Shadows of the Past (BBC Sherlock) -1-

18. A Damn Good Actor

"As if you aren't in enough trouble already with the law," I said as we found Kitty Riley's place. "Breaking and entering isn't going to help."

"I'm already a fugitive, what does it matter, Rachel?" Sherlock sassed me. "Now hand me a hairpin."

"What makes you think I have one on me?"

"You're a woman."

I made an annoyed noise at him. "I'll see if I have one." I began rummaging through my pants pockets. "But I doubt I—" I stopped midsentence as I found a cold metal touch my fingertips. "I swear I didn't know it was in there." I handed Sherlock the pin.

Sherlock picked the lock to Kitty's apartment. We walked blindly into darkness. I felt the wall, hoping to find a light switch somewhere.

"No, no lights," Sherlock scolded me.

"You don't know what she's got on this floor!" I retorted. "It could be a minefield."

"Stop over exaggerating, Rachel. Women..." Even though it was dark, I knew Sherlock was shaking his head.

"Stop bashing my gender."

"Found a sofa," John called. I heard him plop onto one of the cushions; Sherlock had to do the same since they were still handcuffed together. I stumbled in the dark, away from the door. I bumped into the arm of the couch. I put my hands out, waving them in front of me so they could hit things first before my face did.

It wasn't long before I found a chair. Relieved, I sat in it.

"So now we wait," I mused, crossing my legs. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Four months ago I was here so I could find my dad. Four months later, I'm running off with a fugitive." I laughed dryly.

We didn't have to wait long for Kitty. Before I knew it, I could hear faint footsteps. They stopped, and then the door creaked as it was pushed open. I squinted as Kitty flicked the lights on. The first thing she noticed was that she had visitors.

"Too late to go on the record?" Sherlock drawled.

"How did you—?"
"That doesn't matter," I said simply. "We came here to talk."

"And who are you?" She directed the question at me.

"That doesn't matter, either."

Kitty adjusted to having three unexpected guests in her home. I ousted myself out of the chair so she could sit; all the while I shot daggers at her.

Sherlock and John removed themselves from the couch. I could hear Sherlock picking the lock on the handcuffs with the hairpin I gave him. I sat on the arm of the couch closest to Kitty.

"Congratulations," Sherlock said stiffly. "The truth about Sherlock Holmes." My eyes flickered to him long enough to see him pass John my hairpin. He then proceeded to do what he did best: pace in front of Kitty. "The scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo!"

"I gave you your opportunity," Kitty sang. "I wanted to be on your side, remember?"

"When did she approach you?" I asked.

"That's not important," Kitty snapped at me. I clasped my hands together in my lap. Her attention went back to Sherlock. "You turned me down, so..."

"And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans," Sherlock butted in. "How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?" Kitty shook her head, not willing to give any information.