Chapter: When neighbors becomes a pest

Catherine Amell had high hopes of London, when she moved here two months ago. An easy study, a little more excitement in her life and to find a bit more about the mysterious death of her brother Jeffrey. Well, none of this came as she had expected. How was it said? Things never become what you're expecting.

This was definitely the case. She could have had a quiet, peaceful life in the capital of the United Kingdom, but she had to meet Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson- her new neighbors. Ok, Mr. Watson was really okay. He was a very nice, sensitive man, but Sherlock Holmes could be a real pest. What, like John had said, was still a mild understatement. Meanwhile, she began to understand why. He kept her on her toed. In addition to her work on her thesis she barely came to learn. Sherlock constantly swept unannounced into her apartment to ask her insane questions about biology.

'How do I make a rabbit shine?', was even the most harmless question. Naturally all purely hypothetical, as Sherlock assumed, her, but she could not really believe him. For this, she had get to know him too well, and had heard so absurd-sounding storied from John, while they were drinking coffee together, to even believe Sherlock for a minute. There were so absurd that she sometimes play with the thought that John might kidding her, but for Sherlock they were more than fitting. It would even be surprising if they were not true.

Sometimes it seemed to her that John was happy that she lived next door. A more or less normal person who knew Sherlock and where he could complain. Catherine noted, however, that he's not so bothered as he acted, that he was enjoying the time with Sherlock- more than he admitted.

She sighed and ran a hand through her long brown hair that was now braided again, while she tried to remember the names of various genes involved in cell division. With neighbours like that she could forgot to have a normal life anyway, so she did not need to play the role any longer. Her eyes went back to the lecture, which was opened on her laptop, and then looked back at the recommended textbook.

Mal3, Cdc 25- which was another gene in than in s. cerevisiae- Cdc2…who had given them such stupid names? And how should she memorize them? Frustrated, she closed her MacBook and put her head on the desk.

She needed sleep. Her thought exaggerated only sluggishly. How did Sherlock manage to stay awake for three days when he was working on a case? She was completely done after a night out and she wasn't able to catch at least one clear thought. And she had to do this genome transformation today. She would not survive this! Far too many small steps in which far too much could go wrong and destroy the work of hours if you were not focused. And by God, she wasn't.

It was now two months since she moved to the Baker Street and Sherlock had explored every detail of her private life with a few glances. Frightening, disturbing and impressive at the same time. But she had not wanted to show it to him. Not this arrogant bastard, who had meant that he had the permission to uncover everything. No, she had not wanted to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had been so damn right and somehow it had amused her that she had done it to defy herself a little and to throw him out of balance.

John had been pretty quiet during this afternoon, had vacillated between shock and amusement, and simply watched the spectacle. Catherine had to admit, that she liked Sherlocks humour- at least sometimes if he's not the cocky I-know-all-of-you Sherlock.

She had noticed quickly, that had not been able to hid something from the Consulting Detective and finally had answered all his questions, so that he would disappeared from her apartment. He had not realized how much troubled and restless he had made her and that she just had wanted him to stop putting salt within her wounds. The Biology was the only thing that was still complete, but even she broke slowly.

Then suddenly something had changed that day. Sherlock had become calmer, almost understanding when she had started to talk about her brother. Something that had irritated her, had made her more careful, but she had not noticed anything unusual. Sherlock simply had seemed to be interested in knowing more. He had asked for further information, but he had not been snide, still condescending. Perhaps he would help her?

Finally, John had told her the next day that Sherlock was consulted by Scotland Yard, but so far nothing happened. But finally nobody understood what just caught Sherlocks attention. It was a big mysterious as the date of the destruction of the world.

'He seems to like you…as much as he can.', John had told her a month ago, when Sherlock had left him alone after a storm of new ideas.

She did not even remember how many times Catherine have replaced the lock and finally she gave up.

Just in case, he would still have his picklock, Sherlock had even grinned. Seeking for help she had looked at John with an expression saying: 'He's not serious, isn't he?' But John had given her a tired look that made pretty clear that Sherlock was.

So she hasn't replaced the lock since then. Just the thought she could startled from the noise of the prick was frightening.

Catherine quickly repressed these memories and so many similar ones that burst over her. Sherlock unannounced visits had become an integral part of her- thanks to him- non –existing everyday life. Also calls during the work were no longer a rarity and she has not even the slightest idea where he had gotten her damn number. But with Sherlock Holmes nothing really surprised her anymore. She had wanted a boring life and got action. Maybe she should be more careful with her wishes in the future.

Bamm! As she was thinking about it, her door was slammed and Catherine already saw how Sherlock Holmes stormed- clothed in his dark coat- into her living room. Damn, why did not her apartment have a hallway? Why was he right in her living room? She sighed and turned around in her seat.

"How can I fake DNA?" Sherlock went like a bull at a gate and stayed with quivering nostril in the mid of her sitting area.

"Good morning, Sherlock." She yawned and just ran her fingers through her hair. Someday, she did not remember when, they called each other by their forename. There had been no consolation or agreement, at some point they had just called themselves by their first names.

John followed his flat mate a few moments later, threw an apologetic view towards her and wished her a good morning. Catherine nodded, returned the greeting, revealing a smile, but her attention was at Sherlock, who looked at her defiantly.

"To fake DNA? Are you serious?" Catherine dug deeper and throw a helpless view to John, who had already taken a seat on the couch. The usual ritual, which is even repeated late at night. No, Sherlock definitely knew no discretion and no societal norms. Well, she guessed he knew pretty well, he just did not care.

"Sherlock says that he knows the murderer of the Thames Series, but unfortunately the DNA does not fit." John said quietly and took out his notepad on which he wrote down every remark of Sherlock for his blog.

"Well, Sherlock. Then you should consider that you're probably wrong." Catherine said simply and grey-blue eyes watched her angrily.

"I'm never wrong." He repeated the words he had said to her as they had got known each other, only this time even more grimly. Catherine sighed and slumped in the chair. She put her hand to her chin, thought about it. She did not notice how Johns threw an amused look at her, because she did not even realized that she even took a little of Sherlocks body language.

"Well…everything is hypothetically, right?"

"Sure." She sighed deeply again and closed her eyes.

"So…you'd need…theoretically…the DNA of the person who you want to give the blame of the crime… and in a quantity that it would be forensically significant. Hmm…for reproductions are conditions like in a cell necessary…in vitro that will probably not work…you need natural environment…so we'd need in vivo."

"Isn't this possible with the PCR method?" Sherlock asked impatiently. Catherine shook her head.

"No… DNA is multiplied with it, that's true, but in this case you'd have to check by gel electrophoresis if the reproduction was right and afterwards the DNA is useless, because you can't get it out of the gel so easily. Nevertheless it would never be seen as a natural DNA. So we need DNA replication under in vivo condition. This requires polymerase, restriction enzymes and a cell…"

"As if I don't know that all." Sherlock said annoyed and gave her a sparkling look. "If I'd want to know that…"

"Pab!" She raised her hand and interrupted Sherlock. He gave her an irritated look. "Sherlock! You've asked me to think about something for ya hypothetical and to do so, I need to go along my Mindway. Yes, Sherlock, not everyone as an extraordinary mind palace like you, but I have to go through all the facts to find the answer. So do not interrupt me!"

"Catherine…" He sighed annoyed. "I don't want to push you under pressure, but a murder is still free. It's about human life. You are not too stupid. You did not get the free scholarship for less. Now prove why."

"Oh yes, very helpful, Sherlock. If this is not motivating. No pressure, no stress. " She yawned again. John laughed as Sherlock stomped angrily with a foot. It seemed to be really urgent and Sherlock seemed to be unable to find the solution, otherwise he would not be obviously impatient. Her thoughts drifted through all of her knowledge about cell division, different cell types, cell proliferation and nucleus multiplication. It seemed to be really important, but her tiredness made it impossible to think. She murmured the facts over and over again and this time Sherlock remained silent. Suddenly an absurd idea matured in her head. She was shockingly easy, but theoretically possible. She quickly turned around in her chair.

"Where is it? …Bloody mess!" She cursed and rummaged through her textbooks. Where are her documents of cell molecular biology and animal physiology? Damn movement! Nothing was in his usual place. Maybe she should better google it. Quick as a flash, she flew over known scientific webpages and studied the articles. When she finished after a few minutes, she just laughed and shook her head.

"What?" John asked now and slipped in front of the couch.

"That's not…" She was still laughing and banged her head on the table. "It's so easy. So damn easy. Every biology student could do it." She was still overwhelmed and shook her head.

"You have an idea?" Sherlock asked and stepped beside her, leaning forward to look that the opened homepage.

"Sherlock…" She said breathlessly and looked at him. "It's shockingly easy." Then she pointed out a passage as she marked it with the mouse.

Sherlock unconsciously put a hand on her back to bend down better.

"I have no idea if it works in practice. But in theory…that throws back the whole coroner." She went on and now even john stood up to look at her discovery.

"What have you discovered?" Said the deep voice of John. Sherlock's baritone was heard as well, when he stopped reading the section:

"The white blood cells?" He drew his conclusion from what Catherine had shown him.

"Why the leucocyte?" John repeated irritated.

"Just think about it…" Catherine said impatiently. "Leucocytes are pluripotent. They're divided into the progenitor cell of blood cells and another stem cell. They are extremely durable and divide themselves more frequently than normal cells because of pluripotency. You just need to isolate them from the victim's blood. That's also possible in vitro…it's even made in stem cell donation. Then they multiply the DNA and afterwards you can mix them with the isolated red blood cells. Erythrocyte don't have DNA…"

"And if the two are mixed together, you could think, it's the blood of someone else. Oooooh, that's brilliant. Really brilliant." Sherlock eagerly clapped his hands.

"Catherine, can you try this out for me in your lab?" He called over her shoulder and stormed out of her apartment.

"What…Sherlock, I cannot…" He left behind a still stunned Catherine and a horrified John. Both blinked at each other and she leaned back so that the back of her chair was almost completely bowed.

"God…what have I done? Hopefully he does nothing…nothing sherlockian with it…" She did not know how to express it better. John sighed heavily and stroked his hair. A few minutes passed before Catherine dropped onto the sofa- tired and overwhelmed. She had not recently discovered what many researchers oversee? It could not be that easy? She just shook her head and sat down on the couch. It was too late for work already and she was devastated.

"Tired?" John asked quietly and sat down in front of her. She just nodded and closed her eyes.

"I did not sleep last night because I had to learn for an exam, but I was just thinking about lots of things." She sighed frustrated. "Even on biology I'm not able to concentrate anymore."

"Sherlock has an engaging personality." John grinned and stood up. "Tea?"

"Oooooh, yes, please!" She sighed with pleasure just because of the thought. "You know where everything is, right? Can I just make a call?"

"Sure." Smiled the old military doctor who had become a confidant. Probably it was because they had to cope with Sherlocks escapades and so had a common topic. That and biology, because medicine and biology were very close.

Catherine stood up and picked up her mobile phone. A SMS from Sherlock was deliberately ignored and called her lab.

"Hey Kathy…Catherine here. I'm feeling sick…I think I just caught the flue. London is pretty wet. I'm going to the doctor tomorrow. Could you do the transformation for me? Everything is already prepared. You only had to mate the H and H+ strain and put them into the incubator of 27°C. This would give me two days to recover. The other experiment I'm gonna start when I'm healthy again. Would you do that for me? And the other sample in the incubator put on the full medium and put them back? Please! Really? Oh you're a sweetheart, Kathy. Thank you! See you then." She hung up happily. At least a day of rest- if Sherlock allowed it. A day to organize her thoughts. She heard the clatter of Chinese porcelain and looked up tiredly. John came back into the living room and sat down, before he put down the coups. The wonderful scent of chamomile rose in her nose and she smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, John. That's a bless. I do not know how you could manage this trotting. Sherlock's worse than a sack of fleas."

"I would rather say 10." He grinned amused and took a sip. Catherine laughed and put his head back.

"Is it that simple?" She murmured at last after a few minutes and took a sip of tea thoughtfully.

"I don't know. I'm out of the material for too long, but it sounds logical."

"If it's like this, then it scares me, John. Then it becomes difficult for Sherlock to solve a case." Again silence came over the room like a heavy blanket and the beating of the clock was the only audible sound.

"Do not worry. Everything is gonna be alright." He tried to calm her down and smiled encouragingly, but it seemed contrived. He seemed to be restless as well.

"But I'm just a simple biology student… I'm sure there is something I have not considered. It's certainly not possible." It was a desperate attempt to calm her, but in reality, her nerves fluttered and she felt a little at the thought. What if she was not wrong? If it was really that easy? No…no. Catherine! Just don't think any further! It was only a hypothesis. Just a simple, silly hypothesis of a dump student. Nothing more! A silly thought experiment. Nothing but a mind game, a play with a thought…but one that Sherlock Holmes took seriously. So it might not be quite so far-fetched…but…oh, damn it!

"Do not think about it." John's calm voice shot through her thoughts. Catherine looked over at him. John looked back at her and then shook his head noticeably, let his gaze wandered and seemed to have decided to change the subject.

"Something new from your brother?" He asked cautiously after some time and put his head on his folded hands. Catherine looked at him with a sad look and shook her head.

"I did not find the time to do some research. And somehow I hoped that Sherlock might help me." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and took a sip of tea to flush away the appearing sadness. That had been the reason why she had moved here, why she had left her birthplace Cardiff, but the authorities, Sherlock and her study robbed all of her time, so it was still a step progress.

"I'm sorry, Catherine." She just shook her head and sat up.

"It's not your fault, John. Not even Sherlock's, even if he keeps me on my toes, just mine, because I'm not able to organize my life." She sighed once again, ran through her yet dishevelled hair and then giggled nearly crazy.

"I could have such a quiet life…" John laughed too and sat back.

"You can check that off with Sherlock."

"Is he even able to sit calmly?"

"Yeah…but just for a second." Catherine laughed and then closed her eyes.

"Everything is a bit too much, huh?"

"That's an understatement. The study already costs all my strength, then Sherlock's sudden appearance and disappearance nearly kills me. I like him…sort of…but…" She waved helplessly her hand through the air.

"He has no timing."

"To say the least. Woe you don't jump immediately when he calls. No matter what you're doing. I cannot try this out in the lab. How shall I explain it to the Professor?"

"Just let it be. Sherlock would not believe it until he had checked it out by himself."

"How are you able to get along with him, John? Really…his genius in all honour, but…" She stopped when she heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. John gave her only an understanding look, then turned to the door through which Sherlock came out of the blue. Irritated he remained in the doorway.

"Where have you been, John? We have something to do." He demanded impatiently.

"So then…" John said as he stood up. "The action is calling." He grinned at Catherine, who smiled back and looked thankful at the tea cups. Then he followed Sherlock out of the door. Just before they left her apartment, Sherlock hesitated and looked back at her.

"Israel." He said barely.

"What?" She blinked confused.

"You can order faked blood in Israel." The curly head replied before he almost disappeared. Catherine stopped breathing and her stomach began to rebel. Dizziness and nausea overran her as she realized what she had just revealed from Sherlock. Cold sweat ran down her back and she tried to calm herself. It was true. It was possible. Oh God! What kind of world was this? Her body trembled and she tried to calm her with deep breaths, but it was unsuccessful.

Her eyes went to the table, where the coups still remained. She slowly got up and suddenly a flu did not sound like a lie anymore. Her limps ached and her head was deserted. What she had just discovered? She was scared. If you could even fake the DNA in what kind of world they lived? In one, where you could no longer believe in Justice. Where each case must be reopened, because it could be a misjudgement. Only the unusual high concentration of leucocyte would make faked blood dividable. How easy it would be to attach a crime to someone? So simple that it grabbed at her like claws. What had she done? Her hand trembled as she picked up the cups carefully and carried them into the kitchen. She washed the dished and stowed them afterwards. Briefly she hesitated, but decided then to distribute the queasy feeling in her stomach by eating something. A view within the fridge got her back into reality. Frustrating. Time management had always been her strength.

Well, it was like that. Catherine went to the dresser, grabbed her jacket, and left her apartment hastily for taking the tube, which was coming in three minutes. She did not notice the eyes following her steps and that her life would be changed by Sherlock and John more than she would ever believe. Much more.