Hello! Lovely to meet you all and thank you for having a wee look at my story, hope you find what you are looking for! First off, let me give some background to everything!
I am new to this, this being my second piece of writing, and first (hopefully!) long length story! I have had the first four chapters written for a long long while and after doing nothing but collect dust on my hard drive, I have decided to publish them as they are. I must emphasise that whilst I did have a strong idea to where this story was going to go, I regret that I am now a little lost so please please do not be disappointed if I take a while to come back to this, real life unfortunately does get in the way! Everything should be calming down for summer soon so hopefully I'll have time to come back and give this story more attention.
I do not have a beta so any and all mistakes are my own, and the rating to this story is subject to change. If anyone has any suggestions of where this story could go please feel free to comment/give me an email, I'd love to hear your ideas! I do have an idea where I'd like this to go but it just isn't sitting neatly enough for my liking for me to write it yet….
Anywho, please enjoy what meagre offering I have to give so far!
I
Sherlock walked into the living room, simultaneously shrugging off his long coat and hanging it along with his scarf (blue cashmere: a present from Mrs Hudson for Christmas) at the back of the door. The flat seemed oddly peaceful. He'd expected John to be back by now. His eyes quickly glanced over the usual locations where he'd expect to find a hastily written note declaring John to be out for the evening, no doubt with that GP woman he was so fond of. When Sherlock didn't find anything worthy of his attention he strode into the kitchen and checked in there. Nothing had changed since Sherlock's presence this afternoon. His microscope, along with the tray of serum samples he'd been examining were still on the dining room table surrounded by the piles of autopsy reports he had yet to go through on behalf of his latest experiment.
Sherlock turned on his heel back into the living room and collapsed back into his chair, kicking off his shoes at the same time. It had been a long day whilst nevertheless productive. Again it seemed he was the only person in London who was capable of using his brain. Actually using his brain. Not this criminal profiling nonsense that Lestrade's team felt necessary in every single case. If they just looked. Really looked. Nine times out of ten the answer would be staring them in the face.
Sherlock sighed and looked at his watch. 10:36pm. He must have been longer than he had thought sat in the interviewing suite with Lestrade and Donovan. He got up and strode over to his violin and began to play a new tune he'd been working on. It was the quiet tap on the door followed by the familiar announcement hum that stopped him mid-harmony. Mrs Hudson was stood peering round the door.
"Sorry to disturb you Sherlock, but this came for you earlier when you were out" with this she held out a little parcel, neatly wrapped with Sherlock's name written across the brown paper in calligraphic writing. Sherlock took the parcel from her and placed it on his desk.
"Thank-you Mrs Hudson." He said quietly. With this, she smiled and started to slip the door close gently, but before she could, Sherlock spoke.
"Oh and Mrs Hudson, John didn't happen to say where he was going this evening did he?"
"No dear, I haven't seen him since he left for work this morning, why?" She asked gently.
"No reason. Good night Mrs Hudson" Sherlock said as he swung up the violin to continue where he'd left of. Mrs Hudson stood smiling and listening to the beautiful music before she turned to leave.
"Night Night, Sherlock"