I sat on the couch in my uncle's flat, fists clenched, knuckles going white as I watched half-a-dozen police officers search the place. I had definitely shown up at the wrong time. Sherlock and Doctor Watson were out, but here was half of Scotland yard, searching the place. Being a diagnosed sociopath along with a large number of my other family members, there were only a fair few amount of people I cared about, and Sherlock Holmes was one of them. Watching the police mess up his place as they searched for drugs left me with the most intense feeling of anger I had ever felt in my entire life. Anderson came around the corner and sat in front of me on John's armchair. Lestrade was insane if he thought Anderson talking to me was going to do any bit of good. I glared at him through my purple bangs.
"Miss Holmes, your uncle could have illegal substances around here. If you know about them, you would be wise to tell me about them," he said.
I snorted. I couldn't believe that this man actually thought I would tell him ANYTHING about my uncle. Sitting back, I crossed my arms over my chest. There was no way he was getting anything from me.
"I advise you to tell me anything you know, Miss Holmes." His voice had taken on an edge and I smirked inwardly. He was one of my favorite people to irritate.
The door burst open and Sherlock and John came running in.
"You can't just keep breaking into my flat!" Sherlock shouted, glaring at Lestrade who was currently residing in the armchair across the room.
Lestrade only looked at him.
Sherlock sighed.
"Another pretend drugs bust? What for this time?"
"I've had reason to be suspicious of you, Sherlock," Lestrade explained.
"What?" I leapt from my seat. "What are you playing at? He's clean!"
Sherlock looked at me, a look of surprise on his face at the shrill tone of my voice.
"Oh yeah, real clean. The freak's got a head in the freezer!" Anderson exclaimed.
If looks could kill, Anderson would have dropped to the floor writhing in agony. I even saw my uncle and John wince.
"Anderson, shut up!" I retorted. "Just because your wife decided to stay home instead of going on her business trip doesn't mean you have to be a complete prick to everyone else! I know this ruined your whole week planed with shagging Srgt. Donovan, but come off it!"
The entire room seemed to have fallen silent as I rounded on Lestrade.
"And you! You CANNOT just come in here on a suspicious hunch! You KNOW that!"
"Srgt-" Lestrade barely got the word out.
"If it was Anderson or Donovan that told you they found something, they're lying. There is NOTHING here!" I finished.
Sherlock came over and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into his eyes and immediately I knew I had to calm down. I took a deep breath and plopped back down on the couch.
"Alright guys. . . Clear out. . ." Lestrade called to the officers.
One by one everyone left. Lestrade was the last one to leave.
"Sherlock... If you have anything, I suggest you get rid of it." Those were his final words before he walked down the stairs and the door closed.
The tension automatically seemed to lift from the room and I let out a long sigh. John knealt down in front of me.
"Ophelia, open your hands. . ." He said gently.
I did so only to find that blood had pooled. Had I really been clenching my fists that hard? He stood and got the first aid kit from the kitchen, then began bandaging my hands. Sherlock sat next to me.
"How did you know that about Anderson's wife?" He asked.
I shrugged.
"He seemed more bitter than he normally is, so did Sally. I kept noticing the way they were looking at each other like they both hated, but wanted to be with each other at the same time. I kind of peiced it together with a little guess work."
Sherlock smiled at me and put an arm around my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze.
"I'm proud of you," he whispered to me.
This made me smile and the rest of the tension from the night eased away as well.
"Thank you, uncle Sherlock."
I looked at John who had finished fixing my hands.
"And thank you."
It was at this point that I realized that Doctor John Watson and Sherlock Holmes were the closest thing I had to a normal family. . . and I was definitely okay with that.