AN: Hey everyone. So this is the revised copy of Fraternizing with the Enemy chapter one. I didn't change too much, just the timeline and some wording lol. But I do like the changes and how they will impact the story. Hopefully will get more revisions up soon. Gotta work on my other fic though too lol. Hope you enjoy the (small) changes ;) ~Erin
Chapter One
"Another day, another case," Dr. John Watson, M.D., thought to himself as he ran after Sherlock.
This case was particularly unpleasant. In the last four days, three bodies had been found without faces. Sherlock had already deduced that the victims had been hit with sulfuric acid, virtually melting the faces from the muscle beneath. Each victim had shown signs of having undergone plastic surgery, but the identification process was still unfinished, leaving the investigation at a bit of a standstill.
It was all Anderson's fault, or at least according to Sherlock it was. The man seemed determined to prove Sherlock wrong and, as such, was doing everything but the facial reconstructions that were necessary for the case to go any further. When the third body had been found, Lestrade had finally threatened Anderson into doing as Sherlock said or lose his job and be charged with obstructing justice. It seemed to put the fear of God into the man as nothing else had.
So here they were, still waiting on Anderson to finish the facial reconstructions and Sherlock had gotten impatient. So he had posted a message to the culprit on his webpage and took Watson out to hunt, or as the brilliant madman had said "gather more evidence."
Honestly, there was probably nothing more terrifying to John than a bored Sherlock. Except perhaps when it was a bored Sherlock and a devious Mary. And that is partially what was going on right now. Sherlock had gotten bored waiting and had now gone off to create his own "entertainment." Leaving John to run after him and make sure he didn't cause too much damage to any of the "little people" the consulting detective happened to come across. Thankfully Mary had her baby shower and couldn't follow them on whatever dangerous activity the duo was embarking on today.
Still Sherlock seemed particularly excitable today; why, John had no idea. But whatever it was probably didn't bode well for some poor sod. For some reason, though, John didn't think Sherlock's anxiety had anything to do with their current case. While he did have a certain gaiety about him when on the case, he was still very serious about his work. Currently he almost resembled a child who had been told Christmas had come early.
"Come along, John," Sherlock called back. "Honestly you're so much faster when we're chasing criminals."
"What exactly are we chasing, Sherlock?" John was almost tired of this little guessing game; while he wouldn't prefer to be with all the women at Mary's baby shower, playing follow the leader with a high functioning sociopath all day with no idea as to the destination wasn't exactly topping it by much. The doctor was more than a little annoyed at this point.
Ever since the foreboding message seemingly from Jim Moriarty had appeared, Sherlock had been like the Energizer Bunny, running all over the place, barely taking a break or breaking a sweat. Quite honestly, John was rather worried for his flat mate, but other than his usual mania being rather heightened, Sherlock didn't seem too much different after his faked fall and message from his possibly returning nemesis.
"We aren't chasing today, John," Sherlock replied. "We're meeting."
"Who?"
"You'll see."
They approached the Charing Cross Hotel, Sherlock seeming to move faster and faster with each step. John cursed the man's long legs and quickened his pace irritably.
The duo entered the rather lavish lobby, Sherlock seeming to take in every elevator at once. John didn't think he had ever seen him so antsy before; the rather tall man kept muttering to himself "She's late, she's late."
After another couple of minutes, the muttering got a bit louder.
"Ugh, she's late! She's never late!"
"Who's late?" A feminine voice sounded behind the two ex-flatmates. Sherlock's eyes seemed to brighten as he turned.
A lovely brunette was standing behind them, looking smart in a little black dress. Her feet were encased in a pair of simple black pumps and a black coat was hanging on her shoulders. Her brown eyes glittered in amusement as she took in the infamous Sherlock Holmes.
"Annaleth." Sherlock greeted, a smile John had never seen before crossing his face.
"Hello, brother."