TWO
Just for a change it was bright sunshine outside. After all, John had finally decided to get on with his life even though it meant figuring out how the number nine was related to Sherlock.
"I'm just going down to Barts Mrs. Hudson?" The flat was silent once more but that didn't hinder his pans to go out. In fact this would be the first he had been out in weeks. When he arrived in the lab, there was no-one there but instead of giving up and going home, he went down to the morgue to find Molly fist deep in a dead bodies chest. "Nice" John muttered under his breath. She hadn't looked up but nodded to acknowledge his presence. "Nine" he murmured, "What could it mean?"
"John?" Molly looked up in surprise, "I thought you were just another lab assistant".
"Oh sorry, should have made myself heard, guess my head is clogged up with the thought of the number nine".
"What has the number nine got to do with anything" she replied with a puzzled look upon her face.
"Well nine days after Sherlock's dea…" his voice trailed off, he had been overpowered with emotion after promising himself he wouldn't.
"John, it's okay".
"No, I am fine" he protested as he took a step back with an astonishing look of shock on his face, not realizing the power in his voice. "Well anyway, I have come to the conclusion that the number nine is somehow related to Sherlock".
"John, don't you see, the answer has been staring you in the face the whole time, the number nine isn't even, it's odd and it isn't prime, it's perfect!"
"Two words that perfectly describe Sherlock", but this still didn't explain Sherlock's death as john thought, later that evening when he found Sherlock's harpoon propped against the oven.
