Dedicated to my friend Jared Kat.
Happy Birthday. Read some fanifcs and stay up late or sleep in, whichever suits you best. You survived another year, cheers.
Apologies if characters are slightly out of character.
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"Where is she?!" he yelled slamming his hands down on the tabletop and glaring up at the detective. The detective looked at the young man with pity. The chances of even finding her body was slim let alone finding her alive. But it was his job to assure the frantic man that everything would be all right, that they would find her, that all their efforts were being used. Even if- it was all a lie.
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Sherlock slammed the door behind him as Lestrade followed him up the steps and into his flat. It was covered with dust and still smelled slightly like must after years of disuse. The furniture had moved and the curtains open to let the weak, fading rays of sunlight into the room. Sherlock turned abruptly and glared at Lestrade. "No," he said sternly as saw Lestrade start to talk.
"Sherlock…it's for your own good," he said looking the git over.
"I said no," he repeated glaring at the older man.
"It's just one," Lestrade sated drawing out the words, "nothing bad can happen from just one."
"No," Sherlock said taking off his coat and scarf before plopping himself down on the couch and staring up at him.
"It's just one date Sherlock. Maybe you'll like her." Sherlock began to protest. "And you can't say you don't date because you did date the assistant and...Irene?" he said dubious of the last one.
"It was for a case. And I'm married to my work."
"You need to get over her-"
"I was never dating her!" shouted Sherlock angrily. "I did not like her, I used for a case and I do not need human companionship!"
Lestrade sighed, "You clearly need someone Sherlock, you weren't like this when John was here."
Sherlock rolled his eyes exasperated. "Alone protects me."
Lestrade made his way to door and stopped, "One date, one case?" he suggested.
"No," Sherlock said his voice muffled in the couch.
The door shut behind him as Sherlock listened to the sound of the receding footsteps on the steps followed by the sound of the second and final door closing. Rolling onto his back, he looked up at the ceiling his fingers against his chin. He stood up and walked slowly to his violin, pulling it out of his case and setting it down before reaching into the sides of the case and pulling out a necklace. The gold wedding band dangled from the necklace and he swung it back and forth watching it catch the fading evening light.