Chapter 14

…

"Are you okay?" John asked his friend as he cast him a worried glance. "Perhaps horse riding was too soon."

Sherlock kept his look straight forward as he answered, "Don't be an idiot. I know Comanche and she knows me. We are fine."

"Yeah, but you were shot, remember," John tried again. It only earned him a nasty look from the man who strode beside him.

"Fine!" John threw his hands exasperated in the air, surrendering. "Fine. Just don't come to me to complain to me when it starts hurting."

"Mind over matter, John," Sherlock mumbled. He opened the whitewashed fence that led to the small shed in the back of the garden.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, mind over matter. Transport, remember? I'm fine." He stepped on the graveled path and walked towards the far end of the garden.

John looked at the house while he followed his friend. The shutters were open, but the door was closed. Perhaps Mrs. Clarke wasn't at home.

The two companions walked on in silence, but when they approached Jeremiah's domain, Sherlock stuck his index finger in the air. "Listen."

John stood still and listened, hearing a female voice singing, guided by the notes of a piano.

Sherlock grinned and placed his hand on the door knob, planning to open it.

John grabbed his hand before Sherlock could open the door. "The man is teaching, Sherlock!" he hissed angrily. "Give the girl some privacy!"

Sherlock grinned only wider and patted away John's hand. "Trust me on this."

John glared at Sherlock, who glared back until John slowly lifted his hand, allowing Sherlock to open the door.

"Thank you." Sherlock opened the door and stepped in with his usual flair. John entered soon after him, albeit more reluctantly. He remembered the embarrassment when someone entered the room when he was practicing the clarinet.

He blinked when the girl just continued singing with the same, perfectly steady soprano voice. He didn't recognise the song, but it did sound modern. Now and then she fell silent, so perhaps it was a duet.

He closed the door behind him and waited for his eyes to adjust to the lighting in the room. Sherlock had sat down in one of the few chairs Jeremiah had and had his light eyes fixed on the red-haired girl who continued singing without as much as looking at the intruders.

In another chair, John spotted a girl with strawberry-blond hair, who was slightly younger than the singing girl, and who flashed him a very bright smile he couldn't help but return.

He looked again at Sherlock, who had a strange, soft smile in his eyes. John thought deep. Red-hair. Singing. Anna.

Of course. He had to resist the urge to slap himself on his forehead.

Jeremiah bobbed his head curtly when he recognised John, but continued playing the song.

"And know I will be here holding you, as long as you are mine." The red-haired girl finished her song and squinted at Sherlock who clapped his hands slowly.

Jeremiah lifted his hands from the keys, ignoring Sherlock and John's presence, and turned on his piano stool to face Anna. "You did well," he said approvingly, "but you need to lengthen the notes more. You still follow the notes too much, you need to make the song more yours. How much time do you have?"

"Two months before the audition. Almost a year before the first performance," she answered, looking at her scores.

"Well done," Sherlock suddenly interjected. "But those long notes…I could hear you were short of breath."

"Thank you, Sherlock," Anna shot back, appearing not in the least insulted by Sherlock's words.

He got to his feet and let his eyes dart over his friend's form. His eyes narrowed for a few seconds before returning to cross Anne's, and he flashed a quick, almost fake, smile.

"I trust Comanche was fine this morning?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Yes, she was."

They looked at each other, silence hanging uncomfortably in the air.

John decided it was time to be introduced, and he coughed softly.

"Ah," Sherlock said, "This is Doctor John Watson, my friend and flatmate. John, this is Anna Rimmer."

John stepped closer, using this chance to get a good look on Anna. Her eyes were bright green, which created a sharp contrast with her bright red hair. She had a small nose and full lips, and freckles covered her face. He offered her his hand and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you at last, I have heard a lot about you," John said.

Anna chuckled. "I can imagine. By whom? Mycroft, Sherlock or his mummy?" she teased.

"All three, actually," John smiled.

Another cough interrupted the three of them. "This is Esther, my little sister. Except that she isn't that little anymore. Esther, these are Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson," Anna said quickly, stepping aside to make room for her sister.

"Thank you Anna, you are very kind," Esther pouted. "Hi. So, you are Sherlock Holmes. Anna says your accent is very posh. Is that true? I couldn't hear it after one sentence."

Sherlock cocked and eyebrow. "Does she say so?"

Esther giggled. "And yes, she was right. Awesome."

Anna grinned. "I think it has even gotten worse since I last saw you!"

"You speak like a French woman," Sherlock remarked, not carrying any real venom in it.

"Well, that is hardly a surprise, non? I have been living there for over five years."

They bickered on for some more minutes, until Jeremiah was sick of it. "Kids, stop it!" he bellowed, more for show than because of real anger. "Good heavens, a man can't work in such noise. Option A: you all go outside and be happy there, or B: you all stay here and keep your mouths shut! Your choice. Either one suits me just fine."

John shook his head. He still had to get used to Jeremiah's direct manner. "So," he said, facing Anna, "What song were you practicing? I didn't recognise it."

Anna smiled at him. "It's from a musical, called Wicked. It has been on stage in Broadway for over eight years, and now someone wanted to translate it to French to perform it there as well. The producer decided to do a French version, but an English version as well, for the tourists who come to Paris. I want to audition for the leading role of Elphaba, in the English version."

Esther nodded vehemently. "She's very good; she might even lead in an opera soon!"

That piqued Sherlock's interest. "What opera?"

Anna looked at him. "Zaïde, by Mozart. Hanz Friedrich Günz is rewriting it at the moment, it will be great. I am promised the role already, all I have to do is accept it."

Sherlock shrugged. "You have done operas before, what's different?"

"It's not about different or about my capabilities, it's…. let's just say it's personal."

Sherlock sighed, drawing John's attention to him. John blinked when he saw a strange emotion fleeting over Sherlock's face, before it was locked it away behind his usual cold mask of indifference. John was wondering why Sherlock was acting so smoothly, friendly, even chatty, but he also realised she was his childhood friend, that might help. Or he was acting really well. He glanced at Sherlock's eyes, which flickered between John and Anna. He was nervous.

"Lovely, lovely," Jeremiah mocked, clapping his hands. "You kids want to play a duet? What about..."

"I know what you're going to say, Jerry, and the answer is no. My shoulder hurts," Sherlock said, rudely interrupting his teacher. "I can't play my violin now. Perhaps later."

"Your violin?" Jeremiah asked, his eyes beginning to shine. "You brought your violin?"

Sherlock nodded. "Mycroft brought it for me. I wanted to ask something about it. It's often out of tune when it's cold."

"Yes?" Jeremiah asked absently as he took over the violin case from Sherlock. He carefully opened it and whistled when he picked the instrument up. "It's been too long," he sighed. "Do you mind..?" he asked, looking at Sherlock while gesturing at the violin.

Sherlock smiled approval at his old teacher and looked at Anna again.

"You behave really well," Anna grinned at Sherlock, teasing him.

John noticed she said it mockingly, but there was an undertone of wonder.

She continued, "You didn't even deduce the hell out of me or my sister, you chat, you don't interrupt. What happened?"

Sherlock frowned. "Nothing happened."

John chuckled. "I happened. He must behave, or I will be very angry and hide his cigarettes or my gun."

"Gun?" Esther blurted with wide eyes.

"Yes, gun. I was in the army," John explained. "I, erm, took the gun with me, but Sherlock's rather fond of using it to shoot the wall, or the lamps, or cups of tea…"

Sherlock just smiled at the shocked look on the blonde girl's face.

"But that's dangerous!" she gasped.

"Yeah," John agreed.

Some soft violin notes made the four grown-ups turn silent, all fixing their eyes on the tall, long-haired man with the delicate piece of wood between his chin and shoulder. The bow danced in his fingers, and his eyes were closed as he found the places where he had to put his fingers.

Sherlock blinked once, twice, and quickly made his way outside. Anna bit her lip as she looked at John, who was still gaping in wonder at Jeremiah.

She shook her head. "It's the song," she said apologising, and opened the door only to see Sherlock disappear behind the house. She sighed and ran after him, her sneakers making a lot of noise on the loose gravel.

John looked at Jeremiah. "What's wrong with the song?" he asked no one in particular but more to himself because he really couldn't find a fault in it.

When Jeremiah stopped playing, John asked Esther, "Where did they run off to?"

She shrugged and smirked. "Don't know, but I am sure they have loads to catch up on. So, Jeremiah, what piece was that?"

…

"Sherlock!" she shouted at her friend. "Where are you going?"

She didn't receive an answer, but when she rounded the corner, she bumped hard into Sherlock who had turned around and now came walking her way. He grabbed her by her upper arms, steadying her.

"We wouldn't want you to fall, would we?" he softly murmured as he let her go, his finger brushing the golden ring around her finger.

"I hope that the ring's not what upsets you," she sighs, straightening her blouse.

"Of course not!" Sherlock glared at her. "What's his name?"

Anna beamed. "Jamie."

Sherlock huffed. "Ordinary name."

"Well," Anna said, mock-pouting, "His last name is very unusual, so I think you might even like him."

"What's his last name?"

"Moriarty. Jamie Moriarty. He lives here nearby, I met him when I was celebrating the holidays with my parents. It's such a lovely, charming man..! Eh, I think he might be your parents' neighbour!" She playfully hit his good shoulder with her balled fist.

Sherlock swallowed hard and his face paled. His eyes scanned her again, more thoroughly this time, and he saw. The signs were there, undeniably there.

He balled his fists too, and greeted Anna curtly. "There is something that I need to do." He turned on his heels and made a hasty depart.

Anna frowned as she looked after her retreating friend's back. This was not her friend's normal behaviour, at least not towards her. Something was wrong, but what?

Right at that moment, her phone buzzed, indicating a new message.

"Hi Anna, I can't make it today, I'm sorry. I will arrive tomorrow evening. Is this Sherlock fellow there already? I can't wait to meet him! Love you, Jamie."

She smiled and hit the answer button. "Yeah, Sherlock is here too. He's dying to meet you. Love you too."

…

Somewhere in the hot French sun, on a small terrace surrounded by ivy, Jamie sipped from his second glass of extraordinary wine that afternoon as he placed his phone back on the table. Sherlock, dying to meet him? Anna dear was lying to him, or Sherlock was really stupid. Jamie chuckled. He liked the word-play.

Sherlock, dying to meet him.

This was getting better and better.

… ToBeContinued

…

Sorry, bit of a shorty this time. :) BUT I do have a nice cliffy.

Thanks to all my reviewers, I treasure them!

Achievableformoflight: Thank you for all your lovely reviews! It's a pleasure reading them. Hopefully you will keep enjoying them!

Agent007Tomato: I know! Here, have another one xD

Hanging in there: … and you alerted anyway xD No, you are right, I think. But this is Sherlock we're talking about xD Call it creative freedom or Sherlockian mind over matter, I liked that chapter xD That's the curse of not having a Beta J

…

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