her as he rolled his eyes. Pushing himself to stand as she spoke of stereotypical thoughts that were unfortunately clouding her brain. 'Please tell me you haven't grown self conscious. That you haven't suddenly lost your mentality and now you're just as boring as everyone else because you worry about trifles that really shouldn't occupy your mind for more than a fraction of a second. Please also don't speak of things such as seeing them from all angles, because surely you have not. I can assure you that if you must ask that question then you have not seen every angle and every perspective. Don't be stereotypical darling. It's ugly." He stated as his eyes raked over her frame and shook his head lightly. She seemed to try so desperately to appear to be overly intelligent, it was beginning to get on his nerves.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

She spins around and lets out a short laugh of surprise, studying his features for any hint that he might be joking. After a short moment of hesitation, she smiles disbelievingly with a small nod. "Wow, okay... Clearly, you're an exceptional romantic. And I should have never doubted your feelings since you can confess them so freely." Her gaze shifts to the floor beside as she thinks things over, her smile fading as she inhales deeply, before her gaze shifts back to him and she gives him another nod, forcing a polite smile back onto her face. "I just remembered I have..." She drags on the word as she racks her mind for a believable excuse before deciding it didn't really matter anyway. "A thing I should be getting to. Now." She pushes past him toward the street that lead out onto Baker Street.

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock watched her for a moment as he sighed again. He seemed to be doing that around her a lot more. "I never claimed to be." He said to her as she stalked out of his flat as he shut the door behind her, loud enough for her to hear as he rolled his eyes. Was she really naive enough to believe that he would change his entire personality in the length of a single kiss? No. There was no way his entire character would change, first of all of a girl, and second of all in the period of a minute. He had never claimed to be romantic, or kind for that matter.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

As soon as her feet hit the pavement outside of 221, she felt the overwhelming urge to cry and had to focus rather hard to maintain a socially acceptable outward appearance. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions was quickly consuming and she was quite certain how to cope. Her most recently popular method of coping crosses her mind but she decides against it. Now was the time to make changes, not later. She inhales deeply and straightens her posture before flagging down a taxi. The ride from Baker Street to her new abode wasn't too long but it was long enough to give her time to collect her thoughts.


Sherlock was Sherlock. There was no debating that fact. He was arrogant and selfish and blunt. Olivia knew what she was getting herself into by giving in to the small infatuation that had developed into something more. She shouldn't have been surprised or upset when he acted that only way he knew how. He was insensitive, cold, analytical. She hadn't expected him to change of that drop of the hat. She didn't want to try to 'fix' him. He was often oblivious and cruel. But he had not left her mind since the day that had been dubbed the Reichenbach Fall and often days before. With all that she had seen and heard and experienced, she she tolerate him at best and hate him at worst. Outwardly, there were no redeeming factors for Sherlock.


Maybe her mind had conjured some fictitious version of him that was kind. Maybe it was up until now that her mind would simply eliminate all those bad features. Any way that it had occurred, her infatuation or obsession or love or whatever it may be had utterly destroyed her life. She was barely scraping by, in both financial and social aspects. A single man had done this too her. No. He hadn't done it directly. There was no real blame to put on him. It had been her own faults. And now, she had nothing but overdue rent and a drug addiction. She didn't know what to do. She wasn't certain there was anything she could do. She had chosen to get on a sinking ship and any sign of help was gone. The only thing left to do was wait and feel the water fill her lungs.

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock continued with his life, putting the books in the shed with all of Olivia's other things that she hadn't wanted to take as he wandered down the street as his mind began drifting back to the case, and away from the girl who'd just been in his flat. His mind grew occupied he was thinking that he wasn't going to get himself involved with the case, it was much too dangerous in his opinion, and really not worth the risk. Sighing to himself as he made his way back to his flat, trying to decide if he was going to accept the other case that had landed on his lap the other day. It involved a woman who had been hung, the rope suggested other than a suicide, but the tricky part about it was she had been hung underwater. He would more than likely be able to decide when the autopsy came back for the woman to see it she had been hung or drowned, or killed before and then planted there.


John arrived in the evening so that they could speak, Sherlock told John who had been over and John decided that he didn't care too much about it. Sherlock and him chatted before John had to go back home to his wife as Sherlock went to bed. The next morning Sherlock got up and decided to head over to St. Bartholomew's Hospital to pay his friend a visit as he headed over in a cabby, he thought about Olivia who was more than likely either in her apartment, her work, or the crack house. Since she had clear signs of addiction, she was more than likely to have a relapse, even if she didn't want to. It would happen. This addiction would consume her because she had been abusing for so long. Even Sherlock, who had a very strong mind needed help kicking his addiction.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

The next day, Olivia gets up early. She was determined to make a change. She was going to turn things around. She wasn't going to let one mistake shatter everything that she had. After extensive preparation for facing the outside world, she dresses in something form-fitting and isn't varying shades of grey, black, or navy blue. It was the first time in the past few years that she actually felt good about herself. Things were actually beginning to look up.


That was until a few hours into work. The clock was too loud. The hours were too long. The lights were too bright. She was too anxious and shaky. She knew what the issue was. She knew the quick fix for it. She, in fact, craved the quick fix for it. But she refused. She busied herself with work, anything and everything she could to keep her mind off it. She had never gotten more done in a single day. She had even arrived at what she had decided was the only solution for the dilemma that had become her life. And, she had determined, that first step was to email John.

Send New Email

New Email Received

John Waston

Before you delete, at least give it a read

Hello John,


I hope you're doing well. Congratulations on the wedding. I know you probably still hate me and I don't resent you for that. I'd just like to get tea some time and talk some things over. To be honest, those things have nothing to do with you so I don't know why I'm trying to convince you. If I'm going to be honest again, I'd guess that it had something to do with the fact that I don't have anyone else.


I'm sorry for bothering you.


You should actually probably just delete this.


Olivia

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

John, upon reading his email, followed her advice and deleted it. John wasn't really in the mood to speak with her, after she had done that and gone to Sherlock's funeral. She went to shame Sherlock, John was certain of it. Which was part of the reason he was so mad at her. Not that Sherlock was aware of his anger, because he hid it well from Sherlock, he didn't want Sherlock to worry about him. He also had to focus on his work and his wife, who were far more important than Olivia in the grand scheme of things. Those things being his life.


Sherlock threw himself back into his work now that he had return, and also spent a visit to spook Anderson, whom he had yet to talk to. Smiling to himself when Anderson screamed like a school girl. Before heading out he spoke to Anderson briefly, not bothering to visit anyone else. He didn't feel anyone else deserved his company at all at the moment,

 

[RealisticFantasy]

Finally, her work day was over and her mind was ready to burst from lack of stimulus. She had come to the conclusion that John had either just ignored the email or deleted it when no reply had come. As much as she would have enjoyed making amends with John, it wasn't an integral part of her new plan of action. But there was no time to dwell on it. She had to put her plan into action as soon as possible or she might change her mind. And she couldn't let herself do that.


She receives her paycheck for the week and decides to pay off her debt to her 'friends,' though she insists that they meet somewhere far away from anything that can be used to change her mind from repayment to purchase. It was killing her inside but she was determined to power through, sort some things out, and then she would get proper help. There were things to be accomplished that couldn't be completed from inside the walls of a rehab center. If this is what she had to do, she was going to do it. And things were going to get better. Even if it killed her.




Over the next few days, Olivia sells off everything except what she deemed the necessities, paying off her outstanding debt and buying a plane ticket out of London. She had decided, not long after her encounter with Sherlock, that the best course of action was to move back home, back to the United States. She couldn’t bring herself to head back over to 221B and say a proper goodbye. She was fairly certain he would only ridicule her for being emotional or dramatic or whatever he wanted to call it.


So she instead decided to write a letter. Because if Sherlock cared even the least bit, it would be unfair to leave without some form of goodbye. Sitting down on the floor of her nearly empty apartment in the early morning accompanied only by a flicking lamp, she writes her goodbye letter to Sherlock. She wasn’t certain she would ever speak with him again, let alone return to London or even Europe for that matter.


After finishing her last thought, Olivia folds up the papers that encompass her letters and place them in an envelope. She rises to her feet, kicking away the crumpled papers that contained her first, second, third, and beyond drafts. Grabbing the suitcase that contains all of her current possessions, she walks out of the apartment and flags down a taxi to take her to deliver her final words to Sherlock.

Spoiler

Dearest Sherlock,


Letters are a bit strange, aren’t they? But they feel so much more personal than a text or an email and to be honest, I can’t bear to face you right now. I’ve come to the conclusion that we shouldn’t speak for now, if ever again. In fact, I’m so committed to the idea that I’m flying back to the U.S. as soon as possible. And not coming back.


I need to go home. I need to see my friends and family. It’s been years since I’ve talked to any of them. I came to London for adventure and spontaneity and look where it got me. I’m not some young twenty-something anymore. I’m getting older and I need to start my life, my real life. So I’ll learn from my mistakes. I’ll go back and get it all together. I’ll get some help. I’ll get a real job. I’ll marry someone boring and normal like an accountant or something. I’ll have children and live out an endless routine until the day I die. Because that is far healthier for me that whatever this is. Because that’s how people are supposed to live their lives.


I don’t want you to think that I’m doing this because I don’t love you. I’m doing this because I do. I’m doing this because I love you so much that it’s tearing me apart. I’m doing this because I don’t think you and I could ever have what I want. I’m doing this because every time I look at you it makes me happy and sad and terrified and anxious and angry all at the same time. And I don’t think you feel the same. And that’s not fair to me. And it’s not fair to you for me to put you in that position.


So no, I haven’t looked at this from “every angle,” but I feel like I have. And yes, I’m insecure and stupid and foolish and rash and egotistical. Yes, I think my entire world is falling apart and sometimes my problems are more important than others’. Yes, I feel like I’ll never be able to love someone the way I feel about you and I don’t know how I feel about that. Yes, I’m going to pretend I know how you feel and make silly assumptions and generalizations. Because that’s how people are. People are irrational, illogical, and contradictory. People are the problem and the solution. People suck. And you just have to deal with it.

Olivia

​

P.S. I noticed the milk. John doesn’t drink the blue milk. I hope you feel a different color soon

Leaving the letter went easily enough seeing as she had managed to avoid running into anyone that might know her. The ride to the airport was draining. She had realized she how exhausted she actually was, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Over the past few days, she had been hoping from one task to another, trying to keep her mind off of what she so clearly craved. Resting her head against the window, she slowly drifts off into a shaky but needed sleep.


When she finally wakes, she finds herself slumped against a wall. She can't exactly make out where she is. But from the vague shadows and damp smell, she decides it must been an abandoned tunnel of some sort whether for trains or sewage or something else. She jumps to her feet, getting lightheaded and dizzy from the quick transition, patting herself down for her things. To her dismay, she finds her phone, wallet, and plane ticket all missing. "For fuck's sake! One time, could things just work out?"




Although Sherlock had dismantled Moriarty's circuit, either entirely or mostly, there were still certain circles that weren't too happy with the route that things had taken. There were also those that just didn't like Sherlock or didn't believe he was actually as intelligent as he made the world think. And then there were a few that were just plain bored. And with Sherlock's transition back into the world, the people that fell into these categories began to resurface.


Olivia's kidnapper fit into all of these categories. They actually had more of a love/hate relationship with Sherlock. Sometimes they hated him and sometimes they loved him. All from afar, of course. They were never one to get their hands dirty. But they had decided that it was high time Sherlock noticed them and appreciated them. It was time to play a game and they had decided that Olivia was the perfect bargaining chip.


Rolling Olivia's phone in a gloved hand, a smirk spreads across the kidnapper's face. They remove their glove to unlock her phone and scroll through her contacts. As the kidnapper's gaze falls on the name of interest, their smirk widens. It was finally time to be noticed.

Sherlock

me

Wakey wakey eggs and bakey

me

What are you up to, Mr. Holmes?

me

Well, if you're not going to answer...

me

Come on Sleeping Beauty

me

Hello?

me

We should meet up some time soon (<3)

me

We have a lot to discuss

The kidnapper was getting increasingly frustrated at the lack of response. These two were supposed to be in a relationship. He should have jumped the second 'Olivia' texted, right? The kidnapper lets out a groan, staring down at the phone. Seven texts in three minutes would have meant some form of urgency to anyone else. Apparently, not to Sherlock Holmes.

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock sat. Staring blankly out the window of his flat as he started off into space. Just thinking. The letter was on the table, opened as he sat there. Just thinking about he and him and her books and his death and her phone call and her eyes. Her damn brown orbs that he was never going to see again. Dammit Olivia. Why was she leaving? She shouldn't be leaving. She didn't need to. Yet. She was. He was angry with her, he didn't know why. Maybe it was because she was leaving before he even had time to develop any feelings for her. Well, tell her that he had developed feelings for her. He sighed to himself as he stood in the window. Playing music for a while on his violin. Surely she was gone by then, he didn't assume for her to stick around. Why should she? She had no reason so.


After a few hours of playing, he finally heard his phone buzzing. Reading over the text messages as he sighed to himself, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat down before responding with a simple. 'You're in the U.S., don't play games with me." He stated as he sighed to himself. It wasn't fair for her to do this to him after she just abandoned him recklessly.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

The kidnapper reads over his words with fervor. The Sherlock Holmes had responded. Their own response was nearly instant. They had decided they would string him along for a bit longer but then it would be time for the big reveal. It would also give the last few pieces of the plan time to fall into place.


'I thought you liked games'


And then, 'Besides, do you know how much it costs to send a text across an ocean?'


'Needless to say, I'm not in the States.'




The sound of running water was distant but not too far off. That was all Olivia had to go on given her circumstances. She blinks rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the dimness of her surroundings. Hopping off the concrete platform she had found herself on, she lands into ankle high water. The water was absolutely freezing and by no means comfortable. It was flowing far too slow and was far too close to be the source of the sound. She bends down, dipping her fingers into the stream, which sends a chill up her spine. After a few moments, she decides to head in the direction the water was coming from. It had to be coming from somewhere after all and Olivia was hoping the source would be her exit.

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock read over the messages a few times. Shaking his head as he locked his phone. Tossing it away as he sat in his typical position. Why would Olivia do this to him? He was already distressed about the fact that she had left for the States without so much as a hug. Needless to say he was a bit on the peeved side. Not to mention if this really wasn't Olivia what were the motives? Another estranged man who had a sick obsession with him. Sighing softly as he turned in to his bedroom. Deciding to ignore this person until the next morning, perhaps get Lestrade to trace the messages.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

The kidnapper stares at the phone in anticipation. This was the day that they had been waiting for for a long, long time. But as one minutes becomes ten minutes with the distinct ping of a new message, their demeanor begins to transition. They said a quick text to their associates to inform them to get everything in place. It was just about show time. The kidnapper waits another minute or so just to make sure they weren't jumping the gun. Now that the time had totaled around twelve minutes - which was far too long to wait - they decide to send Sherlock another series of messages.


'So, let's just say I happened upon a suitcase today that contained this phone...'


'You would think that someone leaving the country might need their things'


'Hmm, what a dilemma'


'I'm sure it's nothing'


'Let's have drinks and we can discuss the implications'

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock awoke the next morning. Taking time to pull himself from his bed, showering slowly. He felt groggy and needed a cup of tea before he'd be doing anything else. Smiling to himself as he looked out the window before finally remembering his phone. He grabbed it, pressing the home button before realizing it was dead when he moved to charge it. After a good twenty minutes of fooling around he finally got to his phone. Reading through the messages as he slowly raised an eye brow at the inanimate object. Finally, after what seemed like ages of starring at the small piece of technology, he responded with a simple, 'I don't drink.'

 

[RealisticFantasy]

The kidnapper was impatient to say the least. Being forced to wait a day for his response didn't play into their plans well. In their spare time of waiting for his response, they had been reduced to pacing and rescheduling. This silly game was intended to be a one day ordeal and then they could get to the important part - Sherlock and them. The response brought back a surge of the thrill and excitement that had surrounded the situation followed by a through disappointment due to the content of the message. The response was again immediate.


'I do not like being kept waiting, Mr. Holmes'


'Dinner then?'

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock read over the message as he rolled his eyes and sighed softly. 'Depends. Why should I agree to dinner with you? Aside from the kidnapping part, what makes you interesting?' He sent as he pushed his phone into his pocket. Walking down to the department as he spoke to Lestrade, waiting for a response. This person seemed rather intent on getting a response or rise out of Sherlock, though it was unlikely to happen.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

The kidnapper drums their fingers on the mahogany desk that sat in front of them, reading over the message with a frown. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was all wrong. There was a small moment of panic before the kidnapper convinced themselves that Sherlock was just playing a game. He loved games after all and this was just him saying that he was in.


'You're asking all the wrong questions, Mr. Holmes'


'We'll meet soon enough either way'

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock read over the message with a smirk as he rolled his eyes. Growing distracted by his current case, he didn't respond until the evening when he was back inside his own flat. 'I really hope you aren't advising me what sort of questions I should be asking.' He sent back before starting to make his own tea. Sighing to himself as he opened a book, sitting at his table as he read for an hour before getting up to see what this stranger wanted.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

Waiting, waiting, waiting. He sure loved to play a game of waiting. But this was fun. Because the kidnapper hated Olivia. Olivia was living their life, being the pinnacle of Sherlock's attention. It made them sick. The kidnapper was certain that Olivia had brainwashed Sherlock. There was no way he would ever love an ordinary girl like her without some form of incentive. Clearly, he wasn't that concerned about her. It had been nearly two days and he hadn't mentioned her at all. The kidnapper was so tempted to tell him the great thing they were doing, how they were slowly getting rid of the one blemish in his life. But, instead they go with 'I suppose you know best.'




Olivia didn't know how long it had been. She just knew that it had been long. Her eyes hadn't magically transformed to have night vision but she could make out the details of her surroundings far better now so she had come to the conclusion that this was an abandoned stretch of tunnel for a subway system. A small one given that the platform she had found herself on was the length of about a block. The entire thing was a U-shape and maybe a mile in either direction of the platform. She knew because she had walked the entire thing, looking for some form of exit and wading through icy water that was now at her knees. As far as she could tell, there was no way out of the tunnel. And if there was, it was camouflaged far too well for her to find it in the cover of darkness.


Hunger and thirst were beginning to become an issue. Her throat was sore and dry from shouting and her muscles ached from pacing back and forth through the stretch of tunnel. She had tried to form a sort of base at the platform but there were no provisions to accompany it. Her base was really just the platform itself. She was running on a minimal amount of sleep, considering she found it hard to sleep comfortably on concrete in a situation like this. The only sleep she had gotten was unintentional and forced upon her by her body. When she was a child, people would always tell her to stay put if she were to get lost. So they had become her philosophy for the time being.

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock read over the messages between him and whoever was on the other side of Olivia's phone. Rubbing his fingers together as he struggled to make a plan before shaking his head. Best to just go with it for now. 'You mentioned dinner?' He sent as he leaned back in the seat. With such quick responses he expected nothing less as he stood up. Going into his room and pulling on a jacket as he searched for his wallet as he headed towards the door. Pulling it open as he began pondering what was going on with poor Olivia. Where was she and was she even still alive?

 

[RealisticFantasy]

Had our kidnapper taken a step back and examined the situation, they might have found they going to dinner with Sherlock right at this very moment was not the best idea. But this is what they were waiting for. The kidnapper got to their feet quickly, reading over the message a few times before responding. Things were beginning to go ac coring to plan again and the kidnapper couldn't have been happier.


'Did you have something in mind?'

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

'I was expecting you to be more organized. Seeing as you suggested it. Meet me at Wang's in ten minutes. Don't be late.' He responded as he headed towards the pub with a slight smile. Either he was going to get abducted or he was going to meet the kidnapper. Either way it seemed like a good idea to him, so he got a table for two as he sat, staring at the booth across from his own seat as he waited.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

Reading the text, the kidnapper was out the door in less than a minute. They weren't exactly dressed to impress but the ten minute time limit was far too restricting to complete a proper makeover. The right was short enough and the kidnapper arrived in a few seconds short of ten minutes. They walk into Wang's, surveying the crowd for their date. Because this was entirely and completely a date. The kidnapper approaches his table with a polite nod and a "Mr. Holmes."

Spoiler

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock's eyes raised and dragged over the kidnapper as his lips quirked into a small smile. His eyes not showing anything less than charm as he pushed himself to stand taking her hand and helping her sit before taking a seat across from them as he raised an eye brow at them. His hands folding in front of himself as he crossed his legs and analyzed her quickly. It was an easy task to complete as he met her eyes with a charming smile. ''I'm afraid you haven't given me a name to call you by."

 

[RealisticFantasy]

There was a moment of silence where she looks confused, tilting her head ever so slightly. She scans his features before cracking a smile and letting out a small laugh. "Oh, you! Always joking, always playing games. You almost had me. I know. It's been a while, hasn't it?" She shakes her head, chuckling under her breath and she examines the menu. Being far too consumed in decing what she felt like eating, she didn't notice his reaction to her response.

 

[Kellie Jemmings]

Sherlock stared at her, growing ever more confused as he took a deep breath annoyed and leaned back. "I don't know who you are. Tell me your name." He said as he glanced at the waiter when he approached, flicking his hand to tell him not to come just yet. Sherlock already had all the information he needed about this woman, but now it really was down to what she wanted from him.