Distant Minds {{Sherlock Rp with Circledude5}}

[Circledude5]

Sherlock ignored her comment, though he registered it. Why would she apply to the police force? Of course, there were dozens of reasons why she in particular may have made that choice. But which it was...he still didn't have enough data.


"You're applying to the police force. Why?"

 

[Shadow Cat]

"Because an assistant detective position just opened up. Nothing quite compares to unraveling the puzzles that others have compiled." Ciera said with out batting an eyelash.


It was the same reason she had always had.

 

[Circledude5]

"You've had experience before," Sherlock told her. He knew that she knew that. Of course she did. How many other jobs had she had before this one?


"Though I will warn you," Sherlock said, "They tend to be quite incompetent."


[sorry it's short; been a bit busy and I'm actually walking right now so]

 

[Shadow Cat]

"Aren't they all?" Ciera smiled, referring to his comment about the agency's incompetence. "I take it you've worked with them before." she said.


Sherlock clearly had worked with them before, otherwise he wouldn't have had such a strong opinion of the department. She had never expected John's flatmate to be so interesting.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock shrugged. "Once or twice. Homicide department's come up to me with something interesting a few times."


He picked up his violin again, setting it into place and clamping his chin down to hold it in place. "Which detective are you looking at assisting?" He didn't want to connect himself to the Met quite yet because it risked an attempt for her to create a connection before she'd even gotten a job through it. He picked up his bow too and held it ready above the strings, waiting for a response.

 

[Shadow Cat]

((Sorry abpit the short posts. I'm on my phone because my computer charger shorted out))


"I believe his name was Anderson." Ciera replied as she leaned back in she seat. "It's the only position that's open, I understand." She explained with another glance around the flat.


Judging by the look on his face, he evidently knew Anderson. The look on his face was very amusing, though. He evidently knew Anderson very well.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock dismissed the fact that she was to be working alongside Anderson of all people, and continued his interrogation. But first, there was something he needed to make clear.


"Ah, you're forensic scientist. Well, Philip Anderson is not a Detective Inspector. He's a idiot working in forensics, and he couldn''t tell a suicide from a homicide - even if the victim was Wasim Akram with the gun in his right hand." Sherlock informed her scathingly. "For one who thinks New Scotland Yard a bunch of imbeciles, you should know that the very man you're looking into working with is possibly the biggest of them all."

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera smiled amusedly at the insult to Anderson. "Well, it happened to be the only position open. Or the only one that I specialize in that was open. And I was under the impression that you wouldn't particularly enjoy my presence. Or so John informed me. And he knows you better than anyone from what I hear. Apparently not many people can tolerate you. Couldn't imagine why."


Ciera finished the sentence with a small grin as she watched him play the violin with delicate hands.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock didn't reply, but kept his gaze on her. Half his mind was on what he was going to say next, the other on his improvisational tune.


"The spare room's upstairs to the right. John's is on the left." he told her. "And no, I don't particularly enjoy your presence. I find you rather boring, Ciera, no matter what interest I seem to have in you. I know how to profile people, and I've only been wrong once." With that, he put his violin down on the side table, stood up, and stalked over to the other side of the room.


"And mind you don't make too much of a mess for Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said over his shoulder. He threw himself onto the sofa, and took out his phone.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera raised an eyebrow as her clear blue gaze followed him across the room.


"Don't worry. I don't flatter myself with pleasantries. It makes no difference to me whether you enjoy my presence or find me interesting. There are much more important things than human relations." She finished, reaching down into the pocket of her suitcase and pulling out a book. The title had been imprinted on the book, but had long since worn away. The pages were frayed and yellowing with age. She opened it and began reading, her concentration taken up by the contents of the pages.

 

[Circledude5]

After about fifteen minutes of silence, the door opened downstairs. Sherlock knew by the sound of the steps that it was John with groceries. He had put his phone away fourteen minutes before, after he'd texted Lestrade.


Since when is Anderson hiring an assistant?





he'd sent the ageing Detective Inspector. He hadn't received a response in any of the following timed he'd spent staring at the ceiling.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera's concentration on the book was broken by the sound of footsteps and a door closing downstairs. She figured it must be John, finally back from his errand. She remained silent as she closed the book and looked backward to see John coming up the stairs. She glanced back at Sherlock at the sound of an incoming text. Funny, she hadn't taken him for the texting type.

 

[Circledude5]

Since a month ago, Sherlock. And be nice to whoever gets it.





Typical.


John appeared with three paper grocery bags in his arms. Sherlock heard him poke his head through the door and then go into the kitchen and set the bags on the floor.


"Sherlock does your bloody equipment always have to be on the table?" John called.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera turned her attention away from Sherlock and looked back to John again. "Do you want any help?" She asked.


Staying here would definitely be interesting. Sherlock seemed to have a grudge against her soon to be boss, he was blunt and unconcerned of whomever he offended, and he seemed to be a proper genius. Though she couldn't help but wonder what it was about herself he didn't like.


Perhaps it was the simple fact that she was anyone but John.

 

[Circledude5]

"Love some," John sighed.


As Ciera got up to assist his flatmate with the groceries, Sherlock retreated into his Mind Palace. During his last case, things had gotten rather mixed around. All the orignisation he'd done in basement had been completely demolished, and it wasn't going to clean itself. John wondered why he spent so much time doing nothing, but honestly, maintaining a Mind Palace was quite hard work.

 

[Shadow Cat]

As soon as they had finished putting away the groceries, Ciera walked over to grab her suitcase and take it to the room that Sherlock had informed her was the spare. She didn't bother unpacking before returning to the living area.


Sherlock was laying on the couch doing seemingly nothing, but she knew him well enough by now to know that something interesting was going on in his mind.

 

[Circledude5]

He was fifteen, playing the violin in his bedroom. The case for his delicate instrument was open on the bed. There was a knock on the door. Mycroft, no doubt. Home from his new job with MI6, wanting to see "what he was up to". So far, he'd spent all of his summer holiday shut up in his room. Mycroft opened the door and came a few steps in.


"Sherlock," he started, "Sherlock we need to talk."


Sherlock didn't respond or stop playing. He kept his eyes out the window, looking at the grounds. The groundskeeper's dog, Percy, was trotting away from the house.


"Sherlock," Mycroft tried again. "It's mother, she -"


No! Sherlock picked up the worn violin case from the cold stone floor and clicked it closed hurriedly. This wasn't even supposed to be down here! It was supposed to be in the stables out back. How could it have possibly strayed so far? He walked to the stairs so he could go outside and put the old case where it was supposed to be.


As soon as he'd opened the door into the stables, he remembered that he had to tread very carefully here, lest he accidentally trigger something he didn't need on his his mind at the moment. He kept his eyes straight ahead, and placed the case back on the shelf where it should have been, next to a pair of soft leather boots. Then, he quickly got out of there. As soon as he'd shut the door behind him, he heard his name being called. For God's sake! I'm busy!

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera by now had walked back to the spare room and was going through her suitcase, reorganizing it. She was doing it more out of boredom than a need to organise it. Last time she had checked, John was sitting in his chair doing a crossword puzzle in the morning paper. She momentarily stuck her head out the door of the room. Yup, still doing the crossword puzzle.

 

[Circledude5]

It was John. Or at least, he thought it was John. No, when he finally tuned vision back on, he realised it had been the skull.


"Hearing voices in your head?" the skull drawled. It tutted. "That's no good, is it?"


Shut up. Sherlock told her firmly.


"Careful; you've got a new person here, Sherlock," it persisted, "And not even John knows I have my own voice."


"Shut up." Sherlock growled. John looked up from his crossword puzzle.


"What? I didn't say anything."


Sherlock rolled his eyes and silently kicked himself. Had he actually spoken out loud?

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera turned her attention to Sherlock as he spoke aloud.


"Shut up."


Ciera raised an eyebrow. John hadn't said anything as far as she had heard.


"What? I didn't say anything."


Well that was odd. Ciera turned her head to look at her phone as it rang from where she had left it on the bed. Walking over, she picked it up and answered. "Hello?"


"Hey, it's Anderson. I'm calling about the assistant job you applied for."

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock heard Ciera take a call, and quickly eliminated each possible caller. Not John, highly unlikely it was family...it was probably from New Scotland Yard. He could have eavesdropped, but instead he got up so he could adjust the position of his skull.


She would be facing the back of the mantelpiece for now. He glanced down at John's hardly-touched crossword.


"Dear Santa." Sherlock said quietly.


"Hm?" John looked around.


"Seven across, 'a line that goes to the North Pole'."


"Oh." John filled it in.


"And nine down is -"


John cleared his throat and Sherlock stopped talking. Because when he was doing the crossword he didn't like being supplied with the answers, even though it took him forever to do one.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera walked over and shut the door so she could hear him without being distracted.


"A serial homicide case just came in. We just got a lot of samples to test here in forensics. I would love if you could come in for your interview now so you can get started right away. After all, you do seem highly qualified."


"Sure, now is fine. I'll be over in half an hour." Ciera said before hanging up the phone and tossing it back on the bed.


She walked over to the door knob where she had hanged her black wool peacoat. She took a moment to wrap her scarf around her neck and button the coat before picking her phone back up and putting it in her coat pocket, then did the same with her wallet. She checked over her attire once more before walking out of the room.

 

[Circledude5]

His phone pinged as another text from Lestrade came in.


There's another. And we think this time he made a mistake.





He quickly tapped out a reply.


Give me the address. I'm on my way. SH





He roused John - "Get up, John. He's made a mistake!" - and pulled on his coat and scarf as he received the address.


Ciera came back down the stairs in her coat and scarf. This undoubtedly had to do with the Met. And she was leaving now, too. Why?


"Where and why are you going?" Sherlock said, rather intrusively. If it was about the serial killer, the case he'd been wanting on for the past week, he'd - why was Anderson always on Lestrade's cases? He'd only been on the first crime scene, and there had literally been no evidence except a body. Lestrade didn't let him on any of the next three. But now... there was something. Trust Anderson to mess it up.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera was about to descend the stairs that led down to the ground floor and ultimately outside so she could hail a cab when she heard Sherlock's voice. Turning back to look at him, she realized he was talking to her.


"My interview was bumped up to half an hour from now." Ciera said as she turned back toward the stairs and began descending, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore questions and she could just go about her day.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock wasn't quite sure what to make of this new information, but followed at a gallop, pushing past Ciera as she made her way through the entry hallway.


"Come on, John!" He shouted as he burst through the front door. He spotted an empty cab coming his way and ran out into the street.


"Taxi! Taxi!"


The cabbie stopped and he got in, waiting impatiently for John Watson, who apparently was unable to get out of the flat and into a cab in less than fifteen seconds.