Vague Shadows

Six Weeks Later

“Rough day?” Jeanette asked sympathetically as I dropped my forehead onto the lunch table. I grunted a reply as she gave my shoulder a soothing pat. I was so worn through I could hardly manage to keep myself on the bench.

After a moment or two of smelling the harsh cleaners on the table, I propped my chin up in my hand and began to poke at my hamburger.

“Four tests in one day, it’s unbelievable,” I griped, stuffing a fry into my mouth. “My brain is completely fried.”

“It would probably taste better than the pizza,” Riley sighed, sitting beside Jeanette and dropping his tray down with a dissatisfied frown. The cheese had an unhealthy greyish tinge, and the sauce looked painfully stale.

“Delicious selection today,” I agreed, settling on picking my bun apart as opposed to actually eating my lunch.

“How’ve things been going with… You know,” Jeanette said casually, flicking her brows up. I’d more or less told her and Riley about the happenings between Sherlock and I, though granted I had left out a bit. Riley wasn’t too bothered about my romantic intensions, but Jeanette loved talking about it, and besides, I had to tell her; she was my best friend, after all. If I thought it best, I would have spilled everything, but it was best to keep our relations a quiet affair.

Not only did there happen to be an unbelievable amount of passionate Sherlock fans at the school (they managed to find out everything to do with him), I figured any romantic interludes between a 17 year old girl and a 28 year old man were frowned upon. Not that I cared, and not that Sherlock seemed to mind, but I had a feeling Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade would be less-than-pleased.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to answer Jeanette’s question. I mean, I didn’t even know what our relationship would be considered. We weren’t dating, certainly not that, but we weren’t just friends. We kissed on occasion, and we did spend most of our time together. I’d spent several nights in his bed when I had nightmares, and twice we’d fallen asleep on the couch together. But past that…

“They’re fine,” I said simply, giving a shrug because I wasn’t sure what else to say. “Nothing much has happened, honestly. He’s been preoccupied with finding an interesting case. He gets… destructive when he’s bored, so Lestrade’s attempting to keep him busy, if for no other reason than to save Mrs. Hudson’s wallpaper.”

“Sounds like a thrill,” she teased, glancing over as Riley left to go find something edible. Once he was out of earshot, I leaned forward.

“How are things with him?”

Jeanette flushed a bit and moved closer. A couple weeks ago she’d confessed to me that she had a crush on Riley; I’d been expecting it, honestly, but not from her. I knew Riley had fancied her for a while. But of course, now she was attempting to confess her feelings to him, it wasn’t going so well. Apparently, Riley was just as oblivious as Sherlock when it came to romance.

“I keep dropping hints, and I’ve even been straightforward a few times, but he’s not getting it,” she sighed. “He probably doesn’t fancy me anyways. How did you know Sher-“ she dropped her voice. “How did you know he liked you back? What did you do to get his attention?”

“Well,” I mumbled, furrowing my brow. “It was either being beaten to a bloody pulp, getting held at gunpoint by Oliver, or jumping into a lake half-drugged and nearly drowning.”

Jeanette gave me an exasperated look, and I quirked my brows.

“I’m short on a gun, and I’m way too tired to beat you up, so let’s say we dig up something lethal around my flat, I’ll drug you and Riley, and we’ll go swimming.”

“You’re hilarious Laicee,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and leaning back as Riley sat back down, apple in hand.

“Oi,” he said, nodding his head towards a group of girls. “Looks like the Sherlock fanclub is at it again.”

I narrowed my eyes and shifted a little closer to listen to what they were saying. The lot of them drove me up a wall. I wasn’t jealous, per say. I was more irritated than anything. Their lives revolved around Sherlock in an unhealthy way. Twice John had caught them sneaking pictures of him and looting our bins.

All of the girls had on scarves in various shades of blue –all matching Sherlock’s- and a few even had on long, billowing black jackets. I made a face.

“Now I was thinking that if we went over and asked, maybe showed him the work we’ve been doing for him, Sherlock would come and speak at the graduation this year,” said one of the girls, smoothing out a shirt with Sherlock’s picture. The caption beneath his face read “Brilliance is Beautiful” with Sherlock’s Sweethearts scrawled across the back.

I almost gagged on my fry. One of the girls glanced over at me and said just loud enough for me to hear,

“I don’t think Sherlock’s little stalker is happy with his new appreciation group.”

The other girls sneered at me, one even having the nerve to mutter,

“She probably doesn’t even know him like we do. It’s unbelievable.”

“That’s it,” I muttered, shoving my tray aside. Jeanette barely managed to grab my wrist and pull me back down.

“Come on, ignore it,” Riley sighed. “They’re insane. You know that.”

“I’d love to see them show up at our door with that ridiculous shirt. He’d berate them to tears. Deduce the happiness out of them.”

“You’re so sweet,” Jeanette muttered, and I gave her a look as the lunch bell rang. We stood and tossed our half-eaten “food” away, then shuffled down the hall. Riley gave us goodbye hugs as he disappeared into his classroom while Jeanette and I trekked up the stairs.

“At least the day’s almost over,” she told me, noting the look of disdain on my face as we neared our class. I ran a hand through my curls and gave a heavy sigh as we walked into class.

“Two more hours until freedom,” I agreed, and we reluctantly took our seats; a couple of “Sherlock’s Sweethearts” came in a minute or so later, and apparently the look on my face was enough to prompt Jeanette’s intervention.

“You wanna come over and watch a movie tonight?” she asked as I began to irritably scribble down the notes on the board.

“I can’t,” I apologized. “I’m heading down to Dartmoor for the weekend with Sherlock and John.”

“A case?” she asked me, turning in her seat to talk to me easier. At the mention of Sherlock’s name, the girls across from me all sat up, and one leaned over.

“I hear he’s doing a charity case for this orphan boy,” she said, acting as if she had the one-up on me about Sherlock. I rolled my eyes.

“Think what you like, Deanna.”

“As if you’d know,” she sneered, giving me a look and flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t expect his maid to know him like I know him.”

“How about I give Sherlock a new murder to solve?” I growled as Mrs. Davies walked in, only half-joking. Jeanette gave me an exasperated look.

As class began, I did my best to lose myself in the work. Mrs. Davies was speaking fast, and I was soon focusing completely on keeping up with my notes. About halfway through class, I heard the door open, and Mrs. Davies cut off. I glanced up, and actually dropped my pencil from surprise.

“Donovan?” I asked, pushing my notes aside. Directly behind her came Anderson, looking more than aggravated. I furrowed my brows and straightened up, ignoring the incredulous looks from my classmates. All I could think was, What did Sherlock get himself into this time?

Mrs. Davies made to stop the pair of them from coming further in, but Donovan flashed her badge; I saw Mrs. Davies eyes widen.

“Sergeant Sally Donovan, New Scotland Yard. I need to have a few words with Ms. Bennett.”

I could hear “Sherlock’s Sweethearts” beginning to murmur vigorously as they shot me glances; Jeanette gave me an incredulous look, mouthing, What the hell did you do now? I gave a puzzled shrug and looked up as Donovan paused by my desk.

“Has Sherlock been by yet?” Donovan asked; the girls across the room let out giggles at Sherlock’s name, and Donovan gave them a puzzled sideways glance.

“No, he’s off with John working on a case,” I told her, narrowing my eyes as Anderson scoffed at me. “ I think the better question is why are you here, and why do you think he’d be here?”

“We heard about the kid and his demon dogs,” Anderson began.

“Henry Knight, yes,” I cut him off sharply. “What about him?”

“If you’re going to have an attitude with me-“ he began, screwing his face up as he started to raise his voice.

“I will always and forever have an attitude with you, Anderson, so get used to it,” I snapped, turning to Donovan. “Why’s he got to be here?”

“We know Sherlock plans to head to Dartmoor and investigate Henry Knight’s case,” Donovan explained, ignoring Anderson and I. “And we cannot allow him to bring you with him.”

At this, I frowned and stared up at her.

“Why not? Lestrade doesn’t mind me-“

“Lestrade’s on vacation right now, and the Chief Superintendent doesn’t enjoy the thought of a high school girl tagging along on investigations.”

“Right, well, Sherlock and John have asked me to come, and I’ve always helped them before-“

“This is different, Laicee,” Donovan explained. “We cannot allow you to go with them-“

“I find it more than a little suspicious that after all this time of me assisting Sherlock and John, suddenly I’m not allowed to tag along,” I said, frowning at Donovan. “And I think it’s more than a little coincidental that the one time I’m being forbidden to go is the one time Lestrade is out of the office. I know there’s something else going on, and I’m not letting myself be pushed around like this. I’m going, and that’s final,” I informed her, setting my jaw. Anderson pushed forward and slammed his hands on my desk. The students around us jumped, and I saw Jeanette tense; I held Anderson’s irritated gaze, not even flinching.

“You have no authority to speak to us in this tone, and the final decision has already been made. We’ve been given direct orders to detain you until Sherlock and Dr. Watson get back, and I plan to do just that.”

As he said the last word, he reached out and grabbed my arm roughly, jerking me out of my seat. I began to struggle as Donovan let out a heavy sigh.

“Anderson you get your hands off me before you find my pencil shoved up your ass,” I snarled, trying to get out of his hold. His hand tightened, and I saw him grab his cuffs from his belt.

“Laicee Bennett, you are being detained by request of the Chief Superintendent. You will be taken into custody and held in a secure location until further notice.”

As Anderson began to turn me around to cuff me, I heard the door open again.

“Unless you wish to find yourself handcuffed to the train tracks tomorrow morning, Anderson, I highly suggest you remove your hands from Laicee and learn to keep your useless fingers to yourself,” Sherlock ordered, sauntering towards us with John right behind him. The girls in the room exploded into squeals, and Donovan dropped her face into her hands.

“Oh my god, it’s Sherlock! Sherlock and Dr. Watson! It’s really Sherlock Holmes!” one of the girls cried as she joined her friends in fangirling over my rescue brigade.

“Sherlock, they’re going to detain me,” I said quickly, continuing to struggle against Anderson. Sherlock’s eyes fell on me, and I saw his jaw tense.

“You will not be taking her anywhere, is that clear?” Sherlock began, his voice low and furious.

“You really have no authority on the matter-“ Anderson began to argue; Sherlock interjected immediately.

“So long as Laicee is concerned, Anderson, I will always have authority over you. I will do whatever I need to in order to make sure she is okay, and the sooner you learn that, the better.”