Chapter 2

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SHERLOCK'S POV

I paced around the flat, deep in thought, when John crashed through the door. I snapped my head up to meet his gaze.

"Be quiet," I demanded, glaring at him.

"I didn't say anything," John argued. He rolled his eyes and sat down in his chair.

"You were going to. And you were thinking," I responded, rubbing my temples. "Now stop talking." John sighed, getting up to make some tea. He paused.

"What exactly are you thinking about, Sherlock?" I glared at him again.

"You're talking right now. I can't think when you're talking," I replied, sitting down in my chair. "And I was thinking about Amelia."

"Why are you thinking about her?" John asked, turning around and looking up from what he was doing.

"I don't know, she's just...strange. She fascinates me, but I don't know why. I don't like not knowing." I frown. Who is she and why won't she tell me her last name? "One of the few things I do know is that she shoots the wall when she's bored." I grinned at that thought, picking up my gun from the coffee table.

"Sherlock..." John warned, stepping cautiously towards me. I raised my eyebrows, aiming at the face on the wall.

"Bored!" I shot it in the left eye, before aiming for the right. Before I could shoot the wall again, John had snatched the gun from my grasp. I glared at him before curling up and facing the back of my chair.

"Sherlock, if you're bored, then just look through those cases on the table. Maybe you could take Amelia along on one of them," John suggested, handing me the files. I glared at him before taking them. After flipping through them, I picked one that had caught my eye.

"This one is tolerable. The rest are boring," I said, standing up and walking to my bedroom. I closed my door behind me and set the file down on the counter. This was going to be a long night.

AMELIA'S POV

When I woke up, I heard something moving beside me. Without opening my eyes, I could tell who it was.

"Stop staring. It's rude," I muttered, opening my eyes and looking to my right.

"Fine. Get dressed, we're going on a case," Sherlock replied, walking out of my bedroom. I groaned, pulling myself up and out of bed. After getting dressed in some jeans and a black shirt, I slipped on my boots and made sure I was carrying my weapons. I grabbed my leather jacket before going downstairs and running out the door where Sherlock and John were waiting.

"Took you long enough," John muttered.

"What was that?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in amusement.

"Nothing." John looked down and blushed.

"Now, can either of you explain to me why I'm going with you two on a case? I just met you yesterday for goodness sakes!" I shouted, looking at Sherlock for answers.

"Mycroft," Sherlock replied. I groaned inwardly. I took out my phone when it buzzed. I read it before responsing. I debated for a moment with myself before adding my last initial to my little "signature" at the end of the text, not caring whether Sherlock saw it or not.

Be nice, Amelia. ~MH

What am I supposed to do? ~AM

Amelia M? Well that's nice to know. One step closer to finding out your last name... It's only been fourteen years. ~MH

Grow up Mycroft. I don't think that's going to be much of a help anyways. Now, what am I supposed to do, babysit them? ~AM

Just make sure that Sherlock doesn't get into too much trouble. Moriarty's been a problem recently. ~MH

Fine ~AM

I frowned at the phone before pocketing it and getting in the cab with the boys. I tried not to think about Moriarty. He thought I was dead. He thought I had died, all those years ago, when I was only fifteen.

"Amelia M.?" Sherlock asked, studying me.

"Drop it," I said, crossing my arms and leaning back. When Sherlock opened his mouth to speak again, I continued. "I'm your babysitter now apparently. You have to listen to me, and if you have a problem with that, you can talk to Mycroft."

"Why do we need a babysitter?" Sherlock huffed. "We can look after ourselves." My phone buzzed again. I took it out of my pocket and read the message before showing it to Sherlock.

Tell Sherlock that if he doesn't listen then he can come talk to me, and it won't be pleasant. ~MH

Sherlock took this moment to snatch my phone away and search through it. I sighed, leaning back and closing my eyes as he searched through my cell.

"Sherlock, the only last name you'll find is a fake one. If you couldn't tell already, Pond doesn't start with an M," I explained, opening my eyes again. He handed me back my cell, crossing his arms as he pouted.

"Why won't you tell me your last name?" Sherlock grumbled, paying the driver when we came to a stop.

"I won't tell you because you won't like me if I tell you," I explained, walking alongside John while Sherlock caught up to us. "And just telling you isn't any fun, now is it?"

"At least it's more convenient." Sherlock sighed, giving up on me.

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