"- and the witness is over there," the police officer said. Sherlock hadn't been listening until up to that point. The police were trying to be helpful. That means that Lestrade told them she was coming.
"Good, good. I need to talk to him. I also need a coffee. I don't care how it is just get me some," Sherlock said as she strode off towards where the officer had pointed. The officer behind her sputtered at her blatantly rude behavior. She could be perfectly nice when she had to. That didn't mean that she was going to. It's much more simple to be rude and still get what she wanted then to try to tactfully get it.
Sherlock made her way through the crowd of policemen and detectives.
"No." Sherlock breathed when she saw the witness. He was short, blonde, was wearing a black jacket and jeans, and held a cane in his hands. John Watson.
Sherlock felt her pace quicken as she adjusted her coat and scarf. She ran a hand through her hair that she had just barely remembered to brush this morning. John turned around and saw her. His face immediately lit up and he ran a hand through his own hair.
Sherlock felt something strange. She hesitated to try figure out what it was. Oh, yes. She was smiling, an honest to goodness smile. Nothing fake. A real smile.
She was standing in front of him.
"Hello Mr. Watson," Sherlock said, still smiling.
"I thought I told you during coffee that you aren't to call me Mr. Watson. It sounds to formal. I insist that you must call me John," He said.
"Well then, hello John."
"Hello Sherlock. I suppose you came to question me," John said.
"Actually I came to see if you wanted to get out of here. I need you to in a more natural environment," Sherlock said, "How about coffee?"
"I'll take tea. Will they let you take me?" John asked.
"If they don't I'll kidnap you," Sherlock said with a promising grin. Suddenly a silver car pulled up. Lestrade and Sally got out of it. Sherlock sighed and rolled her eyes, "They can't leave me alone," She whispered to John. He chuckled softly.
"I wouldn't understand why? I'm sure you're just the perfect model for proper socialization," John said quietly as Lestrade and Sally walked towards them. Sherlock gave a soft snort.
"I'd expect that he'd be nicer to me. I haven't made one comment about him and my sister's love affair," She whispered. Her and John were standing very close, so all she had to do was lean a little bit to whisper right into his ear. He chuckled again, a noise that filled Sherlock with happiness.
"I heard about that. Your DI is practically having an affair with the British Government," John whispered back right before Lestrade stopped right in front of them. He put his hands on his hips and looked from Sherlock to John and back. He handed Sherlock a cup of coffee.
"Really Sherlock? I specifically asked them to let you on their crime scene and you go ahead and insult them. Not to mention you were completely rude, I mean you could have at least said please ya know," Lestrade said to her sternly. John looked over at Sherlock to see how she'd respond.
"Oh, Detective Inspector why would I need to do that. I obviously got my coffee without saying please," She responded as she absentmindedly got out her phone. She started texting someone.
"Did you learn nothing from Myka's lessons on social obligation?" Lestrade asked irritatedly.
"Did you think that you could keep you and Myka's love affair a secret from me?" Sherlock instantly shot back. The silver haired detective's face got red.
"That's not any of your business Sherlock!" He snapped.
"Of course it is. She's my sister," Sherlock said, "Actually it should probably be the business of all of England. After all, if you start to distract my sister... England might fall."
"Get out of here Sherlock. Leave, right now," Lestrade said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sally stood behind him, hands on her hips, lips drawn in a tight line.
"I'm not done questioning the witness," Sherlock said, finally putting her phone back in her pocket.
"Don't you mean flirting, freak?" Sally asked from where she stood. Before any one knew what was happening, John was across the distance between him and Sally. He had grabbed the front of her coat and pulled her face close to his. Sally's eyes were wide, fear obvious in them.
"What makes you think that it is okay to call anyone a freak?!" He spit out, his words sounded like pure venom, "Let alone, the most brilliant woman on Earth. What makes you think that that is acceptable?!" Sally looked absolutely terrified, her knees were starting to give. Some people had turned to watch, all of them were curious, some looked almost scared. Lestrade was dumbfounded. Sherlock was fascinated by the sudden mood swing.
"I-I..." Sally trailed off.
John finally released Sally and stood back. He smiled, he looked as if he had just invited her over for tea. Sally's knees were shaking.
"Have a good day folks. I'm going out with Sherlock for a cuppa," John said as he strode past them. Sherlock smiled and handed Sally her cup of coffee as she followed John.
Someone who can strike fear into the heart of Sally Donovan, her kind of man.
"So," Sherlock said as they ducked under the crime scene tape, "that was unexpected." She heard John chuckle beside her.
"Yeah well, she had it coming," he answered. They walked in silence for a few moments, turning onto a busy street.
John reached over and tugged on Sherlock's wrist to stop her. She jumped at the contact, and pulled her hand away. John tilted his head in question at her reaction but shrugged it off.
"Here's a good place," he said, gesturing at the cafe behind him. Sherlock looked at the sign and nodded.
"The manager owes me a favor," She said simply.
"Really?" He asked as he opened the door for her. A man bumped into him and he mumbled an apology. Sherlock raised an eyebrow in the obvious change in attitude from earlier. They entered the cafe and Sherlock manuevered them to a small table near the window.
"Yeah, I got his son off of death row by proving that he was in the middle of a love affair with his parole officer at the time. It wasn't that hard," Sherlock rambled absentmindedly as she undid her scarf and coat. She was wearing a dark blue blouse and black dress slacks.
"That's amazing," John said as he took off his own coat. They were silent as a busy waitress dropped some menus off at their table and promised to be "right back hons". In companionable silence they looked over their menus. Finally Sherlock had to ask.
"Why?"
"Why what?" John asked looking up from his menu. Sherlock stared at him, obvious confusion on her face.
"Why did you defend me to Sally?"
"Oh, was that that bitch's name? Well you don't deserve to insulted. You're brilliant, beautiful, and observant. She's just jealous," John said. Sherlock's eyebrows knitted together as she silently pondered that. She was about to speak when the waitress showed up.
"Sherlock!" She exclaimed, "Haven't seen you in awhile. How are you?"
"I'm fine... Katy?" Sherlock guessed. The waitress sighed.
"Michelle," she answered tiredly.
"Michelle right. I knew that."
"Sure you did," Michelle answered, rolling her eyes, "Now what can I get ya dear? On the house, for you and your boyfriend."
"Oh, I'm not her boyfriend," John said. Michelle smiled at him a little too sweetly for Sherlock's taste.
"Well it's been so long since we've seen Sherly with anybody, we're just happy to see her her with somebody," Michelle said.
"I'll take coffee, one sugar, no cream," Sherlock said briskly, snapping her menu shut. Michelle nodded and jotted down Sherlock's order. She turned to John.
"And you hon?"
"Yeah, I'll take tea, no sugar, one cream," John said handing her both his and Sherlock's menus.
"Alright hon, I'll be back with your orders," Michelle said with a sweet smile which John returned as she left. John and Sherlock stared at each other from across the table. John smiling, Sherlock staying as placid as usual.
The silence wasn't, as you would say, "companionable". In fact it was downright awkward. Ultimately it was too uncomfortable for John and he cleared his throat.
"So, Sherlock," He began, "you don't have a girlfriend?" He decided to start with that so it didn't seem like he was hitting on her. Which he most certainly was not.
Sherlock rolled her eyes and huffed with annoyance. She turned to look out the window.
"Why does everyone assume that I'm homosexual?" Sherlock asked herself out loud.
"Sorry, it's just that the Waitress sort of implied that you were at least bi," John explained. Sherlock threw him a sideways glance that told him that she wasn't impressed with his excuse,
"The 'implication', as you call it, wasn't obvious enough that just any idiot would pick up on it," Sherlock started robotically, "In fact, 'anybody' could refer to either gender. However, you choose to go for the female gender. That tells me either two things; one, you think that I am interested in you but you are not interested in me so you suggest something else, or two, you are interested in me but don't want to sound interested in me."
John smiled.
"What makes you flatter yourself that I might be interested in you," John asks with a stoic smile. Sherlock turns to him. He could see she was trying not to look smug.
"You showed immediate interest in my relationships when Michelle commented about it. Also you defended my pride earlier. Calling me, and I quote, 'the most brilliant woman on earth'," Sherlock says.
"Tis the mind that makes the body rich," John quoted.
"Shakespeare," Sherlock said promptly.
"Yeah and I'm sure that didn't help to lower the size of your ego any," John comments. Sherlock let a smug smirk slide onto her face.
"Want to come to my place to 'question' me?" John asked.
"I've already solved the case, but sure, why not?" Sherlock said.
"Michelle, can we get those to go?!" John called out to the waitress. She smiled and nodded.
They got their drinks and headed back to John's mansion.
Sooooooooooooooooo? How was it? I seriously don't know. After all a writer is his/hers own worse critic.
Write On
WFFH