Now, Anita was a hard worker. Hardly called sick and always showed up for her shifts. Over the many years that Anita worked at the Scotland Yard, she had accumulated a lot of vacation and sick days. And now she had a favor to ask of Lestrade. Usually you had to give some sort of notice to cash in those days, but Anita didn't exactly have the time. Lestrade of course agreed to letting Anita go, he had no real reason for her to stay.
After a quick stop at her flat to pack, Anita was now helping John carry his things out to the cab. Her bags were already in the car, courtesy of Sherlock. Sherlock was holding open the door of a cab for the pair when they started to hear shouting from Speedy's cafe. Anita peeked through the window to see Mrs. Hudson going off on Mr. Chatterjee.
"...cruise together. You had no intention of taking me on it..." she shouted and then threw something at the door and it bounced, heavily, off the glass. John recoiled at this while Anita let out a low whistle, promising to never piss Mrs. Hudson off.
"Oh! Looks like Mrs. Hudson finally got to the wife in Doncaster," John said.
"Yeah, I'm glad I'm not that guy," Anita replied.
"Wait til she finds out about the one in Islamabad," Sherlock commented and Anita and John snickered.
"Well, then, we definitely need to get out of here," Anita said as they started to climb into the cab. John sat next to the left window, Anita sat in the middle, and Sherlock sat to her right.
"Paddington Station, please," Sherlock told the driver.
"Watch your step," Sherlock said as he held a hand out to Anita to help her up onto a large stone outcrop. Anita took his hand and he pulled her up the rest of the way. Anita and the boys arrived at Dartmoor and decided to look around the landscape. John had opted to remain on the ground, while Anita and Sherlock were determined to climb the rock.
"Thank you," Anita told him once they reached the top. They held each other's hands a moment longer than most people would, before letting go. He hummed, glancing sideways at her. He liked the way the wind blew through her hair, making it ruffle and fluff a bit. He thought she looked absolutely adorable, even when the rare strand and blew into her face and she had to push it away.
As the pair walked towards the edge, John stood at the foot of the stone and was looking at a map. He pointed ahead of himself at a large array of buildings in the distance.
"There's Baskerville." Then he turned and pointed behind him.
"That's Grimpen Village," he said, then turned back and looked ahead of himself again, checking the map for the name of the heavily wooded area to the left of the Baskerville complex.
"So that must be...yeah, it's Dewer's Hollow," John stated. Sherlock pointed to an area in between the complex and the Hollow.
"What's that?" John lifted the binoculars, strapped around his neck, and looked closer at the fencing and the warning signs.
"Minefield? Technically, Baskerville's an army base, so I guess they've always been keen to keep people out," John said.
"Clearly," Anita commented.
Later, Sherlock drove them to the Grimpen Village and pulled into the car park of the Cross Keys Inn. Anita, John, and Sherlock got out of the car and walked towards the entrance of the pub, where a young man was talking to a group of tourists.
"Three times a day, tell your friends. Tell anyone! Don't be strangers, and remember...stay away from the moor at night if you value your lives!" the guy said as the trio walked past him. Anita didn't hear a word of what he said though. She had, unfortunately, zeroed in on a father and his daughter. The girl couldn't have been older than five and Anita's heart clenched. They were clearly close, the young girl's father was running his hand through his daughter's ponytail. Which was something Anita's father did all the time, even when she was in college. Anita had to pull her gaze away before she started to cry.
Sherlock was pulling his overcoat around him as he walked towards the pub with the two of them, then he popped his collar up. Anita and John looked at him curiously.
"I'm cold," Sherlock told them, trying to look nonchalant. Sherlock had noticed Anita's attention on the father and daughter, but thought it best not to bring it up. Yet.
As the trio entered the pub, Anita and John went to the bar to check in while Sherlock prowled around.
"Hello, checking in for Holmes," Anita said with a smile as she and John reached the bar. The barman, Gary, turned around and pulled two keys down. Anita's head tilted slightly, but waited to get the full story before she made assumptions.
"Here you two go. One single room and one double," Gary said, holding the keys out. John tried to cover his smirk as Anita cleared her throat.
"Oh, um, we should have three singles," Anita told him, hoping it was a mistake. Gary looked down at his list, double checking. He turned back to her, shaking his head gently.
"No, it says right here: one single room and one double room." Gary held the keys out to the pair and Anita grumbled as she pulled out her wallet and paid him. John took the keys and held the double room out to her with a smirk.
"Oh, no, no, no. I get the single because I'm the only girl," Anita argued as she reached for the single key. John pulled it back, and shook his head.
"Nope. I'm not sharing a room with him."
"You live with him!" Anita argued, still attempting to get the single key.
"You went to college with him!" John argued back. If getting Anita and Sherlock to share a room was the last thing John did, he would be very very proud of his life.
"So?!" Anita said, though she knew her argument was flimsy. John raised an eyebrow at her and she groaned and ripped the double key out of his hand, starting to describe him in a colorful display of language.
John then turned to Gary and ordered a drink in triumph. He would never, ever tell anyone, but when Sherlock asked him to call and get them rooms he couldn't have been more overjoyed. They did have three singles open, but John saw the double and couldn't resist.
As Gary was getting John's drink, Anita and John noticed a pile of receipts and invoices which have been punched into a spike. John pointed at the labeled Undershaw Meat Supplies. Anita nodded and John, quickly, reached out and ripped it from the spike and put it in his pocket as Gary came back with his drink. John paid him and Gary handed him his change.
"There you go," Gary said.
"I couldn't help noticing on the map of the moor: a skull and crossbones," John commented to Gary.
"Oh that, aye," Gary said.
"Pirates?!" John joked.
"Eh, no, no. The Great Grimpen Minefield, they call it," Gary explained.
"Oh, right," John said.
"It's not what you think. It's the Baskerville testing site. It's been going for eighty odd years. I'm not sure anyone really knows what's there anymore," Gary said as Anita looked over and saw Sherlock was still walking around, and now seemed to find something of interest at one of the tables.
"Explosives?" John questioned.
"Oh, not just explosives. Break into that place and, if you're lucky, you just get blown up, so they say...in case you're planning on a nice wee stroll," Gary said. Sherlock then lost interest at the table and wandered off. Anita blushed, having realized she had to tell Sherlock that they were sharing a room. John shot her a look before turning back to Gary.
"I'll remember," John told him.
"Aye. No, it buggers up tourism a bit, so thank God for the demon hound! Did you two see that show, that documentary?" Gary asked.
"Quite recently, yeah," Anita told him, slowly going back to her normal shade.
"Aye, God bless Henry Knight and his monster from Hell," Gary commented.
"Ever seen it- the hound?" Anita asked him.
"Me? No," Gary responded, then he pointed out the door past Sherlock, where the young man from earlier was outside talking on his phone.
"Fletcher has. He runs the walks- the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He's seen it," Gary said as Anita turned and started to walk out the door towards Fletcher.
Sherlock fell into line with Anita and she noticed there was a copy of the Racing Post in his pocket. Sherlock looked down at her.
"Wait for my signal." And he walked over to the table that Flecter was standing at. Anita just stood where she stopped and looked around awkwardly.
"Mind if I join you?" Sherlock asked him. Fletcher shrugged and gestured to the table. Sherlock sat down on the bench opposite Fletcher.
"It's not true, is it? You haven't actually seen this...hound thing," Sherlock said as he grinned in a friendly way. Fletcher looked over at him suspiciously.
"You from the papers?" he questioned.
"No, nothing like that. Just curious. Have you seen it?" Sherlock asked.
"Maybe," Fletcher replied, vaguely.
"Got any proof?" Sherlock pushed.
"Why would I tell you if I did? 'Scuse me," Fletcher said as Sherlock, behind his back, gestured for Anita to come over. Anita strolled over and sat beside him.
"Bet's off, Anita, sorry," Sherlock said. Anita forced a small frown onto her face.
"Aww, really?"
"Bet?" Fletcher asked as Sherlock looked down at his watch.
"My plan needs darkness. Reckon we've got another half an hour of light-" Sherlock said as he looked up at the sky.
"Wait, wait. What bet?" Fletcher asked.
"Oh, I bet Anita here fifty quid that you couldn't prove you'd seen the hound," Sherlock told him.
"Yeah, the guy in the pub said you could," Anita chimed in, gesturing at the pub with her hand. Fletcher smiled and pointed at Sherlock.
"Well, you're gonna lose your money, mate,"
"Yeah?" Sherlock asked.
"Yeah. I've seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow. It was foggy, mind- couldn't make much out," Fletcher explained with a smirk.
"I see. No witnesses, I suppose," Sherlock commented.
"No, but-" Fletcher tried to defend but Sherlock cut him off.
"Never are."
"Wait...there," Fletcher said as he turned his phone around to show the duo a photograph. Anita and Sherlock looked at the photo, which showed a dark furred four legged something in the distance, but with no scale among the surrounding vegetation, it made it impossible to tell the size or species of the animal. Sherlock snorted at it and if Anita really had a bet with him, she would have handed the fifty quid to him.
"Is that it? It's not exactly proof, is it?" Sherlock said before turning to Anita.
"Sorry, dear. I win," he said and Anita's stomach was suddenly a gymnast training for the Olympics. She couldn't stop the blush that rose to her checks at the pet name, though she was sure he meant it in a platonic way.
"Wait, wait. That's not all. People don't like going up there, you know- to the Hollow. Gives them a bad sort of feeling," Fletcher said.
"Ooh! Is it haunted?! Is that supposed to convince me?" Sherlock questioned. He was still recovering from the pet name he called Anita. It had just slipped out, he didn't think about it until afterwards. Though, her blush was a good sign, right?
"Nah, don't be stupid, nothing like that, but I reckon there is something out there- something from Baskerville, escaped," he said.
"A clone, a super-dog?!" Sherlock asked, trying to hold back a laugh.
"Maybe. God knows what they've been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn't trust 'em as far as I could spit," Fletcher replied.
"Is that the best you've got?" Sherlock pushed, nodding to the photograph on his phone. Fletcher hesitates for a moment, then speaks reluctantly, lowering his voice.
"I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishin' but he never showed up- well, not til late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. 'I've seen things today, Fletch.' he said, 'that I never wanna see again. Terrible things.' He'd been sent to some secret Army place- Porton Down, maybe; maybe Baskerville, or somewhere else. In the labs there- the really secret labs, he said he'd seen...terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said, dogs...dogs the size of horses," Fletcher said as he reached into his bag and pulled out a concrete cast of a dog's paw print, which was about six inches long from the tip of the claws to the back of the pad. Sherlock and Anita stared at it in surprise.
"We did say fifty?" Anita asked, not taking her eyes away from the concrete cast. Fletcher smiled triumphantly as Sherlock reached into his wallet and handed her a fifty pound note. Anita turned to Fletcher with a smile.
"Thanks." The duo stood up and walked off. Anita looked up at him and decided to finally break the news to him.
"We're sharing a room," Anita said, trying to be nonchalant about it. Sherlock tripped on seemingly nothing, nearly landing face first on the ground but was able to stabilize himself. Anita sent him a worried look as he straightened up and cleared his throat.
"Okay." And he walked off. On the inside, he was freaking out though. Sleeping together on a couch was one thing, but sharing bed? Sherlock was sure he was going to combust. Anita quickly caught up to him.
"You alright?" she asked, trying to stop herself from giggling. Sherlock nodded as his cheeks tinted a shade redder.
author's note !
OMG!!! Are you guys excited for Spider-Man No Way Home??? Because I am! I really can't wait to see the role that Doctor Strange will play in that movie! (Also, Benedict looks super hot but that's not really the point ;) ) Anyways, I know I'm probably about three weeks late on this chapter but in my defense school just started where I live and it has been a pain in my ass. So, here is this long awaited chapter and I hope to get into a more regular posting schedule. I know, I know, I say that a lot but I mean it this time! I'll set like a notification on my phone or something. Okay, promise to see you guys next week :)