[COMPLETE] ??? ???? ?? ??? ??????「Sherlock」

007; You Can Do Better Than Him

They were just out the door when she paused to adjust her boots, snowflakes fluttering around her in intricate patterns, landing upon the earth in fluffy clusters. While out on the town with her aunt, she had ducked inside of a shop with her, and while browsing, Martha Hudson had purchased her a beautiful double-breasted slim-waisted coat, pairing it along with a scarlet scarf she had knitted while in the hospital. It was the sweetest thing anyone had done for her in a long time— well, aside from how Mr. Holmes had saved her life. She promised to pay her back through scrubbing and cleaning, refusing to let her do any handiwork around the house. Julia was eternally grateful for her aunt. Just as she brought her head up to speak to Elliot, the gentleman swept down and pressed a fleeting kiss to the side of her face, earning a shy little blink. "What was that for?" she asked bashfully, cupping her cheek with her slender fingers.

Elliot beamed down at her and offered a wink, followed by his arm. Slithering her hand up into the crook of his limb, the two strolled back to Bartholomew's, where she sent him off with a flick of his nose and a hug, although being careful because of how sore she still was. She had been left with tiny little cuts all over her arms after the incident, and now it was painful to simply lift her arms. After parting with the scientist, she turned and walked herself down along the streets of London, heading for home. She did not get far before she got a call from her aunt Martha. Pulling her phone out of her coat pocket, the young woman hit the green glowing talk button and brought the speaker to her ear.

"Hello auntie, just on my way home," she said softly. "I was out with Elliot again."

The voice was most certainly not her aunt's. "I would very much appreciate it if you would answer my calls."

 Sherlock. Her heart capered within her chest: Julia had not heard from him in a while. She drew the phone screen away from her face and hit the power button, revealing that her phone had been on silent. She had nearly twelve missed calls and three text messages.

"Sherl–"

"Be at the station in fifteen minutes, no less," he ordered through the phone, then hung up. The call dropped and Julia gawked, slowing down and glowering at her screen. A growl grew within her throat and she gritted her teeth, reading quickly through the messages.

Meet me at Nando's. Lestrade wants
to discuss the case - S.H

(12/07/11, 10:19AM)

Soon would be preferable. - S.H

(12/07/11, 10:40AM)

Julia, are you still asleep? - S.H

(12/07/11, 11:34AM)

No, she had not been asleep. She had made plans to meet with Elliot the day before, and hadn't thought to take her phone off silent after she had gotten up that morning. Julia knew that Sherlock was demanding and arrogant, but she had never heard him this frustrated. The rosette turned, looked both ways and dashed across the street, ignoring how cars honked at her. Finally, she hailed down the nearest cab and began to call her aunt back. This time, it was she who picked up, not the irate detective. "What on earth was that? Who does he think he is?"

"Oh dear. You two are having a quarrel I see!"

"Yes, of course we are! He called me five times on his phone, and then seven on your own!" Getting inside the cab, she barked at him to drive to the police station, saying it was an emergency and to put it on Sherlock Holmes' tab. Finally, she buckled up her seat belt. "Oh! I'm going to skin that man! Did you not tell him that I went out?"

Her aunt stammered on the other end of the phone. "Well, yes dear, but he refused to listen, you see? You know how Sherlock gets..."

Glowering out the window, she tapped her fingernail against her crossed arm. Here she was, her face and hair done up for her little get-together with Elliot, completely unprepared to visit such a respectable place such as the station. Why on earth was he asking her to join him anyway? Could John not use his cane again? She huffed. "I'm sorry for yelling, auntie," she apologized eventually. "It's not you, it's just him. He's so damn frustrating..."