221c - A Sherlock Fanfiction

Sherlock

I ruffled both of my hands through my hair quickly, making it poof up and lay back down rather messy and unkempt. Allison looked at me and smirked. "It's cute how you do that."

"What?"

"I said, 'It's cute how you do that.'"

"No, I heard you the first time. I just don't understand."

"Yes you do." And with that, she waltzed out of my flat. She was interesting. One minute, telling me that 'romance was overrated', which it was, mind you, and the next, telling me I was cute.

I woke up at about midnight. Someone was playing the cello. Very well, mind you. It wasn't a piece I recognized either. Whoever was playing must have composed it themselves. It was very beautiful. The piece wasn't very complicated, and I picked up the melody fairly quickly. I grabbed my violin and joined in, following the flow and pitch. The cello stopped abruptly, dying off mid-note.

I repeated the previous piece, and no reply. After about five minutes, the cellist started playing a new piece. Tchaikovsky. One I knew. Again, I replied. This time, the cellist didn't stop. They simply morphed this piece into a Mozart one. I followed suit. This went on for an hour, until eventually the cellist stopped. I let my own playing die off.

I heard footsteps on the stairs. Allison opened the door. She stood in the doorframe. I still had my violin perched against my jaw, the bow hovering right above the strings.

She smiled. "I knew it!" She pointed at the violin. I lowered it from the side of my jaw and turned to look at her. "You have good technique."

"And you have the most incredible ear for music!"

"Well that comes with practice. I'm sure you could do the same."

"Well yeah, but wow. You are an incredible violinist."

"Care to bring the cello up here?"

"It's one o'clock in the morning."

"So?" As I said this, she dashed out the door. About five minutes later, she reappeared, clutching the cello by the neck, bow in the other hand. I gestured for her to sit in John's chair, and she did, setting up her cello. I started playing a new piece I was composing, standing by the window, and she picked up the melody.

Mrs. Hudson came in at about seven AM. "How long have you been playing, Sherlock!?" Allison stopped and stood up, resting her cello against John's chair.

"Since midnight." She turned to face the landlady, who was rather shocked.

"You too?"

"I'm not sure what you mean by that, Mrs. Hudson."

"You play all night too? No one is ever going to get any sleep around here."

"Well I couldn't sleep. I thought that working on the piece that I was composing would help me. Then I heard Sherlock start playing his violin, and I couldn't stop."

Mrs. Hudson turned to me. "Were you awake?"

"Not until she started to play. I woke up to a very lovely piece, and had the idea to answer it. It became a contest until she came down to this flat. Then we started to work on a piece together." Mrs. Hudson had a look on her face which is hard to transcribe. It was a mix of approval and concern, conflicting emotion.

"Well then, I guess that's alright." And with that, she left.

Allison turned to look at me. "Tea?"

I nodded. She walked into the kitchen, and I heard her rummaging around. I sat down on the sofa, and picked up my mobile phone. I was checking texts when she returned from the kitchen.

She handed me a cup of tea and held one of her own. She sat down next to me on the sofa. I looked at her out of the corner of my eyes and noticed that she was doing the same.