Fight for Me

Chapter 11

"Perhaps, but it is unlikely," Sherlock hummed as his eyes scanned over the room. "Do you always live like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Four to a room clearly meant to exceed no more than two people? Let me guess, you have a rotation of who gets to sleep on the bed?"

Lydia nodded, taking a seat on the mattress, "depending on the size, we can often fit two or three on the bed and the remaining person typically has to take the floor. Sometimes we are lucky and the room comes with a couch or chair that they can sleep in, but that only happens once in a blue moon."

"Well if you really are smuggling goods, you need to start asking for a higher cut," Sherlock mused as he walked the length of the room.

Lydia carefully watched his movements and let out a small sigh, "yeah, it's hard to keep up a life like this, but each of us have grown up seeing what is like to actually have nothing. This is our second chance and we refuse to give up on it. Like you, we've all slept in worse places."

They fell into a silence after that, but it was much more comfortable than the ones that they usually shared. Lydia's gaze fell to the carpeted floor while Sherlock's rested on her, trying desperately to see through any cracks in her mask.

Finally Sherlock spoke up, "how did you meet John? I don't really see how his parents befriended yours, especially with your mother being a junkie."

She glanced up at him as she explained, "she wasn't always as bad, she was able to hide her problem for most of her life. My father knew, of course, and tried to help her, but mum never really was able to get off of the stuff. But she was able to keep it secret. He was the one who was friendly with John's parents, he worked with his father for a while. I was always so excited to go over to the Watsons, I hadn't really had many other friends before. No one wanted to be friends with the poor kid, I reckon. John was always so nice to me, though with Harry it would depend on the day. After my father died, mum lost herself to drugs and she wouldn't let me go to the Watson's anymore, I think she wanted to keep her problem hidden from his parents."

"Can you tell me about the Rose Foundation?"

"I really don't know much about them, they help impoverished children find careers. For the five of us, that meant voice lessons and acting lessons. Occasionally we could go to dance classes, but that was the thing they seemed least concerned with. I suppose they were right to do that, it's not like we every really have a chance to do much dancing in a concert setting." She paused, noticing how Sherlock's eyes shined slight when she mentioned dancing. "Do you dance, Mr. Holmes?"

He paused, seeming to be thinking over whether or not to answer that truthfully. "It depends what kind of dance you are referring to. I'm not familiar with modern and tap, which I am sure you must be with musical theatre."

"More into classical styles?"

He nodded, "but don't tell anyone, not even John knows about my affinity for dancing."

"You're forgetting that I am secretly a criminal mastermind, Mr. Holmes. I will now collect this information to use against you later," she teased, causing Sherlock's lips to twitch upwards.

"I never said you were a mastermind," he corrected. "You're just a cog in the network, at most."

She rolled her eyes, "well you certainly know how to flatter a lady."

"I never said that you don't have the potential to be a mastermind, if that makes you feel any better."

Lydia stood from her spot and walked over to Sherlock, "not really, but I think I know a way for you to make it up to me."

"I wasn't aware that I felt any remorse for insulting you," he retorted, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Nonetheless, you've gotten me quite curious. Dance with me, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock paused, considering the offer for a moment as he gazed down into Lydia's teal eyes, noticing the bits of brown that surrounded her irises, matching the colour of her hair. He studied her features for a moment longer until, eventually, he slowly placed one hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"I do hope those dance classes you attended taught you the basic waltz," he spoke, taking her hand in his.

She offered him a small smile as she placed her free hand on his shoulder, "waltzing is one of the few things I do know how to do."

Sherlock started them off slow, dancing to a piece that only he could hear. But as she allowed him to lead her through the steps, it was almost as though she could hear it too. He glanced down at her and complimented, "you're not too bad, Ms. Evans."

"You can just call me Lydia, if you want. It will probably just be easier than calling me Ms. Evans all the time." As soon as the words left her mouth, she studied his face, hoping to decipher his reaction.

But it remained as blank as always as he replied, "very well, Lydia. I suppose that means you can just call me Sherlock. I know you must call me that to others anyway, so you might as well say it to my face."

A light blush coated Lydia's cheeks at his observation, but she refused to give him confirmation. Not that he needed it, Sherlock was certainly not one to doubt his deductions, even if he often found himself misreading the woman in his arms. But that was part of the game and what was making this case so interesting. He didn't need to involve himself in a simple smuggling ring, if that's what she and her friends were part of, he knew it would take tedious work to actually dismantle it. But she was making it worth the chase.

Lydia's leg hit the foot of the bed as they passed by it, not quite enough room in the cramped hotel room to truly waltz. The impact knocked her over onto the bed, causing Sherlock to lose his balance as well. But he managed to steady himself, catching her before she hit the mattress as well. The position they were in was almost like a steep dip, one Sherlock slowly eased her out of.

"That's probably a good life lesson, waltzing in a small hotel room may result in running into things," Lydia laughed, holding onto Sherlock's shoulders to steady herself.

Sherlock cracked a small smile as well, but found himself studying Lydia's expression. He had seen her playfully tease himself and her friends, but this was the first time that he had seen her truly happy. He didn't know why, but he felt his heart flutter at the sight and he couldn't prevent his own smile from growing.

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(A/N): Bit of a longer chapter for today, but a cute little scene between Sherlock and Lydia! Alright, I think that'll be it for the author's note as I am utterly exhausted and my bed is real warm right now ❤️ Enjoy!