Hi! I got this weird idea stuck in my head since weeks! I was in a two hours traffic jam and I was bored and irritated and I thought, let's think about Sherlolly and this idea popped into my head. I tried ignoring it cause I have another fanfic going and I should finish it before starting another, but aaarrghh I just had to write it down and post it! Ok! Now that I've started it...I want to know your thoughts if it's vague or something...or is it ok as a start. I wouldn't want to give it all away :D
This is a Sherlolly fanfic.
I do not own Sherlock or any of it's characters.
Happy reading! x :)
1. Do Not Touch
" Hmmm…Do Not Touch…how does it know I want to touch it, John?"
"It knows you're a dickhead", John turned to look at the sergeants working around him.
"Mind if you keep a look out for Lestrade? I need to take this…", Sherlock murmured to John.
"No way! It says, Do Not Touch, so you shouldn't touch!", John whispered angrily.
Mr. Harroway, a celebrated cardiologist had been murdered in one of his private castles, gifted to him by someone just as old, a bit more celebrated than him, and not having the name Mycroft. Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and his team had been appointed as the investigation team for the crime. And of course when Lestrade cannot solve the case due to whatever reason, he calls upon genius git, Sherlock Holmes.
The castle was large, obviously, and decorated with ancient and antique items. No doubt they all came with the castle when it was gifted. A cardiologist doesn't have the time to decide on the decorations of his castle.
The cardiologist had been murdered in his study. It seemed like a normal study to everyone. But to Sherlock, it was basically a file room. All the cases…no, operations and consultations done by the cardiologist were catalogued here, in his study. He was an old man, so had lots of registers and books containing the catalogue. The room had shelves on three of its walls. There was a large table on the far corner of the room, with a comfortable chair behind it. The body was found not on the chair or near the table, but by the door. He had been running from someone.
"Why run to the study? There are no hidden weapons that we could find", Lestrade declared.
"Hidden, inspector. Hidden. They are not supposed to found, so you didn't", Sherlock murmured in his deep baritone distractedly. Sherlock walked in circles in the center of the room, ignoring the body.
"Aren't you going to examine the body?", Lestrade questioned cautiously.
"No. It doesn't hold any interesting detail. Mr. Harroway was just shot with a 0.38mm bullet and he must have barely felt anything. What we are looking for…is the weapon. The killer came in here, not to kill, but to retrieve something of importance. The weapon. We need to find it, Lestrade. Put this building on high security, because I'm sure, whoever wanted the weapon, wasn't able to get it."
"How do you know that?", John frowned as sat down on his knees beside the corpse to examine it.
Sherlock pulled out a gun silencer from his coat pocket and held it in the palm of his gloved hand, "I found this silencer in the hall. It is highly probable that it belongs to the killer. The killer had intended to come in stealthily, finish the cardiologist and take the weapon with him. However, he dropped the silencer somehow, didn't realize it and when he shot the cardiologist, he was taken aback by the loud sound. He got scared and quickly ran away. That is why the study looks too untouched for a robbery."
"He's right…it was a 0.38mm bullet or less. He wouldn't have felt anything…", John concluded.
Sherlock stopped spinning and pressed his fingers against his temple. He gasped when his mind palace came with the answer and made a beeline for the table.
"We've checked all the drawers, Sherlock. There wasn't anything", Lestrade informed.
"If you think I'm going to poke in the table's drawers, you're just as thick as you look. I'm going to check the chair's drawers", Sherlock grinned like a maniac as he bent down and began poking the chair in all sorts of places. He was oblivious to John's and Lestrade's concerned looks when Sherlock lied down on the floor, under the chair. He looked at the seating of the chair and found barely visible lines forming a square. He gently poked the edge of the square with his finger and the square turned one eighty degrees to show a deep red, velvet box on the other side. Sherlock gently pulled it out and slid from under the chair.
"Here is your weapon, inspector", Sherlock announced as he placed the box on the table. It had a tiny golden latch on its front. Sherlock tried opening it with his finger but it wouldn't hold on. His fingers were too big for the box. He growled and pushed the box towards John and Lestrade. They couldn't do it either.
"Mr. Harroway!", Sherlock shouted, "Give me that box!", Sherlock practically snatched it from John and bent down beside the corpse. He was a cardiologist, he must've had skilled fingers like Sherlock. But he had tiny fingers, very useful, for opening the box. Sherlock took hold of one of his fingers and opened the latch with it.
"We could've used a pencil inste-", John protested.
"No time!", Sherlock scowled as he set the box back onto the table and opened it to reveal a red, velvet pouch and a note scribbled on the paper. He pulled out the paper carefully and read it.
" Hmmm…Do Not Touch…how does it know I want to touch it, John?"
"It knows you're a dickhead", John turned to look at the sergeants working around him.
"Mind if you keep a look out for Lestrade? I need to take this…", Sherlock murmured to John.
"No way! It says, Do Not Touch, so you shouldn't touch!", John whispered angrily.
Sherlock waved a hand at him as he pulled open the string of the pouch and leaned down to look inside. He pulled his glove off and pulled the velvet fabric away from the object. His finger barely grazed against the cool surface and he was in the air, flying back with such force that when he made contact with the ground, he fainted.
I promise it will make a tiny bit more sense in the next chapter. *giggles* Do review! x :)