Missing a Heart

“I know that look, Arwen Holmes,” Mycroft scolded. “What foolish thing have you done now?”
“None of your bloody business, Daddy Dearest,” she smirked.
“Arwen!”
She held up her hand to silence Mycroft again, receiving another text. “Crime scene. Lestraude needs me.” She slipped the phone back into the coat pocket and clapped her hands together. “So! If no one needs me, I’ll be on my way.” She slid a sidelong glance at Dean before making her way out the door down the street, leaving everyone slightly stunned and silent.
The air is crisp and cold, biting at Arwen’s nose. Many people on the street are bundled up, homemade scarves and lovingly knitted sweaters keeping them warm. She fights the steady stream of people, keeping to herself when she’s pulled out of her thoughts by a loud voice calling out to her.
“Arwen! Wait up!” Dean panted. For such a small girl, she could move fast.
Arwen turned, looking back for the source of the shout, smirking when she saw Dean making his way past the other Londoners. “Something I can help you with Dean?”
He made a face at her before falling into step beside her. “Cas brought you there, and then just let you leave for no reason. Cas doesn’t just zap people around for no reason. What’d he tell you?”
“What do you care?” She countered, a bit wary.
“Cas is my guardian angel, and he wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t somehow vital to helping me or something. So obviously you know something. Maybe it’s something about this case.”
Furrowing her brow, she gave Dean an inquisitive glance. “What case?”
Dean grinned. “I know something you don’t know,” he singsonged before continuing. “The case about the girls on that back road in the country? A bunch of chicks have had their hearts ripped out by a freaky spirit. Well, I mean we burned the sonnuvabitch, but I just feel like ever since we ran into that Lana chick, everything’s been off.”
“Yes, she did seem a bit strange,” Arwen agreed, thinking hard. “Her mannerisms aren’t modern. She’s very proper, and timid. I mean, she could have been brought up by good, wealthy parents who wanted her to be a lady or something, but she didn’t come from wealth, I can tell.”
“How can you tell?”
Arwen sighed. “I... Notice things about people. Sherlock taught me how. I know what scratches on a watch indicate if someone is an alcoholic or not, or what someone’s childhood was like, reasons for phobias, just from looking at someone’s appearance. It’s so natural to me that I don’t even think about it; it kind of just.... Happens. But it helps catch killers, and keeps me entertained, so I help the police.” She bit her lip, looking around. “I guess you could say the world is like a big puzzle to me, one I’m always trying to work out. Some people are easy puzzles to solve, but others, they’re much more difficult and harder to work out, and that’s where I come in to help every bumbling idiot in the Scotland Yard figure it out.”
Dean nodded. “So you’re a genius, then?”
She chuckled, flushing a bit. “I guess you could say that, yes.”
He nodded, smiling a bit. “I’ve never met a genius before.”
“Wanna see me in action?” Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Hell yeah!”

“Okay, one condition: The only other males Anderson has seen me with is John and Sherlock, and he’s always saying I’m going to die alone and whatnot. Doesn’t really bother me, but I want to throw him a little. Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Wait, what?” Dean chuckled nervously. “Look, I don’t want to get in the way of an ex or something-”
Arwen made a face like she was about to puke. “Anderson? And me? No. No way in the burning fires of hell would we ever date. He’s an idiot and has this....” She gestured to her face, “Awkward beard that doesn’t match his hair color- which he dyes, mind you- and just. No.”
Dean shrugged. He’d slept with random girls. Pretending to be a random girl’s boyfriend is no sweat. “Well, um, alright I guess.”
“Good.” She held her hand out expectantly.
“What?” Dean asked, confused.
“Take my hand! We’re almost there!”
“Oh, right.” Dean took her small hand in his, and it was a surprisingly comfortable fit. She rolled her eyes at him and chuckled a little, steering him to the crime scene.
Blood was spattered all over the walls, police tape making it difficult to maneuver around. Arwen strutted in confidently, Dean following close behind her and glued to her side.
Lestraude grinned at her when she walked past. “Ah, good Arwen!”
She grinned, winking at him. “Thanks Greg. Where is Anderson?”
“Over there, talking with Sally.”
Arwen nodded, taking Dean with her. While she was busy steering the two of them around, Dean was busy taking in the scenery. It’s not like he hadn’t seen something so gruesome before, but the fact that she wasn’t batting an eye at it seemed a bit strange. Who the hell wouldn’t be at least slightly concerned by all this blood? And was that the smell of.... Sulfur?
“Good morning Anderson,” Arwen greeted, fake sweetness in her voice. “It appears you and Sally had a nice night, judging by the state of her knees.” She grinned, squeezing Dean’s hand.
Anderson rolled his eyes and huffed, his annoyance turning to shock when he saw Dean. “What the hell?”
“This is my boyfriend, Dean Winchester.”
“Get out while you can,” Anderson advised, but Dean laughed.
“She’s a bit of a handful, but I like her. She’s kinda spicy.” He leaned over and kissed her on the head. “She’s showing me around today.”
Anderson scoffed, angrily ripping off his rubber gloves. “And part of the tour involved a murder scene?”
“Some people are interested in crime and science, Anderson. Not just antisocial freaks like you.”
“And the pot calls the kettle black,” he murmured under his breath.
Arwen turned to Dean and grinned widely, almost like she was celebrating a victory. Dean smiled back. He felt a bit out of place in this room full of death and cops, but he couldn’t help but return her gesture.