A/N: I don't own any of the "Elementary" characters and I am not making any money from writing this.
Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.
This story takes place about a month after the events that took place "In Plain Sight". Sherlock and Joan are now romantically involved, but are still keeping it a secret. What happens when a seemingly routine murder investigation apparently places them into a time loop where they keep reliving the same day over and over again? Like in "Groundhog Day"? The title inspired by the episode 1x18 "Deja Vu All Over Again".
This, like "In Plain Sight", is a romance Joanlock story but mostly a case!fic. I don't think it will necessarily eng up as fantasy or science fiction story, though finding a rational explanation for such plot will be grad to come up with. Suggestions are welcome.
I am not sure why, but I have a feeling that they would refer to Clyde as "him" rather than "it".
The alarm clock went off. Sherlock opened his eyes almost immediately, though it took him some time to register his surroundings.
Brownstone. Bedroom. In his bed, next to Joan. He was used to all of that by that point, but it felt, reminding himself of some things.
He rolled over in bed, facing Joan. She was still asleep, lying face up on the bed, the bed sheet barely covering her breasts and still revealing quite a bit of her legs and thighs. Sherlock smiled and observed her for some time, feeling warmth spread through his chest. Joan's breathing was shallow, her lips parting slightly every now and then, and a strand of her hair was spranded over her cheek. She looked so peaceful, calm... perfect.
And then Sherlock took a deep breath, leaned a little closer, and yelled.
"Watson!", he yelled, his face directed straight at the side of hers.
Joan groaned, slowly opening her eyes, her hand instantly pressing against her forehead.
"Even when we are sleeping together, literally and figuratively, you are the one to wake me up", she whined, sitting up in bed.
Sherlock smirked. "Don't say that it isn't worth it." He sat up in bed. "Besides, you didn't hear an alarm clock."
Joan rubbed her eyes. "You barely even use it!", she complained. "You despise those things!"
Sherlock stood up, heading toward the closet. "True, but we have some important errands to get done today", he reminded her. Still mostly naked, he opened the closet, taking a look at the items inside. "Rise and shine, Joan!", he cried as she sat up in bed, fixing her hair. "And don't worry, I am not going to choose your undergarments. Not even now."
Joan groaned and crawled out of the bed.
#
Within half an hour, they were in the kitchen. Sherlock was standing in front of the stove, making scrambled eggs. Joan was sitting at the table, typing away on her phone, sometimes sighing.
"Something important?", Sherlock asked.
"My mother", Joan answered, not looking up. "I have to meet her for lunch tomorrow."
Sherlock frowned. "Why?"
Joan put the phone away. "Well, we haven't seen each other in a while. I think that is a reason enough."
"Maybe she has an inkling about the... turn our relationship has taken and wants to "do her research"?", Sherlock suggested, almost smugly.
Joan, still remaining serious, rolled her eyes. "Let's hope not."
#
They were walking around the store, looking at the terrariums. There were bunch of them, of different sizes and shapes, all over the shelves. The only two other people in the store were a young clerk moving some boxes around and a young man observing the bird cages.
"Since we are getting a new terrarium for Clyde, we should get a bigger one", Joan suggested, smiling at the mental image of Clyde in a new terrarium.
"I don't see how", Sherlock answered. "He doesn't grow."
Joan smirked. "It would be nice."
The clerk ended up dropping one of the boxes on the floor. The sound of broken glass was heard. She mumbled something and went on to clean up the mess.
Sherlock eventually stopped in front of a very specifically designed terrarium, placed on one of the upper shelves. "This one is perfect", he exclaimed in awe.
"It is a terrarium shaped like a labirint", Joan noticed.
"My point exactly", Sherlock added.
"We can't buy that!", Joan cried. "It will drive him insane!"
"I think you are underestimating him."
At that point, Sherlock's ringtone went off. He groaned in annoyance, pulled the phone out of his pocket and read the text. Soon, his face fell. "They need us at Fifth Avenue. Murder."
#
The body of Daniel Miles, a murder victim, was laying face up on the floor. He had been stabbed in the chest and stomach, multiple times. One of the forensic techs just finished bagging a bloody screwdriver. Marcus was standing near the body, flipping through his notepad, while Joan and Sherlock were leaned over, studying the body and taking glances at the crime scene as a whole. A distressed young blonde woman, the victim's assistant, was standing in the waiting room, talking to one of the uniformed police officers. Near by was a stocky middle aged Caucasian man, one of the victim's patients.
"Daniel Miles, twenty eight", Marcus read. "A dentist. This was his ordination. The M.E. estimates that he was murdered today between twelve am and one pm. One of his patients, Eric Johnson, found him at around two pm, shortly before the closing time. He had an appointment. He informed the police. We already pulled the log about the today's patients from his work computer, just in case. His assistant, Julie Jones, arrived soon after. She had a day off and arrived because she wanted to take one more day off and he wasn't answering his phone." He looked around. " The lock on the ordination door seems to be broken, probably by a screwdriver. The ordination has been ransacked, Daniel's wrist watch and phone are missing. Some medications appear to be missing too. It looks like a burglary gone wrong. Could be drug dealers. This is a pretty safe neighborhood, but you never know. There are security cameras in the waiting room and out in the front, but the killer took all the footages. It will be difficult to access to the rest of the logs and medical records. Patient confidentiality."
"This wasn't a burglary gone wrong", Sherlock exclaimed, straightening himself up. He took a few steps back, then observed the body one more time."The body was found here. Seven feet away from the door", he explained. "No drag marks. No signs of a struggle near the door. No other songs of breaking in. A scalpel in the open container on the dental chair near the body, left undisturbed. Mr. Miles was a strong, fit young man. Are we supposed to believe that he just stood there, waiting for the intruder to break in, run over to him and attack him? Without putting up any fight or even trying to dial 911? And why would the killer use the letter opener found on the scene if he already had a screwdriver?"
"The killer is left handed, reasonably strong", Joan concluded, still studying the body, especially the stab wounds. "Probably left handed. Most of the stab wounds seem to be on the left side of the torso and there is what appears to be a smeared palm print on the left side wall", she noted, turning around.
"Multiple stab wounds could indicate a crime of passion", Sherlock added, as Joan began walking around, studying the medical equipment. "Mr. Miles was definitely seeing somebody at the time of his death. A strong smell of male perfume, collogne and a hair gel present on his body. As well as a faint scent of female perfume. Medium quality, but I can't really determine which one, too much... layers over it. His assistant uses none, I'm certain of that."
"That could be why he was, apparently, planning to close early", Joan suggested, studying the anesthesia container near the patient chair, as Sherlock walked over to the victim's desk and studied his date book, then started flipping through it. "His log shows that he had no patients since eleven am. The M.E. concluded that he was murdered between twelve am and one pm. His patient, who had an appointment, found him at two pm. And yet, the anesthesia container is completely empty."
"Or perhaps the killer stole that too", Marcus suggested.
"Unlikely. No traces of blood around the anesthesia container. And it would take some skills in order to accomplish that."
"The marks on the corner of this date book shows that he was opening the same page a lot lately", Sherlock noted, still flipping through the date book. "The one with the today's date marked on the side of the page. Other than some info about the patients, there is an apparent appointment written for today at twelve thirty am. No details but the time and intials. A.D.C."
Sherlock then closed the date book and walked around some more, eventually concentraring on a blood stained pen stored into one of the evidence bags. That bas was placed on the victim's desk, together with a few other pieces of evidence, and one of the forensic techs just began storing them away.
"This pen was found somewhere near the body, I asssume", he exclaimed.
"Yes", Marcus confirmed. "In the pool of blood. Right against his right lower thigh."
Sherlock nodded his head. "I noticed a smear. Since there are no other pens near the body, I assume that the killer probably dropped it by accident and overlooked it while estaging and cleaning up the crime scene. Maybe forensic examination will uncover some useful evidence."
"Or it could have fallen out of the victim's own pocket. He had a few in his coat and pants", Marcus suggested.
"Take a closer look at the pin. This pen is of green ink. All the pens that I have found in this ordination, including the ones found in the victim's pants or coat, are either of blue or black ink. All the notes in his date book seem to be written exclusively in black or blue ink too."
He shared a look with Joan, adjusted his coat, then headed toward the door.
"I suggest we search mr. Miles' apartment next", he decided. "With some eudora, we may be able to uncover the killer's identity before evening."
Joan smiled, looking away, and Marcus glared at Sherlock before following him.
~OPENING ROLES AND CREDITS~