*One new text message*
From: John
Which is worse, a serial killer or an assassin?
From: Sherlock
Both are a lot of fun. Why do you ask?
From: John
Oh just curious since someone is following me
From: Sherlock
What does he look like?
From: John
He's tall and armed.
From: Sherlock
Are there any tattoos or markings on him?
From: John
Not that I see. He's got long sleeves.
From: Sherlock
Hair color?
From: John
Dark. Can't really see if it's brown or black.
From: Sherlock
It's probably nothing but your imagination.
From: John
I've made four right turns. He's still following me.
From Sherlock
Have you tried running?
From: John
You are no help, you know that? I'm just going to call Lestrade.
From: Sherlock
Now wait a minute! He might have some information!
From: John
Shut up
Ring, ring, ring…
"Hello, Lestrade." He answered as he made his way home after a long day of work.
"Lestrade? I'm being trailed." The voice on the other end sounded a bit anxious.
Lestrade narrowed his eyes. "John is that you?"
"Yes, someone is following me. I don't know who it is."
"Where are you?" Lestrade asked.
"Oxford." The moment John replied Lestrade changed directions and began to head towards the road.
"See any cabs?"
"None, and I wouldn't trust one at this point."
"I see your point. What direction are you heading?"
"West, getting near to Baker Street." Lestrade made a sharp right turn, offering a mild curse at the woman that he cut off when she honked at him.
"How far back are they?" Lestrade asked.
"I don't know, maybe fifteen meters."
"I'll be there in a moment. Run." Lestrade ordered, adrenaline making his heart race.
John hung up the phone and broke into an easy jog, glancing behind him, he noted his follower had struck up an even faster pace. He pushed himself even farther and ran headlong towards Baker Street. He felt his pursuer gaining on him and just as he crossed the road a car came out without stopping and hit his stalker, sending him sprawling in the road. It wasn't a very hard hit, just enough to stop him. John stopped and panted as he sent a smile at Lestrade.
The oncoming traffic had stopped before crushing the man Lestrade had hit, and a cab driver sat mouthing what was probably very colorful language at them.
"Where did you learn to drive?!" Came an angry grumble as none other than Sherlock Holmes got up from the pavement and stumbled towards them, adjusting his scarf.
Lestrade got out of his car, staring at Sherlock in disbelief before looking at John, who was also gaping at the detective.
"You think this is funny?" John demanded, angry.
"I was testing you!" Sherlock said. "I wanted to know what your reaction would be!"
Lestrade slammed his door shut and stormed over. "Well, I don't know how John did, but here – " with that he punched Sherlock in the face, knocking him to the ground again " – is my response."
John smiled at Lestrade. "Sorry about this."
"Oh no, call any time. Are you aware Mr. Holmes I can arrest you for disturbing the peace? However it would be a punishment to me to have to deal with you." Lestrade said, sending John a friendly nod. "However, if you would like to press charges or file a restraining order…"
John laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Sherlock had finally regained his feet again and was glaring at them both. "A fine way to thank me for trying to make sure you are prepared for such an event." He muttered.
John went over and began to help him home. "Good evening Lestrade."
"Good evening." Lestrade replied, getting back in his car and heading home.
As the inspector drove on he looked back to see John helping the detective home. He wondered briefly how a man like Sherlock Holmes had made friends with a man like John Watson.