Repens

It was another two days before Steph felt almost normal again. When the young woman woke up, she found that she was home alone. After throwing on the blue robe, making the bed, a quick breakfast, and a wonderful shower, she went downstairs for a visit.

"Look who's back from the dead," sang the excited sweet landlady.

"I wanted to come by to thank you for taking care of me while the boys were out the last few days."

"Nothing at all, dearest. You came for a holiday but I'm not sure this was all you bargained for," sighed the loving aunt.

"It's been quite the experience, yeah?" They sat in front of the telly for several minutes before Steph quietly thought aloud, "It's going by too quick. I blinked and a week went by."

"Honestly, Steph," Mrs. Hudson replied with disapproval. "You make it sound like you've been at a picnic all this time. First that horrible incident and then the flu. Your holiday is only beginning." The elder saw the light fade from her niece's eyes. She grabbed the soft hand then reminded, "Only five days left. What are you going to do?"

"Do?" The girl suddenly smiled. "Yes, what are we going to do today?" Changing the subject was much more simple than even thinking about leaving all of this behind- the life she had always longed for in her wildest, most secret of dreams.

"Are you sure you feel up to going out? I was going to run by a few shops in a while. Maybe have lunch out?"

"Yeah. I'd fancy lunch out with my favorite aunt," Steph smiled, welcoming the one on one time with the only family member that came close to understanding her. Then again, Mrs. Hudson had plenty of practice with intelligent sociopaths.

They took off after Jeremy Kyle went off, Mrs. Hudson's favorite. Steph loved to watch her aunt watch the ridiculous show. The old woman would scream and shout at the bad mothers, absentee fathers, and wild children.

"I don’t know what makes people so mad these days," the woman sighed as the world's troubles flooded her mind.

"Would you like me to remind you who occupies the flat above yours now or later?" laughed an amused Stephanie.

The two women took the tube down to Westminster. It had only been a few days since Sherlock had taken her to the very spot but it took her breath all the same. Big Ben rang a loud greeting as tourists mused at the sights and sounds, cameras everywhere. But one camera appeared to be out of place. He was pretending to be in awe of the grand clock tower but kept glancing at her. Her first instinct was to confront the staring stranger but she couldn't put her aunt, oblivious to most things, in harm's way.

"Ah, St. Stephen's Tavern. I've always wanted to eat here. Heard they have fantastic fish and chips." The words were spilling out while she took her aunt's arm and pulled her inside the safe public place. "Better burry. The second lunch shift will be coming any moment."

Mrs. Hudson laughed at her niece's sudden enthusiasm. If only the old thing knew how much danger they were in. Steph thought about texting Sherlock to let him know what was going on. She had tried to tell him before but he immediately shut her up for some reason. What did he think she was going to tell him? Or the better question, what didn't he want to hear? He was probably on a case and wouldn't want to be bothered by something that could wait. This was exactly why he hadn't wanted a girlfriend. This was precisely the sort of unwelcomed distraction he had avoided until her. She could keep a sharp eye out today and catch him up later tonight. Nothing too severe could happen in the next several hours. Nothing she couldn't take care of. Right?

The meal was pleasant but her attention was diverted, not that her aunt noticed. She began to tell the same four stories about her and Steph's mom- the ones about tormenting eachother until her mother finally moved out. Mrs. Hudson would always say that she victoriously ran her elder sister off while her mother always claimed to be victorious by moving out first, growing up first. But as the story was ending, Steph couldn't help noticing faces peeking through the windows. Some were simply rude tourists searching for a place to eat while others appeared more suspicious.

"Steph?" The girl was taken from her thoughts. "I asked if you were alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Suddenly not feeling well. Guess I wasn't ready for a day out after all," the clever girl lied. From here to 221B Baker Street, she needed to be very careful. Their lives depended on it. "Would you mind waiting while I go to the loo?" She knew Mrs. Hudson couldn't pass a chance to use the loo, even if it was just to fix her hair or lipstick.

"Oh, I'll join you, dear." Perfect.

They left their money and crossed the sea of tables and smiling faces. Once they got to the toilet, it was a bit crowded. Mrs. Hudson told Steph to go first. At first the girl wanted to argue, knowing that she could keep them safer by being the look-out. But her going first proved very useful. When she walked in, she immediately found the perfect solution to their current problem. Was is the proper thing to do? Of course not, she thought with a large grin.

The red haired girl at the sink was clearly an American tourist. She wore black trousers identical to the ones Steph was wearing. Same hairstyle and the same amount of cover-up. It was a match made in heaven.

"Hello," she greeted the young foreigner.

"Hey," the confused girl replied with a bit of hesitance.

"I really like that shirt. Quite a bit, actually."

"Oh," the girl blushed, obviously not used to talking to strangers. "Got it from Target back home."
"America, yeah?"

"Yeah. How did you know?" she laughed, hardly more than an ignorant child.

"We won't go into that," grinned Steph, silently deducing the teenager. "Do you like my shirt?" The girl quickly nodded after taking a good hard look at the expensive fabric and design. "Good. Could I bother you to trade? Free of charge! Take the L.K. Bennett shirt off my back and enjoy the remainder of your time in London."

Once the girl's jaw returned to its proper place, she only nodded.

Stephanie heard her aunt come in while she was changing shirts with her look-alike in the next stall. The American was first to leave, completely giddy about what was sure to be the most memorable souvenir of the trip. The loo had emptied considerably when Stephanie followed the girl to the door. She watched with her head slightly peeked out to watch the girl disappear. Her aunt came out and began washing her hands without a care in the world. While she wasn't looking, the clever young woman threw an earring on the ground.

"Have you seen a black earring auntie?"

"No, have you lost one, dear?"

"Yeah. I think it dropped over here," she lied, keeping an eye on the supposedly missing object. This gave whoever was following her a chance to follow the thick American. "Oh, found it!"

"Oh, wonderful," Mrs. Hudson cheered clasping her hands together with joy. "Are we ready then?"
"Think so," Steph smiled.

They were walking out when the daft old dear asked, "Have you been wearing that shirt all day?"

"Oh, auntie Hudson," she giggled, linking her arm through her aunt's.

They walked out of the tavern when Steph took a quick glance around, just in case. After scanning the area for only fifteen seconds, she saw three large brutes walking a few paces behind her American. She told her aunt to wait a moment before they ventured on. Her pulse rose as one tapped the girl on the shoulder. The girl's face was priceless after cheerfully turning around to find the six threatening eyes staring at her. Steph wished she could have seen their big rough faces looking at eachother in complete bewilderment. The girl they had been following wasn't the one they wanted.

"Brilliant," she whispered, feeling more clever and accomplished than she had in days. "Let's get back home. Still not feeling well."

"Absolutely, sweetheart. On our way now."

When they returned to Baker Street, John and Sherlock were sitting at Mrs. Hudson's kitchen table. The two pairs were puzzled at eachother's presence. Sherlock was first to break the shared stares.
"You're safe," he breathed, overly thankful.

The usually cold man stood from his chair, crossed the room, and pulled Steph to his chest.
"You had any doubts?" She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, not wanting to worry him just yet.

"We didn't know you were going out today and when we came back, everything was empty. Nothing was moved but we got worried. Wouldn't be the first time…"

"That's enough Dr. Watson," the landlady grinned, not even wanting to think about another kidnapping at Baker Street.

The lover' eyes met just before Steph whispered, "You. Upstairs."

"Yes, ma'am," Sherlock replied, almost flirtatious. At first he wondered why she wasn't returning his intimate gestures. It was as if she didn't even appreciate his being so bold.

She took his hand and promised the others that they would be down shortly. There was something they needed to talk about. John and her aunt only nodded, trying to hide their astonishment at Sherlock's hugging her. These were strange times at Baker Street. They left the others in the kitchen making small talk, Mrs. Hudson telling John what a wonderful lunch they had. But that wasn't the version Ms. Thomas was about to tell her boyfriend.