It was almost Christmas,
Mrs. Hudson hoped that Anne could move back to Baker Street before Christmas so that everyone could spend Christmas together.
Although even if Anne didn't move back, she would still go to Baker Street to spend Christmas, she didn't refuse,
She happily agreed.
Originally, Mrs. Hudson refused to collect Anne's rent, but Anne insisted. In the end, the two of them agreed on a reasonable amount.
But before Anne officially moved,
A small accident happened.
On this day,
Anne rested,
She woke up later than usual in the morning. After her morning run, she carried her packed coffee and breakfast to 221B.
The cold morning wind dried the thin layer of sweat on her body,
Anne sneezed loudly. She muttered in her heart,
Please don't catch a cold.
The door to the living room on the second floor was closed. Anne took out her phone and looked at it. It was already nine o'clock,
Could it be that she hadn't woken up yet.
She was hesitating at the door when the door was suddenly pulled open from the inside.
Anne raised her head and was shocked.
Shylock glanced at her condescendingly.
"Come in."
He didn't care about how shocked the person outside the door was,
Mr. Holmes had already turned around and entered the house.
Anne paused at the door for a full ten seconds,
Until the person inside turned to look at her again.
She coughed lightly,
Anne calmed her mind,
Then she walked in.
Shylock sat at the desk and turned on the computer,
He reached out a large palm to Anne. "Coffee."
Anne looked at the bare arm that slid out from under the blanket,
She placed a cup of coffee in his hand.
"... Why are you..,
Not wearing clothes? "
After a while, Anne couldn't help but ask in a low voice.
Shylock yawned listlessly and lowered his head to drink his coffee.
He said lightly, "I don't want to wear it."
... I don't want to wear it.
It was really a willful reason.
Most of the time, Anne had seen him dressed in a suit, looking cold and arrogant. Although she had seen him wearing a nightgown twice, at least he was fully clothed … but now …
Anne's eyes kept darting around the living room, but she didn't dare to stay on him for too long.
After looking around, he thought of something and asked, "Where's John?"
Shylock said, "Here."
Anne lowered her head and saw Dr. Watson in the video call.
"Hello, John." Anne leaned in front of the screen and saw that Watson's background was a large field of grass.
"Did he go to investigate a case?" Anne asked Shylock.
"Yes, a small case that isn't worth me walking out of my apartment."
Well, as a fan who had watched the drama countless times, Anne had a rough idea of what the case was.
Shylock suddenly turned to look at her and narrowed his eyes. There was even a hint of sleepiness in his gray-green eyes.
Anne was leaning in front of the computer. When they turned to look at each other, Anne suddenly realized that they were a little too close to each other.
She subconsciously looked down and then … uh, she saw his exposed neck and collarbone. Then, she couldn't help but slide her eyes down his neck …
Shylock didn't seem to notice and let her look.
"You already know, don't you?" he said.
Anne was still confused. "What?"
"This case."
Anne came back to her senses and looked back at his face with difficulty.
She smiled and said, "Yes." Her voice was soft and soft.
Anne was no longer worried that he would pry into this secret of hers. Even if he asked, Anne would tell him without reservation. But it was strange that after they came back from the 19th century, Shylock didn't ask anymore.
Just like now, he only looked at her for a while, then suddenly reached out and gently pinched her chin with his cold fingers.
Her cheeks were white, and her delicate skin had the smoothness of a young girl.
Shylock pinched her chin and pulled her gaze down to his chest again. He said proudly, "You can continue watching."
Anne blushed from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.
Dr. Watson's helpless and restrained voice suddenly came from the computer. "You two know that I can see and hear from here, right?"
Anne immediately retreated from the screen with a red face.
Shylock glanced at her indifferently, turned his head, and began to understand the crime scene through the video.
Anne didn't disturb him and quietly walked to the window.
The weather was getting colder and it had been gloomy for a few days. Would it snow?
If she remembered correctly, the "Queen of Abuse" should be the one who appeared after this case.
The only woman who had defeated Sherlock Holmes — "that woman".
Anne turned around and looked at Shylock who was sitting in front of the computer.
He was learning about the case while effortlessly bickering with Watson.
Anne was hit by his soft, messy curly hair and pursed lips, and her heart instantly softened.
But why did such a good Shylock like her?
What was there to like about her?
Or should she first ask if he liked her?
He treated her differently, and from time to time, there were intimate actions and hugs. He liked her … even if he was about to meet the woman he admired and looked at differently …
Anne was so focused that she didn't hear the doorbell downstairs. Shylock didn't care at all.
Mrs. Hudson opened the door, and two tall men in suits came up.
Shylock's sharp observation skills immediately let him know who the people in front of him were and where they were taking him.
Although Anne didn't have a high IQ, she had spoilers. So she also knew who the people in front of her were and where they were taking Shylock.
One of the tall men in a suit suddenly turned to Anne and said meticulously, "Miss Deboer, if you want, you can go with Mr. Holmes."
If she wanted … did that mean she could refuse?
"Of course," Shylock had already answered for her. "Of course she will go with me."
But …
Anne lowered her head, looked at the tip of her shoes, and said softly, "I don't want to go."
She didn't want to go …
Shylock frowned and looked at her.
"I have to go to work later."
Shylock was expressionless. "Liar."
Oh, she forgot that she shouldn't lie in front of him. He would see through her.
Anne pursed her lips. "Anyway, I don't want to go."
"Okay." Shylock looked away. "Up to you."
Anne followed them downstairs. She went back to the restaurant, and Shylock went to Buckingham Palace.
Mr. Holmes still stubbornly refused to put on clothes and walked out of the apartment door wrapped in a white sheet.
Before he got into the car, Anne stopped him.
"Shylock …"
He turned back with a cold expression.
"Can you not …" Anne was a little offended. She wanted to say, can you not look at that naked woman …
But she stopped halfway, shook her head with a smile, and changed her words. "Say hello to Mr. Mcauliffe for me."
The agent in the suit next to her glanced at her. They didn't mention where they were going, nor did they say who invited them.
Shylock's gaze was fixed on her face for a few seconds, as if he was thinking about her abnormality. Then, he lowered his voice and leaned over to get into the car. Like a tightly wrapped mummy, the only thing that was exposed was his well-defined face, fair and vivid.
Looking at the car that disappeared at the end of the line of sight in the blink of an eye, Anne stomped her feet that were numb from the cold. She suddenly remembered that he hadn't eaten breakfast yet.
She stood at the door of the apartment for a while, then Anne turned around and slowly walked in the direction of the restaurant.
Her throat was a little dry and painful. This was not a good sign. Every winter, with her weak body, she would catch several colds. It seemed that a few days of morning exercise was not enough to change the "bad habits" left over from many years.
Anne first went to the pharmacy to buy cold medicine, then returned to her apartment and swallowed two small pills. Prevention was better than cure. She hoped that her positive attitude could drive the cold virus away in advance. Otherwise, it would be too miserable to fall sick alone in a foreign country.
She sat on the sofa in the living room for a moment, looked down and saw a paper box by her feet.
Anne stretched out her leg and gently kicked it.
The box contained the things she had packed for the past two days, and there was another one in the bedroom. It was the things she had packed in advance and was preparing to move.
The paper box moved a centimeter away from her kick. She kicked it again and it moved a little further away. She kicked it until her toes couldn't reach it.
Maybe after these two days, she wouldn't have to move anymore …
Anne sighed and told herself that this kind of thinking was not only stupid, but also meaningless.
But she couldn't control it.
She knew very well that this was because of her inferiority complex.
It was also because he was Sherlock Holmes. A person that everyone thought was cut off from love.
Even if other people's judgment of him was wrong. But the person who was special to him, why was she the one?
Anne knew that she was now at a dead end. She didn't want to sink deeper into negative emotions, so she simply stood up and went downstairs to the restaurant to help.
It was almost lunchtime and the restaurant was very busy. Anne had a smile on her face as she methodically ordered and delivered food to each table.
She could be a good waitress in a restaurant, but what else could she do?
Anne didn't discriminate against this job. On the contrary, she respected it and always tried her best. But, was she going to be a waitress in a restaurant for the rest of her life?
She had never mentioned to anyone that she actually wanted to go to school.
Previously, when Anne used Shylock's computer to browse the web at 221B, she accidentally saw a few photos of the university campus — well, it wasn't by accident. She deliberately searched for it.
At that moment, Anne was stunned.
She hadn't gone to university yet.
At her age, she should have completed her studies in university.
However, strictly speaking, she wasn't even a legal British citizen because she didn't have any documents to prove her identity. Not to mention going to school.
It was good enough that she wasn't arrested as an "illegal resident" and sent out of the British territory.
She didn't have a degree, and she didn't have the ability to make a living. Before this job, she had never earned a penny with her own hands in both her lifetimes.
Look, what did she have that made others like her?
Anne closed her eyes helplessly. After a round of thinking, her thoughts returned to the original point. Could it be that he couldn't come out of this dead end?!
The phone on the bar table rang. Anne took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
"Hello, this is …" Her voice had returned to its usual gentle and polite tone.
It was a customer who ordered takeout.
Their restaurant also provided takeout services. Usually, another young man and Billy would take turns to deliver the food.
Anne looked back and glanced at Billy who was busy. She reached out and picked up the takeout box.
…
Following the address, Anne came to a house and pressed the doorbell.
After waiting for two minutes, there was no response.
Anne lowered her head and checked the address again. After making sure that she didn't make a mistake, she raised her hand and pressed the doorbell again.
She didn't know that a pair of eyes were watching her with interest from behind the door.
This was a high-end residential area and it was very quiet.
After waiting patiently for another two minutes, there was finally a response this time.
"Hello?" A woman's voice came from the video phone at the door.
Anne stepped back slightly at the door so that the person inside could see her more clearly.
"I'm here to deliver food." Anne raised the takeout box in her hand.
The door opened. Anne pushed the door open and entered. A young woman with brown hair stood at the entrance. She was wearing a white shirt and looked like a maid.
Anne handed the takeout box to her, but the brown-haired woman didn't take it.
"Please put it in the living room for me." The woman pointed. She asked again, "How much is it?"
Anne hesitated for a moment, but the woman had already turned and walked to the living room.
Anne had no choice but to follow.
This was a Victorian-style house. The interior decoration was very luxurious and classical. But compared to the Hôtel de Boer and the Rosings Garden, it was still a far cry. It wasn't even half the size of the Netherfield Garden.
Anne put the takeout box on the table in the living room.
The brown-haired woman let her sit on the sofa for a while while she went to collect the meal.
Anne nodded and sat quietly on the sofa to wait.
After a while, a voice came from outside the living room.
"Sorry, Kate said that she hasn't paid you yet. 85 pounds, right? "
It was also a woman's voice. Steady and elegant. Anne guessed that it was the owner of this house.
The voice stopped outside the door.
Anne turned her head. "Yes, 8 …"
Her voice seemed to have been cut off by something and stopped abruptly.
She couldn't be blamed. Anyone who saw a naked body suddenly appear in front of them without warning would probably be shocked to the point of losing their voice. Even if the other party was of the same sex.
…
So, when Shylock finished his daily acting and perfectly portrayed an innocent victim of robbery and successfully entered the house with Watson, this was the scene they saw:
A completely naked woman pressed a thin and weak girl on a champagne-colored sofa. The girl had a completely bewildered expression on her face. Some of her blonde hair was scattered and stuck to her flushed cheeks. The woman who was pressing down on her was gently and teasingly helping her tuck her hair behind her small ear.
Mr. Sherlock Holmes's face instantly darkened.
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