Repens

The next morning, Mrs. Hudson was interviewing potential renters for the flat that would be empty in a few weeks. This meant that the young beautiful Miss Thomas would be downstairs alone. John saw this as the perfect opportunity to have a bit of alone time with her. Walking down the stairs, he found that her being quite younger slightly intimidated and aroused him. She had to be about twenty-four, though her looks suggested very early twenties.
He knocked on the door and waited patiently. Another few knocks and his chest started to tighten. The very idea was suddenly ridiculous. Just as he turned to walk away, the door opened. When he began to walk back to the door, he found Stephanie wrapped in a big fluffy bath towel. The glorious inappropriate sight filled his face with heat.
“Hello, Dr. Watson! Good morning to you!” She might as well have sang the wonderful words rather than speak them.
“Ah, Miss Thomas, I see I’ve caught you at a bad time,” the good doctor sighed, doing his best to look anywhere else.
“Nonsense, come on in and I’ll be dressed in a flash.” She moved aside for John to come in and closed the door behind him.
“You are always so cheerful. It’s quite refreshing,” John chuckled, still nervous and unsure how to talk to a woman of such greatness- one entirely different than any other woman in London, despite what Sherlock claimed.
“It must be different to say the least, considering you live with the most pessimistic man in all of England. Perhaps in all the world,” she laughed from her room down the hall.
Her clothes were put on and moments later the two were sipping tea in Mrs. Hudson’s living room. Stephanie put on some comfortable lounging clothes but still looked amazing, wet hair and all.
“There’s more to him than what you saw yesterday. Sherlock is just…”
“Too brilliant for his own good.” she finished for him. “He’s bored with situations that would keep any normal man up all night. What is extravagant for most is so obvious to him. He lives in a different world, therefore doesn’t find much amusement in this one. And that just might be why he is only content while in the middle of a case. Oh, to be that intelligent,” she sighed, catching John off guard for a second time with her own superior intelligence. Stephanie momentarily glanced at the door, returned her stare to Watson, and concluded, “But Sherlock Holmes will not be truly happy until he learns the importance of proper relationships. Anyone would be lucky to have someone looking after them like my aunt and a friend like you, John.”
“And lucky I am, indeed,” Sherlock bellowed, walking into the room as if it were his own flat.
“Ah, Mr. Holmes,” greeted the little red head.
“John, you are needed upstairs,” Sherlock announced.
“Upstairs? The only one that could need me upstairs is you and you're down here,” John argued with every intention of staying.
“Well, I came down to ask you to come back up with me,” answered the tall handsome man.
“Or perhaps you would like a cup of tea, Mr. Holmes,” the soft melodic voice offered with double intentions.
Sherlock froze at her comment, holding back every cross statement he wanted to unleash. With a single nod of his head, he declined.
“I’ll be up in a bit,” John assured.
“No, now,” Holmes childishly demanded.
“Goodness, does he always order you around like that? It’s horrible. If I were you, I would decline and see how he manages without you. He did it before and no doubt he could do it again,” she stated fearlessly.
At this Sherlock couldn’t resist. He reminded himself of the scream game, the one he wanted to win more than any game he had played in weeks.
“Now see here, Cassidy, John is a dear friend and most trusted colleague. Yes, I did cases before John but I much prefer having him with me than not. Two opinions are more acceptable to the police than mine alone.”
“And is that because they don’t trust you or do they simply find your arrogance a severe fault? Besides, I imagine Dr. Watson is your only friend. No one else can probably tolerate you, much less work with you.”
Apparently, Miss Thomas wanted to play the game as well. But she wouldn’t win, of course. Sherlock had it all planned out in his mind and in the end there was no way little Cassidy could come out on top.
“John,” Sherlock called, making his way out of the room. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and yelled to Stephanie, “Oh, and please tell your aunt it will be a late night and not to worry about dinner.”
As soon as the men couldn’t hear she whispered to herself, “He said please. I didn’t know he was aware of the word.” Amused at this, it being a word he clearly didn’t use except when he absolutely had to, she couldn’t help blushing and smiling, like a little fan-girl.

“What was that all about?” John asked his extremely rude friend. “I hadn’t been down there but a few minutes. You said it was going to be a light day work-wise.”
“Yes I did. And it kills me to know that you would have spent precious research time with Cassidy. Priorities man,” Sherlock lectured.
“Her name is Stephanie, for the hundredth time. You just don’t want me getting involved with her. That is all this amounts to.”
“Oh, do be serious. I don’t want the girl to consume your thoughts and every last bit of your spare time. A woman clouds the mind, John. It takes both of us to solve cases. I don’t want to be solving them while you’re texting little sentimental petty notes.”
“I never text during a case, unless you tell me to. And maybe ‘the girl’ was right. You don’t need me for every case. If I miss out on one it won’t be the end for you. You, Sherlock, are more than capable of solving the one tonight completely on your own.” John was getting fired up now. He was no prisoner to the great detective. He had his own life and he had never missed a case since the two of them had met.
“And what would you do with your free night? Would it be an expensive impressive night out or would it be a more cozy quiet night in? Would it be the finest restaurant in London or cuddling on the couch watching a meaningless film?” Sherlock had a disgusted expression as he said cuddling, as if it was a curse word more than an act of intimacy.
“You like her. If you didn’t none of this would matter to you.”
Sherlock plopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. With his hands together resting under his pointed chin he hissed, “Think, John. The case. Where shall we start with this one?”

She heard them running down the stairs about an hour later, off to the big crime scene she suspected. Drawing had lost her attention quite some time ago and nothing remotely interesting was on the telly. She had recently changed her clothes out of boredom. Her aunt would be gone for another several hours and she had already gone through the flat in search of anything, twice. A delicious thought popped into her head but she immediately pushed it away.
“What to do?” she sighed, ignoring the growing urge. “Be reasonable, Steph,” she pleaded with herself. After a pause and deep breath, she knew that if she didn’t take this opportunity, she would always regret it. “So we’re going detective chasing, are we? Alright, here we go!”
Stephanie leapt off the sofa and grabbed her coat and gloves. Tonight was going to be fun. Tonight she was going to watch Sherlock work his magic first hand. The only challenge was going to be staying out of sight while following and watching them.
“Let’s see how good you really are… Mr. Holmes.”