No Vacancy at 221c: A BBC Sherlock Fanfic

Surprise Mr. Watson

Throwing a trench coat around her lean arms, Celestia laughed at how easily she was running into the possibility of danger. Something had changed, clicked, almost like a puzzle piece within her. She had purpose, friends, someone she cared for, respect. When she thought of how fortunate she was to have ended up on Baker Street, the woman could always feel a brilliant smile spread warmly across her cheeks. Celestia liked that feeling. The joy of smiling just for herself, just for the sheer enjoyment of it, not to please or set anyone at ease, but true, honest happiness.

John saw the grin that now lit her face and smiled to himself. Her speech was always cheery, easy flowing, graceful and eager to please, but when no one appeared to be paying her any attention her face normally fell. The natural set of her mouth was a sorrowful downward slant, instinctive it seemed, but as he had encountered her alone with Sherlock she seemed like a different person. Not so perfectly polite and poised, but comfortable, flawed. Then there was the thing that made the doctor feel as if these two might actually work well for each other.

When they were together they seemed almost vulnerable. Two strong-willed people who seldom showed their true colors seemed to open up. John had seen glimpses of Sherlock like this in the past, but never to anyone else. He was so different on the inside. John had realized long before why he was so cold; he had to be. For some reason, Sherlock had it in his mind that considering the things everyone said against him and showing the pain it caused him would make their lies true.

Indifference was just a mask. He lied over and over and over, blocking out the world and convincing himself it didn't matter. Some might have found him rude or overconfident, and maybe he was. But when you spend your life pushing people away because you think your unwanted, always putting others down just to appear strong, and being treated like an idiot by everyone else, then what respect do you owe the world?

John shook his head as they climbed into a cab one by one. As much as he wanted to help Sherlock, there wasn't much he could do. His absence itself seemed to have punched holes in their relationship.

But John had learned. This man was loyal, caring, strong, brilliant, humble, trustworthy... You just had to show him he actually mattered. There was no one like him, and that's probably why everyone passed him over.

Appreciation, respect, everyone deserves them, so why do the most amazing people never seem to have enough? John sincerely hoped that Celestia could help Sherlock. He felt horrible, leaving him alone sometimes. Molly, he had thought, might work out, but nothing had ever presented itself.

Celestia had actually worried John when she first came. A repeat of Irene Adler was not what Sherlock needed. She seemed nice enough, though, and John had found himself warming up to her. Amazingly enough, when the incident with Sebastian had occurred she had even agreed to stay. That's when John knew she was different.

"John.... John!" Celestia shook the man's shoulder until his neck jerked around to face her. His head had slumped inwardly against the cold window, deep in thought. She scrambled quickly out of the cab after Sherlock, leaving John to pay the cabbie.

A dark building loomed ahead in the cold, illuminated only by a few stray street lights. The windows were darkened, and no signs of internal activity were evident. "Hey, Sherlock?" Celeste turned to him, now looking up due to her lack of heels. "If we- I mean if I-" she wrung her gloved hands anxiously, "this could be it. Anything could happen in there, I mean, what if this is goodbye? Have you thought of that? Anytime we even so much as leave the flat it might be our last time. You live so dangerously." She stared down hard at her shoes with conflicted eyes.

"No one's making you do anything," his deep voice replied. She reached up and clasped her hands behind his neck.

"Yeah," she countered sadly, "but you know it's a risk I'm going to take." Their eyes met. Celestia leaned into him and Sherlock pulled her tightly into his huge arms, burying his face in her hair.

"Don't think like that. You're smart. You also happen to have an escort comprised of the world's best detective and an ex-soldier." Celestia smiled slightly against his chest. "And let me tell you he can shoot," Sherlock whispered, leaning down to reach her ear. "Don't tell him I said so of course. He's gotten me out of a few scrapes actually. Doesn't handle himself too bad considering he's almost a midget."

She pushed him back with a light shove,"That's a horrible thing to say!" Laughing as said army doctor approached, Celestia added, "I'm sorry, though. I've always been a worrier." Throwing him an apologetic smile, she shrugged, burying her hands in her pockets.

"I'm assuming you have your gun," John quizzed Sherlock as he patted his jacket pocket for assurance. "Oh, and thanks for paying the driver," he said pointedly, with a sarcatic look in Sherlock's direction. With a roll of his eyes, the detective mounted the steps to the building and opened the door. The hinges opened smoothly without a hitch; they were expected. Their footsteps echoed as they each entered the vast chamber, completely void of light. When the latch had clicked shut behind them and several moments had past, lights began to flicker on. They wrapped around the room, hugging the walls with their warm soft light. "It's a theater," remarked Celeste as the stage came in view, far off on the opposite side of the space.

"Ah, yes. That it is, and the stage is set." Sebastian Moran's voice enveloped the room, traveling and bouncing off of the vaulted ceilings. The criminal himself was no where to be seen.

The trio froze, backing closer into each other.

"Oh, I have got a surprise for you," he continued, enunciating each word. "I do hope you brought little Watson with you!" He called in a sing song. John's jaw tightened.

Celestia was busy scanning the room, but there was still no one to be seen. The only thing blocking her view was the curtain. Suddenly the huge velvet drape began to part, revealing the stage beyond. A sharp gasp escaped Celestia's lips as John screamed.

"MARY!"