Hey everyone! Today is my friend Katherine A. Jones's birthday, so you should all go to her page and wish her a huge happy birthday! She's super awesome and sweet and recommends the best things to me. She's so fun to talk to. I wrote this for her, and although their isn't as much Jonhlock as I originally planned- I hope that you like it, Katherine. :)
"Let's see it, John." Sherlock grew impatient sitting on a bench outside the dressing rooms in a popular downtown department store. People kept giving him peculiar looks as he impatiently paced the room.
"No Sherlock. It's your style, not mine."
"I will personally knock the door down, and remember what happened last time I did that. It's a wonder that you still come back to this place after that. You were mortified, and all I did was laugh because it was a super brilliant karate kick."
"Sherlock, if I come out, will you shut up?"
"Yea." But as Sherlock said it, he stuck his tongue out, and crossed his fingers, meaning he was lying.
John stepped out of the waiting room, wearing a frock coat and scarf that matched Sherlock's usual attire.
Sherlock laughed. "You look…uh…Sherlockish?"
"What in the bloody heck is 'Sherlockish'?"
"It's a new word."
"Yea, yea, sure Sherlock. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Suddenly, John's phone began to ring, his ringtone being a disco song. John began dancing along with it, flailing his arms and shaking his hips. He struck a pose, then began dancing again.
"You gonna answer that?"
John finished lavishly. "Yea, yea. You always ruin the fun, Sherlock."
"May I remind you that I hate fun—"
John answered the line, silencing Sherlock. He talked urgently with whoever was on the other line, and he nodded vigorously. This reminded Sherlock of a penguin that they had seen on a trip to the zoo, and Sherlock had to fight to hold back a laugh. John as a penguin? For some reason, he could see it.
"It's Greg, Sherlock. For you."
"Greg, who is Greg?"
"It's Lestrade."
"Wait, his name is Greg? I thought it was Gavin. Wasn't it?"
"Just answer the bloody phone."
Sherlock made a face, then put the phone to his ear, while John went back into the changing room to get out of the coat. John had to admit, it gave him a feeling of power and mystery, and he could understand why Sherlock would wear this kind of coat everyday.
He finished and exited the room. "We're on our way." Sherlock shut the phone and handed it back to John, who pocketed it.
"There's a case at the nearby mansion that I'm needed for," said Sherlock. John just nodded.
As they exited the department store, (having bought nothing), John asked, "Sherlock, why don't you ever bring your phone anywhere?"
Suddenly, John's phone rang and lit up with a text.
Who said I didn't have my phone? Lestrade? I chose to ignore him. -S.H
Sherlock strode ahead as John called out, "How do you even do that?" but all Sherlock did was laugh.
They entered the mansion, shocked at how fancy it was, even though it was a crime scene. A huge chandelier cascaded from the ceiling, basking the whole room in light. A gorgeous painting with the deep colors of blue and green merged to show the power of the ocean, and a photograph of a girl and a boy sat on the side table. The girl was doubled over in laughter, her blonde hair falling out of the ponytail it was in and the boy had a huge smile that crossed his whole face. His arm was around her shoulder.
John couldn't help but look at the photo. He hoped someday, that he would have this relationship with someone. Sherlock disappeared into the living room, where John assumed he was looking at the body.
"That's Charles and I when we were in secondary school." A woman walked up to him. True to her word, she looked like the woman in the picture. "I'm Gabrielle, by the way."
John stared at her awkwardly. He wasn't good at talking to others, especially when sad things happened. "I'm John, John Watson. I'm sorry that this happened to you."
She smiled sadly at him. "Me too. But, what's happened has happened, right?"
He nodded, not able to form any words.
Lestrade walked in, obviously looking for Gabrielle. "So you mentioned that there was a party here and one of the men present at the party found him dead?"
She nodded, holding back tears, and John knew that the woman loved her husband with a passion. She took a deep breath. "I don't know why he was in there. The party was in the ballroom, on the other side of the house. We think it was to make a phone call."
Lestrade nodded. "That's understandable. Do you know anyone he would have talked to?"
She shook her head. "I really have no clue." As she finished her last word, the lights flickered off and the mansion plunged into darkness.
Sherlock was studying the body, and making predictions when all the lights went out. The crime scene was in the living room of the manor, and the yellow tapes were extensive, surrounding the body.
Someone shouted out, "Turn the lights back on!" and Sherlock couldn't help agreeing. He didn't have the patience to wait for someone to find the light switch, so he pulled out his phone and accessed a torch from it.
Looking around, everyone looked as confused as he felt, and everyone began talking at once.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" They all turned to look at him, and the room fell eerily silent. "Somebody find the lights."
Donovan, who worked at the Scotland Yard, scowled and said, "You heard the freak! Find the lights!"
Sherlock turned towards Anderson. "Find the lights." Anderson quickly scurried off, groping the wall for the lights, but not before commenting on Sherlock's insanity.
"Got it." Anderson called, flipping a switch. The lights flickered three times, then turned on completely, basking the room in a translucent light.
Sherlock turned to the rest of them. "EVERYONE GET OUT." He shooed them out, making sure that he locked the door. He did not need the annoyances as he started his final deductions.
John sat watching Sherlock, who was still looking at the body.
With a look of satisfaction, he stood up and made his way over to John. "I think I know what happened here."
John looked confused. "What happened then?"
Sherlock just smiled. "Ten o'clock, tonight, we come here and wait. The killer will present themselves to us."
John knew that Sherlock would say nothing more, so he let it go. "So have you talked to any of the three suspects? Luke Bright, Sadie Harrison, and Victor Hobbs. They were all present at the party."
They were leaving the mansion when they saw a man exiting his car. He had flaxen hair and in his hands was a large case. John immediately recognized him as Luke Bright, one of the suspects in the killing of Lord Charles. Sherlock ran across the street quickly, with little regard for passing cars. John stalled a bit, making sure to look both ways. He quickly ran across the road, and made it to Sherlock and Luke panting.
"John, out of breath already?"
John blushed. "In my defense, I haven't run since Afghanistan."
Sherlock nodded towards John. "This is my partner, John. John, this is Luke Bright. He's a lawyer visiting from New York."
John nodded at Luke. "Nice to meet you. Did you just arrive recently?"
"Nice to meet you too, John, and yes, I arrived from New York yesterday. I arrived just in time for the party. I was almost late actually because my flight came in late. I had to rush straight to the party." In his New Yorker accent, the words sounded foreign.
John nodded. "That's interesting. Did anything out of the ordinary occur at the party?"
Luke laughed. "Not that I saw. It was really fun until Lord Charles was found dead. The only part that wasn't fun was when a dog of another guest wouldn't leave me alone. I'm not fond of pets at all."
Sherlock, who was looking over Luke as he quickly deduced, said, "I hope that you won't mind me asking, but what's in the metal box?"
Luke opened his eyes wider for half a second. "It's a tool box. I'm helping Lady Gabrielle to fix a leak. I'd better go. We don't want any floods." He laughed, then ran up the steps. Sherlock closed his eyes and listened intently. He could have sworn he heard a faint whistling sound, but he quickly dismissed it. Luke was in the house in a flash.
John stared at the door that Luke had just disappeared into. "Well, he seems nice."
Sherlock nodded, and mumbled to himself before climbing back into the cab that they had just called.
He unrolled the window, eyeing John who was still out of breath, and still staring at the door. "You alright John?"
John nodded, then joined Sherlock into the cab. "Where to next?"
Sherlock just shook his head. "You'll see."
They stood in front of the store- it's pink and green awing shining as the sunlight hit it. The name of the pet store- Sadie's was on a sign, the cursive looking fancy.
"So, this is it then? She owns this store?" John wanted to laugh. Sadie Harrison was well known for being fancy, and the pet store reflected this.
Sherlock nodded as he opened the door and stepped inside. A bell chimed on the door. Large cages of dogs and cats lined one wall and on the other side was lined with fish, lizards, and snakes.
"Hello! My name is Sadie. Can I help you pick out a pet today?" An excited woman walked over to where they were standing in the doorway. John immediately recognized her. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a ponytail, and a snake resided around her arm.
Sherlock spoke up before John could. "I'm actually looking at the snakes. I'm thinking of getting one. Oh, and congratulations on your marriage."
Sadie stared at Sherlock, her eyes opened wide. "Uh, thank you. How'd you know?"
Sherlock just shrugged. "I saw the ring and noticed how shiny it was. Do you know Lady Gabrielle well?"
Sadie gaped at him. " How'd you know that I know her?"
"She just texted you." John stared at Sherlock, very perplexed.
Sadie looked shocked. "You're good. But yes, I've known her for a really long time. She's so sweet and kind to me. I used to work for her actually, and when my grandfather died and I got money, she convinced me to open the shop. I was just at her party a few nights ago. But, anyway, you said you're here for a snake? We have several types of snakes. You'd like a benign one, I assume?"
John gaped at her. "Do you even carry poisonous ones?"
She laughed. "We only have a few and they are much harder to buy. You have to have a house inspection, cannot have children and must have a clean criminal record. We have to do some work if you're interested. The process can take 2 weeks to 2 months."
"We'd like a benign one then." John knew that he did not want a poisonous snake, because with his luck, he'd get bit within an hour of owning the thing.
Sadie nodded. "That's probably a smart choice. We have several calm ones that you might like. She lead them to the display cases and pointed to each as they walked along them. Sherlock was staring intently into each cage. "This one's name is Rosie, and she's really gentle. She wouldn't hurt a fly. This is Ryder, he's a bit rougher than Rosie, but still kind. And that's Robin. She's kind of bipolar. She can be nice one minute, then angry the next. If you're first time pet owners, I would not recommend her. She's a good snake of course, just not ideal—"
A cell phone began ringing and Sadie grimaced before taking hers out. "Sorry about this. I better take this call."
She walked deeper into the store, leaving John and Sherlock alone. They could vaguely hear what she was saying, but neither was listening.
John turned towards Sherlock. "Are you crazy? I do not want a snake."
Sherlock shushed him. "Be quiet."
John didn't want to, but he quieted down. They both listened, and could hear the murmurings of Sadie as she spoke to the person on the other line. John could have sworn that he could hear a faint whistling sound.
Sherlock seemed to know what was happening, and he opened his mouth to tell John, but right as he did, Sadie popped out of the aisles.
"Sorry about that. I'm selling a poisonous snake for the second time in two days. It's a bittersweet moment. Did you guys decide what you want?"
John said, "No—"
Sherlock said, "We'll take Rosie."
Sadie beamed. "Rosie's such a good little snake. I'll get her ready to go."
John turned towards Sherlock. "What are you doing?"
Sherlock just smiled. "I'm working on a case, John."
"Do you think we'll figure out who killed Lord Charles tonight?" John asked as they rang the doorbell.
Sherlock, who looked excited, said, "I'm certain. If all my calculations are correct—"
Lady Gabrielle answered the door before Sherlock could finish. "Thank you for coming. I'm a bit nervous after all that's happened."
She led them to the living room. Both of the men sat down. "It's been pretty quiet around here since everyone left. The only visitor I've had all day is Victor Hobbs, who was Charles's old business partner. They went their separate ways this past May after heated debate. Of course, I never know much. Charles doesn't share his business matters. Victor's spending the night because his house is undergoing renovation."
Sherlock's eyes lit up. "Victor is staying in which room?"
"The room directly next to the living room, what we're in now. It's a guest bedroom." She smiled at them, but the smile gave way to a frown. "Oh my goodness, I didn't even ask if you wanted anything! Can I get you something to drink?"
"I'll take a cup of tea" John knew he would need a cup if they were going to stay up late. Sherlock was a night owl, but John couldn't stay up late without falling asleep.
"Me too," Sherlock said as he explored the room.
"Alright, how do you take it?"
"Straight up," they both said in unison, and she smiled, before saying, "Easy enough."
She got up to prepare the tea, and the two exited the living room. They stood in a long hallway. Sherlock was only interested in one door however. He knocked on Victor's door, crossing his fingers that Victor wasn't asleep.
Victor opened the door slightly, so that he was peeping out at John and Sherlock. He looked tired, his green eyes bloodshot. "Did you need something Gabrielle?" But when he realized that he wasn't talking to Gabrielle, he straightened up. "Sorry, I'm just so tired. We've been having some work problems since Charles died."
John made a sympathetic noise. "It's alright. We understand."
Victor tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Thank you."
Just as John was about to ask a question, a phone began to ring. Victor sighed. "What now?" He answered the phone and began to talk to the person on the other line."
Sherlock, who was staring at Victor, mumbled, "What is it with people answering their phones today?" John wanted to laugh but managed to hold it in. They signaled Victor that they were leaving, but before they left, they couldn't help overhearing Victor say "I'll pick it up in five minutes."
He ended the call. "I'm running out for a few minutes. Would you mind telling Lady Gabrielle?" Then, he got his coat on, and zoomed out of the mansion.
It was nine twenty three when Lady Gabrielle fell asleep on the couch while watching a movie. Sherlock hadn't been particularly interested in it; it had been about a dog who helped a family to learn to accept each other. The movie was just at the part where the dog was going to die. They had heard Victor come home a little less than a half an hour ago, but they hadn't talked to him because he had quickly locked himself in his room. John had been very interested in the movie, and still was when Sherlock's phone buzzed with a email. Sherlock quickly answered it, his fingers clacking as he did so.
"Who are you talking to, Sherlock?"
"Ah, no one." He finished the email, with a look of satisfaction. He turned off his phone, and glanced up at John. "Are you actually crying?"
John looked up, a blush tinting his features. "No, there is just something in my eye."
"Sure, there is. They're called tears."
John just groaned. "They aren't tears. My eyes are just watering."
Sherlock had been listening to John, but a sound distracted him, and he closed his eyes to listen. A low, whistling sound filled the air.
John, who had also heard the sound, whispered, "What's that?"
Sherlock shook his head, trying to ignore John so that he could concentrate. The whistling continued, but got louder, almost as if something was moving towards them. It went on for what felt like forever, but was only about two minutes. Sherlock and John both waited in anticipation. Time seemed to slow down as they waited. The only sounds that filled the air were the sounds of the movie still playing and breathing. John was about to pass the sound off as nothing to Sherlock, when something appeared.
A gold and yellow sparkling snake slithered out of the air vent slowly, as if it were waltzing into to join the fun. The snake slithered down the wall and towards John, who lucky knew enough about snakes to grab it without being bitten. It looked similar to a speckled band.
John gasped. "It's been a snake that killed Lord Charles, and it came again tonight!"
Sherlock jumped up. "I knew it!"
He raced out of the living room and into the hallway, staring at the door in anticipation. Sherlock Holmes was certain. He had found the killer.
Lestrade handcuffed Victor and forced him into the back of the police car, before turing to John and Sherlock.
"Good job mates!" He said as he smiled at each. "We figured out Lord Charles's killer. How did you do it Sherlock?"
Sherlock sighed. "It was actually quite simple, once I thought about it. The three suspects were Sadie, Victor, and Luke. Luke was American, and from New York, just arriving. This means that he had to take a plane and although he could have taken a pet overseas, it would have been harder, especially a poisionous snake. How do we know he didn't buy it here? His flight was delayed, he had to rush straight to the party. He proved my suspicions of his innocence when he told John that he didn't like animals. Sadie was innocent in the fact that she was really close friends to the Demange family, even working for them before starting her shop. She loved Lady Gabrielle and lacked the motive to kill Charles. That left Victor. He and Lord Charles recently had a falling out, and went their separate ways. Turns out, Victor was embezzling money, and Lord Charles found out about it. Charles was going to turn him in and take him to court. Victor thought that Lady Gabrielle would know something, so he planned killed her too. The lights turning off in the mansion were a distraction set up by Victor. I figured as much when they happened."
Lestrade looked impressed. "I was thinking it was something like that. How'd you know he embezzled money?"
Sherlock smiled. "I sent an email to Charles's accountant and talked to him about my suspicions. He later emailed me back saying such."
Lestrade nodded. "Just what I thought. I was going to do that next."
John turned to Sherlock. "Well, I think we better be getting home."
Sherlock followed John into the cab that they were taking home. The world whizzed by them, all in slow motion as the cabbie drove towards 221B Baker Street.
Sherlock looked over at John. "Were you actually crying during the movie?"
John turned to face him. "No way!"
"Someone's in denial…" Sherlock said in a singsongy voice.
"No, Sherlock."
"Come on, I've read your emails to your girlfriends. Trust me, I know how sappy you can be."
John looked offended. "Number one: You weren't supposed to read those. Number two: I wasn't crying, and Number three: We're home."
He was right, they had just pulled up to their apartment. After paying the cabbie, they got out.
"That was a fun night," Sherlock said as he trudged up the stairs. Once he reached the couch, he closed his eyes, and drifted into dreamland. His slightly sociopathic dreamland, but dreamland, nonetheless.
D.I. GREG LESTRADE SOLVES MYSTERY OF LORD CHARLES DEMANGE'S DEATH
SCOTLAND YARD ENSURES THAT KILLER OF LORD CHARLES IS IMPRISIONED
PARTNER OF LORD CHARLES FOUND GUILTY OF EMBEZZLEMENT
LORD CHARLES DEMANGE'S MURDER AVENGED
Sherlock Holmes set the newspaper down and smiled at the headlines, before getting up and going about the day.
So, that was the Case of Sparkling Band! I hope that you all liked it. It was my first time writing for the Sherlock fandom, but I already have so many new ideas, so I know that I will post more. :) You should head onto Katherine's page, or leave a comment down below in that box there and I'll make sure that it gets to her. Thank you so much for reading. :))
Xoxo, Whiterose