#& it must've been her fault his heart gave out • victorian

[lcfthaunted]

@narrativebound sent 📚 for John Watson

She knew the doctor—of course she knew the doctor, with how closely the professor was watching his flatmate. With how closely the professor was making her watch his flatmate. Her sister obsessing over the stories the good doctor wrote didn’t help things, either. She had no high opinion of Mister Holmes, despite Mallaidh’s adoration, and her opinion of the good doctor suffered as a result. Still, the professor is not someone to say no to, and she decides it’s time to position herself a little closer to Baker Street.

Julian had offered her several stories to use in order to get closer to the doctor, but Mazie decided the best lie was the truth. It is difficult to find the doctor without the detective, but Mazie is patient, and finds the perfect window. She sends up her card identifying herself as the Dowager Baroness Tilliton, does not wait for a response before ascending to the flat. “My apologies for dropping in unannounced. But I was rather hoping for a moment of your time.”

[lcfthaunted]

“I have no need for a detective, Doctor Watson,” she answers mildly. With all the self-assured presumption of a woman comfortable with her noble title, Mazie passes him and folds easily into a waiting chair. “Your previous engagement will forgive you your tardiness when they learn you were assisting a baroness, surely?” She makes it perfectly plain she will not be leaving until she has gotten what she came for.

“You see, I know perfectly well who is extorting me and why, so there is little a man like Mister Holmes can do for me, and it is entirely out of Scotland Yard’s purview, I’m afraid. What I am in need of is a military man who might be willing to protect a damsel in distress. Your occupation as a doctor would even better cover any… odd-hour visits I might require.” She tips her head to him. “You will, of course, be handsomely compensated for your time.”

The door stands between them, his brows begin to furrow. They aren't expecting anyone, at least not to John's knowledge. Sherlock would have said, they know each other well enough now, that they can predict almost perfectly what the other will do.

Her calling card explained the situation, but it doesn't answer the question brewing in his mind. He gazed at her, taking in her features. “Couldn't this wait?” He said, an apology forming in the same breath.

“I don't think, I can consult without Mister Holmes.” He tried to smile, hoping that whatever this is can wait until they are both available. “Perhaps, tomorrow?” John offered, pulling his jacket over his shoulders. “I'm rather busy, I'm afraid.”