RP for ignoringjohn

[consulting_detective_221]

OOC: Following exchange here.

"Well, if she was a relative of yours, then yes, I'm sure she did possess a certain degree of madness," Sherlock shouted at her over his shoulder. His excitement was far too much to contain; he did have a certain fondness for taxidermied animals. Never had he before seen them put in imaginary situations, such as a tea party. It made it all the more interesting and exciting.

He waiting for Anthea at the door, rocking on his heels a bit. He could be just like a little kid sometimes, waiting to go to the sweets shop.

"What else should I be aware of before we enter Aunt Agatha's House of Oddities?"

Comments

[ignoringjohn]

Anthea frowned at Sherlock. It wasn't until recently that she realized that Aunt Agatha was over the top mad, controlling and strict to the extreme and then a meter beyond the far edge. Anna had thought when she was little that she must have reminded her aunt of someone she hated. 'Helpful' classmates, who heard it from their mothers, said it was because Anna's mother took her father away to Scotland.

"She's dead and in a columbarium at the local Anglican church. I don't know what else you mean," chilled words were clipped as she opened the door. Anthea controlled her anger that she would be compared to the woman - Sherlock had no idea. Waving him in, "Go on. I'll make tea while you fuss about looking into the dust covered cases. Wander where you like, the whole house is filled with family collections. Sailing ships, brass compasses, sextants in one of the bedrooms upstairs. World War One and Two are in the basement I believe."

[consulting_detective_221]

Sherlock stopped after entering the grand estate, looking at and studying Anthea's face. He put a hand on each of her shoulders.

"I've upset you," he observed. "You were not very fond of this aunt, were you? I don't imagine that a woman who keeps such a ..." He took a quick glance around, "Child-proof dwelling would be well-loved by you. I can't say I've ever known an Agatha who was the warm and fuzzy type." He gave each of her shoulders a light squeeze. "I can wander about later. Let me help you with the tea."

[ignoringjohn]

Anthea's mask of pleasantries was back on, her head tilted slightly and, their height difference not extraordinary, she gave a slow blink up at him. It would have been disarming if he had been anyone but a Holmes. Her primary defense was to fallback to distraction, she had other armour to be certain, but retreating to well known ground was first.

Under his hands resting on the cashmere of her coat, her body was relaxed, right shoulder less than the left, understandably, but it was a stillness forced, a long practiced calm.

"What I think or feel for my once guardian is of little concern," Both to myself or others, not admitting upset or the quick flash of anger. "There is no reason to delay what you wish to see." The clipped tones had faded under a polite smile. "I will start the kettle and join you," however she made no move to step away or loosen his grip, only held his gaze, openly letting him read the untruth.

[consulting_detective_221]

"Please don't," Sherlock said quietly. "I know that you are guarded and that you wear your armor very meticulously. And I know that for most, this is more than enough to throw them off the scent of your trail. But please - if you respect me at all, or feel anything like friendship towards me, please don't try and disguise yourself around me." He keeps his gaze steady on her face. "I do not have to be like everyone else, Anthea."

[ignoringjohn]

Fingers clenched and released at her sides, cracking the facade further, unable to immediately let go of the cloak thrown over herself.

"You are not everyone else," truth, "and I am not like her," uncertainty coming through. Worry that she was or would be exactly like her aunt, was there and her eyes dropped. "I am sorry...and there's sentiment," quickly admitting her error.

"Anthea is a disguise." Blue eyes, looked back up, more of her returning. "I am Anna."

[consulting_detective_221]

"I am sorry for having ever compared you; I did not think it would cause such a tumultuous reaction within you," Sherlock said, his voice soft. He kept his hands on her shoulders, narrowing his eyes slightly at her admission. He stayed silent. He could see the transformation beginning to take place before his eyes. "This is much better." He reached up and touched her face very gently before feeling as though it were inappropriate and bringing his hands to his sides. "Anna."

[ignoringjohn]

Her head tilted imperceptibly into that brief caress. For a man who regularly, perhaps purposely called those around him by the wrong name, to hear her request was watching him break a pattern. But her name, her real name, which was not even one her aunt used, was a spoken reminder to be herself. A reminder that she didn't have to be Anthea, that she didn't have to distract, to fight and hide and sway, and a dozen other things she did to manipulate and trick those around her. Anthea was a tool to be used to get what was needed, and Anna... She hadn't been Anna in a long time, would forget how if she kept on the mask and without a reminder, she would slip back into a roll that had been perfected over the years.

"Thank you."