Falling Stars and Cigarettes

Feeling So Small

    Sibley felt so stupid. As she moved through the rain, make it easier to cry without getting caught, and feeling like she was the main character in a cliché movie, she really hated herself. First off, she should have known that the Sherlock Holmes didn't find her intelligent and didn't take interest in her. Second off, she shouldn't have expected him to be caring, to love her. Third off, she had been so terribly dramatic. Of course, Sherlock was being a jerk and dramatic as well, she had really taken things out of proportion. After her episode of constant stuttering and inability to speak, she had just screamed and stormed out like a child throwing a tantrum or a dramatic girlfriend. Yeah, she wasn't exactly her biggest fan right now and it didn't help that she had no money for a cab so the dreary rain soaked and flattened her dark, curly, locks, only making her more irritated and upset.

"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You foolish girl." she chastised herself. The crying was only getting worse, as was the a he in her chest, so she rounded a corner and slid down the side of some Italian restaurants wall. She wrapped her arms around her knees and allowed herself to shake and sob, an action she typically refused to do, no matter how upset she was. She hated feeling weak. Feeling childish. She may have been considered a minor, but she truly wasn't a child. She had grown up quickly, dealt with adult issues like bills and work and taxes. Yet here she was feeling so small.

   The sound of car tires slicing through water startled her, causing her to look over. There was a large black van sitting on the street next to where she was. She stood up, prepared to run if need be, as a man in a suit stepped out and opened the door, gesturing her inside. She looked at him with raised eyebrows, shaking her head.

"Miss Lawrence," a posh voice came from the car, she tilted her head to peak in and find another man in a suit sitting there, "I suggest you get in on your own merits, or my friends here will have force you," he said, voice impassive. She scanned over the man standing. He was certainly armed and certainly trained. She gulped and stepped forward.

~~~

   John took half a second to decide which issue to address first as his shell-shocked flat mate picked up the photo. Whether or not this girl was truly his daughter didn't matter yet, what mattered is his manners that had clearly frightened the poor girl out of her wits. He turned and angry, threatening, glare on the consulting detective.

"Sherlock, what is wrong with you? That girl did nothing to deserve that treatment," he snapped.

"She was hiding something, I needed to know what," Sherlock said, voice lacking any remorse as he stared down at the photo. Sure enough it was one of the last photos he had taken with Bre Lawrence. A beautiful, kind woman, whom he found himself falling for. She was a genius. Not nearly as smart as the Holmes' but smarter than the rest of the normal people. She had sharp wit and the ability to get whatever she wanted from whomever she wanted and oh, how he had loved her. He did not want to love her. He really didn't. However, it didn't matter how many times he had repeated 'caring is not an advantage' to himself. He couldn't let her go. Then they took their intimacy to the next level and that was enough to terrify him. She was becoming so attached and he felt himself become attached and, in an effort to keep himself right, he packed his things and ran. It seemed he was wrong in thinking the past would never catch up to him.

"Is she really your daughter?" John asked, still irritated but more curious.

"I believe so... Come on." he ordered, standing and rushing to the door, already pulling on that dramatic coat of his.

"Where are we going?" John asked, following him out of the flat and into the rain.

"To see an old flame."

~~~

   Sibley watched the man next to her warily. Trying to deduce what she could. He clearly held an important role in the government, but most normal people could figure that out. He pretended not to notice her staring, which she appreciated, clearly he didn't care about her watching him. He didn't look all that threatening, but he didn't look like a puppy dog either. She wasn't in the best mind set at the moment, being distracted by how cold she was. The man seemed to notice her discomfort.