221 B Baker Street
I sit on the couch across the room from his regular chair, took my shoes off and put my legs up on the rest of the couch. He sat in his chair, Watson sat in the one opposite to him and Abbs sat on one of the chairs at his desk, the one closest to me of course.
"Sherlock! Sherlock, I was just on the phone with- Oh my." the kind old face smiled at me. Mrs. Hudson, the lady from downstairs. I knew she would come by but she had no idea that I was going to be here. I smiled back over my shoulder.
"How are you Mrs. Hudson? It's been a while."
Her hands clasped in front of her like they normally do. "Too long I'm afraid, far too long. Can I get you or your guest anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?"
"Cacao." I said plainly. I never like tea or coffee, I was always one for a nice cup of cacao. Abbs just shook her head with a smile. She doesn't drink anything unless she has too.
"Of course," she nodded and started heading over to the kitchen. "Sherlock, Watson can I make you some tea."
Nothing. Not a sound from him. He's deep, lost in his thoughts.
"Tea would be lovely, thank you." It was Watson who spoke, not him. Too far gone in his thoughts to give even simple, old Mrs. Hudson the time of day. I knew where he was and I knew I would be able to get to him. He was in a place called his Mind Palace. A place where everything that he knows is stored until he needs it, or until he finds it useful.
I started following him. Down the long, bright hallways. Quietly so I didn't startle him. We passed by letters and signs. Drawers full of information, but nothing that we were looking for. We were looking for something else, a person, a thing. When he stopped. Dead in his tracks, I couldn't tell what he was looking at but I knew that it wasn't what we were looking for.
"Here you go Liz." Mrs. Hudson was handing me my cup, she had already given the two guys theirs and now I was the only one without a cup, except Abbs.
"Thank you." To which I took the cup and saucer. Glad to still be able to have some hot cacao. Glad to know that Sherlock hadn't completely forgotten about me.
I looked over at him. Knowing, thinking that he wouldn't look at me but he was. He didn't take his eyes off me for a while. Nobody noticed, because they were all too concentrated on other things. I didn't move, didn't flinch, nothing. I looked back at him with a knowing look. I knew that he wished that I came back sooner, I knew that he needed this time with me, I knew that he wanted to be alone with me and then suddenly I knew too.
"So that's why you stopped." Everyone turned to me, but I was only looking at him. There were questions floating around the room, unanswered, unasked, unwanted.
But he just smiled.