Two
OMG first of all I just want to thank absolutely everyone who the first chapter of this story and sent in wonderful reviews. As you have all informed me the next season has finished in England and is about to start here in Australia so I really want this little sucker to get a wriggle on so all the juicy new gossip can begin and I can once again dazzle and delight my masses. So now onto the show… enjoy!
Charlie POV:
With only the slightest apprehension the four walked into the apartment and saw...a single pair of rather faded old shoes. Charlie quirked a brow.
"Oh that's anti-climatic." She mused and moved forwards to allow the men a better look.
"He's a bomber remember." John, ever the mouth of caution, said as Sherlock stepped forwards past Charlie and crouched beside the trainers. The entire room seemed to hold their breath as he leaned forwards… the phone in his hand went off. Charlie felt her heart seize slightly within her chest as he pressed the loudspeaker button.
"Hello?" He said darkly and Charlie frowned, perhaps irritability was not the way to go when handling bombing negotiations.
"H-Hello, s-sexy. I've sent you a little puzzle." The voice was that of the woman. She was sobbing as she spoke. Charlie moved forwards and grabbed the phone.
"Why are you crying?" She asked gently and more sobs sounded over the line.
"I'm not c-crying, I'm typing…" Came the stunted reply. For a moment there was nothing whilst the poor woman broke down making even Sherlock look slightly worried. She continued though, in a fragile voice.
"And this stupid b-bitch is reading it out. 12 hours to s-solve my puzzle Sherlock, or I'm going to be so naughty." She gave one final sob and the phone went dead. Charlie stared at the pink phone in her hand and then down at the shoes. She slapped it back into Sherlock's hand and gave him a dry smirk.
"You can use the lab at St. Bart's, I'll get you in." She said confidently and turned to leave the apartment, followed closely by the men.
"Please Thalia, it's extremely important." Charlie begged her supervisor causing the older, ex-Australian citizen to sigh.
"I'd feel better about letting that man in if I knew exactly what he would be doing in there." She said worriedly, the thick Aussie accent she hadn't lost during her time in England echoing around the basement level.
"As I said, he's on a case and for all I know involving you could put you in harm's way… please Thalia?" She asked desperately and finally the tall, tanned blonde nodded.
"Use what you want, just clean up after you're done." She commanded and Charlie nodded. She turned and whistled for the boys to hurry up. The two men trouped into the lab as Thalia walked out. She nodded at John and simply quirked a brow at Sherlock who carried a plastic bag in which he'd dumped the sneakers from the flat. Charlie planted herself down in a stool and grabbed a stack of files, she had a feeling Sherlock would be taking his time with this one and while she was at work she might as well do something. John muttered something about coffee and disappear in the direction she pointed towards. Silence fell over the lab.
It was about two hours later whilst he was examining shoe laces and comparing pollen samples on the computer that she finally got bored.
"Anything yet?" She asked and he barely looked up.
"Hmm." He muttered and she sighed pushing the final file into the out tray and standing. That little noise could have meant anything so she decided to make it a no. John sat opposite Sherlock tapping his fingers on the counter top, a cup of stone cold coffee in front of him. Sherlock's phone beeped. He didn't move.
"Can you get that?" He asked and she huffed in annoyance.
"Where is it?" She asked and he shifted slightly.
"Pocket." He said and she rolled her eyes. The lazy son of a bitch.
"Please." He muttered quietly and she was grateful when John seemed to still be lost in his thoughts. She nodded and walked over to where he sat scanning. She reached into the inner lining of his jacket, after a moments appreciation and searching, pulled out his phone. She pressed a few buttons to bring up the message.
"It's Mycroft. He's sent you...eight more texts." She announced amusedly. Sherlock snorted.
"Delete them." He said and John finally came alive.
"They might be important." He said and Sherlock smirked into the computer screen.
"Then why didn't he cancel his dental appointment?" Sherlock demanded sharply and Charlie whacked him lightly on the shoulder. "What?" John asked, confused now. Charlie simply rolled her eyes for the second time in under a minute. She gave John a pitying look.
"Mycroft as far as I can tell never texts if he can talk. Unlike Mr Antisocial over here, the elder Holmes seems to be an excellent conversationalist." She said teasingly and even she wasn't prepared for the slight growl that issued from the consulting detective. She held up her hands in mock surrender and replaced the phone. The door opened behind them and Charlie turned just in time to see Molly enter with a man, a man that she recognised instantly. Her hand was midway through putting Sherlock's phone back in his pocket and she hurriedly ripped it out to take a few stumbling steps towards the newcomers.
"Hi Molly." She called and the brunette smiled brightly. The man grinned at her and Charlie couldn't help but return to mockingly, a raised eyebrow asking him what the hell he was doing here. He shrugged nonchalantly.
"Hi Charlie." Molly said happily and turned to introduce the man to the other men in the room. Charlie cut her off at the quick.
"This is Sherlock Holmes and..."
"John Watson." John said smoothly, waving slightly from his position.
"They're the flatmates I told you about." Charlie continued and once again her cousin grinned.
"Sherlock this is Jim, he works in IT upstairs, office romance." Molly giggled slightly and Sherlock looked up momentarily and then back down at his work, only to pause and look up again. His expression morphed into one of shock when he stared between Charlie and Jim who wore identical grins. Finally she could stand it no more.
"I believe we already knew that, Jim is my cousin." Charlie announced and Molly faulted slightly, looking over at Jim questioningly. He nodded and walked forwards to wrap his arms around Charlie. She embraced him tightly and stepped back… to punch him hard on the arm. He looked wounded.
"What was that for?" He asked, his hazy Irish-American accent sounding quaint in the still lab air. She frowned.
"Francis." She said simply and turned away.
"Gay." Sherlock announced suddenly. Charlie paused and then kicked him violently on the shin beneath the table. He glared at her before returning his attention back to his work.
"What?" Molly demanded.
"Hey." He said somewhat unconvincingly, smiling at Jim. The other man simply stood there smiling. Charlie thought he looked a little tired but otherwise exactly the same as when she'd last seen him.
"So you're Sherlock Holmes! Molly's told me all about you! Are you on one of your cases then?" He asked and when Sherlock didn't answer Charlie nodded. Jim walked over and 'tripped', slipping his number under a silver dish. Her eyes flashed wide but she wisely said nothing, letting the moment pass. He was her cousin, her only remaining family and if that was his preference than she wouldn't spurn him. It was however too bad Sherlock didn't bat for that team, she thought with a satisfied smirk.
"Well I'd best be off then, see you at the Fox tonight Molls?" He asked and she nodded.
"It was nice meeting you." He called over his shoulder before blowing a kiss at Charlie who smiled and waved him away. Sherlock didn't answer again, John spoke for him.
"You too." Jim turned and left.
"Go n-éirí leat a col ceathrar." He called over his shoulder and she smiled.
"Go n-eiri leat a col ceathrar. Ta gra agam duit." She returned. The moment he was gone Molly glared at Sherlock.
"What do you mean gay? He's not gay! We're together!" She screamed and he simply sighed.
"With that level of personal grooming?" He demanded.
"So he uses product in his hair? I do that!" John said defiantly, noting that Charlie had suddenly become very quiet. The woman in turn simply sat down and pretended this conversation wasn't happening, staring at the computer screen determinately.
"You wash your hair, no he had tinted eyebrows, touring finger around the frown lines...then there's his underwear." Sherlock continued.
"Underwear?" Molly demanded sharply.
"Visible, highly visible, very particular brand. That and the highly suggestive fact that he just left his number under this dish," He removed said number with a flourish. At this point Charlie was wishing he'd shut up and go die in a hole.
"So I suggest you break it off and save yourself the pain." He finished smugly making Molly storm out of the room in tears. Sherlock shrugged and turned back to the computer only to find Charlie staring at him angrily. She slapped him hard across the face, leaving an angry red mark. He stared at her in shock, his hand rising to the mark instinctively.
"Sherlock! There are times when you don't know when to shut the fuck up!" She said steely and he scoffed, the glare in his cold blue eyes making her want to cry.
"Oh don't give me that, you knew he was gay." He said and she flinched.
"Yes Sherlock, I knew he was gay! However there are times and places for revealing private information about a person's partner and that was certainly not it. Do you have no consideration at all for Molly's feelings or are you so wound up in being right all the time that you forget about the rest of us mortals?" She said calmly but furiously, her own glare making him shrink back slightly. They glared at each other until the computer beeped and their gazes shot to the screen.
"He was from Sussex." She said tightly and sat back down on her stool without another word.
"John look at the shoes, what do you think?" Sherlock asked and the ex-military doctor looked between his two friends tensely before answering.
"I'm not going to make an idiot of myself. Ask Charlie." He said and the female smirked slightly but shook her head, indicating for him to give it a go.
"Come on John, I can't hold your hand all the time." She said.
"That's never stopped you before." He muttered and sighed when Sherlock simply pointed towards the shoes. John picked one up and began to observe it slowly.
"Well it's very eighties...maybe one of those retro brands? Adult sizing...but there's felt tip on the inside, adults don't write their names on their shoes." He said slowly and Charlie grinned at his try, only to frown when hserlock cut him short.
"Well you're on sparkling form. You got almost everything wrong of course but it was a good try. Charlotte, analyse the shoe if you will." He commanded and she rolled her eyes.
"That was a good try John; you were at least right about the felt pen… hang on." She said and whipped out her phone to begin typing something in before nodding to herself. She bit her lip.
"Limited edition two blue stripes, 1989. They've been whitened and the person who owned them had eczema. There are traces of a name..." She said but try as she might she could not read the smeared name. She squinted a little more, her eyes widened as she dropped the shoe on to the surface of the table with an audible 'thunk'.
"Charlotte, are you okay?" Sherlock asked stiffly, still obviously smarting from the slap she'd given him.
"Carl Powers." She whispered and felt him stiffen beside her.
"What?" John asked.
Sherlock POV:
Sherlock couldn't believe it. Carl Powers. How hadn't he seen it sooner? The mark on his cheek was still stinging slightly but the pain was actually refreshing in the way it kept his mind from straying too much while he worked. Charlotte was still staring at the dropped shoes in shock.
"A boy had a fit in a pool. I remember knowing something was wrong. No one believed me… I had just survived major surgery after a fatal collision with a semi-trailer and everyone thought I was still in shock." She said stiffly and Sherlock looked over again and saw the tear roll down from her eye. He hated it when she cried. Ignoring the fight they'd had earlier he leaned closer to touch her cheek lightly. Her eyes were wide but there was something else in those depths, something that looked incredibly like… guilt. What would she have to feel guilty about?
"Let's go, we've done everything we can now." He said swiftly and stood, drawing her along behind him as he vacated the now silent lab.
John POV: Haven't had one of these in a while
As the trio sat in a taxi John realised just how perceptive his friends were. Sherlock had been fourteen and Charlotte ten, already brilliant at this detective work and confident in their knowledge that it was murder. For God's sake Sherlock had even noticed the lack of the boy's shoes!
"You started young didn't you?" He asked and Charlotte nodded.
"Yes. Francis and I were shipped all around the foster care system before we finally settled with the Karen and Timothy. All that travelling time never really let me get close to any one my own age so I simply divulged into what I was good at… solving puzzles." She said sadly and turned her attention out the window.
"I'd only heard about this one in the papers… I was in Essex at the time." She recalled with a bitter smile, obviously lost in memories.
"So the killer kept the shoes all these years?" John asked and the two nodded.
"He started young too." Charlotte said stiffly and her hands clenched, the knuckles glowing white in the dim of the cab. John watched in amusement as his friend slipped an unconscious hand forwards to grasp it. The pair seemed to instantly relax. Dear God, why hadn't he seen it before… Sherlock was attempting a reassuring smile and as he watched John could see Charlotte's returned expression seemed to take years away from her face. Her eyes lit up from within and the shallow lines around her eyes faded away. Her features literally glowed and he could see Sherlock was struck as well by the change. She looked much prettier when she smiled. He knew his friend found her attractive but whether or not the pair of idiots did something about it was another story altogether. He would be there to say he told them so.
Sherlock POV:
They dissected the shoe and pinned it on a makeshift washing line in the kitchen. As he stared at the case study wall Charlotte and John simultaneously pulled their phones from their pockets. He turned to look at them and she held up a thin finger as she eyed the screen. He peered over his shoulder and nearly gagged on his tongue.
Charlotte,
I am convinced that my brother is purposely ignoring my messages. If it is not too much to ask of you I would appreciate it if you would you remind him that the case I have informed him of is of national importance. I do not wish to intrude and apologise for any inconvenience.
I hope you are well,
Mycroft Holmes.
She was smiling at the Mycroft's text message. He smirked at the fact that the damn things were written like formal invitations to the Queen, shrouded in his brother's infamous bullshit/manners. However his smirk was wiped off when he saw her reply.
Mycroft,
I am unsure of how you managed to get this number (personally I do not care as long as it remains confidential) however seeing as you have asked so nicely I will remind him of your case as soon as time will allow.
Regards,
Charlotte Myers.
Sherlock noticed her smile as she pressed send and look up at him. Her eyes clouded over and she shrugged nonchalantly as she returned the phone to her pocket.
"What was that?" He asked stiffly and she rolled her eyes.
"Your brother is texting us now. He asks to remind you that the Bruce/Parkington case is of national importance." She informed him and smiled as she turned to face the wall, firmly dismissing the matter and his obvious frown.
"How did he get my number? How did he get yours?" John asked and Charlie simply chuckled.
"Well he's related to Sherlock, John." She said and the man nodded, tapping himself mockingly upon the forehead in a 'duh' kind of way. Sherlock frowned.
"I would appreciate it if the pair of you didn't place me in the same boat at him." Sherlock said and Charlie saluted half-heartedly, that smile still on her face. John just shrugged. Sherlock scowled. How dare she smile at Mycroft's texts. She never smiled at his. Damn. Whenever he sent her one, he'd often get a reply telling him to –insert own word here- off or to look behind the fridge. Granted that had only been since he placed a nest full of spiders under her bed for an experiment of adrenalin but still… smiling? At Mycrofts texts? He looked over at the mirror on the wall and the angle caught the small mark on the base of his neck he'd been puzzling over since he'd first seen it. It had seemed to be a bite mark and yet, he couldn't remember anyone coming close enough to bite him there. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts he focused on what John was trying to say to him.
"Sherlock?" John asked pointedly and he sighed.
"I'm putting my best workers on Mycroft's case right now." He said and John looked relieved.
"Who are they?" He asked and Sherlock grinned. He indicated to the door. Charlotte sighed and grabbed her coat.
"You owe me big for this." She said and he smiled.
"How about a round of drink's next time we go out?" He teased and enjoyed the small flush it brought to her too pale cheeks just a little too much. He loved it when she blushed.
John POV:
He led them into the office and Charlotte smiled. Mycroft was seated at his desk and looked up at them expectantly.
"I'm sorry Sherlock couldn't be here, you know him. Fortunately you got the next best thing." She said confidently and sat down opposite him. John followed her lead, eager to be out of this place as soon as possible. Mycroft smiled slightly and nodded as she pulled out a notepad. She frowned at the page before looking up at Sherlock's brother irritably.
"So if you could just give us some more background info on the dead man?" John said as Charlotte nodded, clicking her pen. Mycroft nodded, looking relieved that some investigation was going to take place.
"27, Clerk at Vauxhall Cross, MI6. Involved in the program in a minor way, security checks a-okay, no known terrorist affiliations or sympathies, last seen by his fiancé at 10:30 yesterday evening. Found on the tracks of Battersea but didn't buy a ticket. Is that enough for now?" He said softly and Charlotte smiled as she finished writing.
"Thank you Mycroft. If this new case we've got going doesn't kill us than we'll try to get back to you as soon as we can." She said seriously and stood. Mycroft looked slightly peeved.
"National security Miss Myers." He reminded her and she shrugged.
"Mr. Holmes I'm a foster care survivor, trust me when I say that my care package for nation security dried up a long time ago." She said smartly and John coughed. She looked over at him and he frowned at her intensely. She sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Apologies Mycroft. John come on." She said stiffly and stood to walk to the door. Suddenly she stoped. She walked over to where Mycroft sat and extended her hand. He glanced at it for a long moment before extending his own and shaking it firmly. She grinned and it seemed any harboured misgivings she'd had about him were wiped away.
"Take care and I hope your mouth feels better soon." She said before walking out. John stood after a moment and nodded politely. Mycroft, who was still staring after his flat mate simply waved him away.
"Send my regards to...whatever her name is today."
"Andromeda." Came the instant reply and he smiled.
"Good day Mycroft." As they sat in the taxi Charlotte checked the watch on her right wrist and sighed. 3 hours left.
Sherlock POV:
Sherlock was crouched over a microscope when they got back. He could hear Charlotte's shoes clacking softly on the stairs as she and John mounted them. Her aunt was bustling around the kitchen in an annoying way. As the pair walked in he suddenly made the connection to the shoes and joy rushed through him.
"Poison!" He shouted and sent the flustered Mrs Hudson out of the room as he leapt upright. Charlotte walked in a quirked an eyebrow at his cheerful expression.
"Sherlock, we've talked about this… what have I always told you about spontaneous outbursts about various methods of murder?" She teased as she leant against the fridge door, checking it momentarily to test the saliva of the head inside. He looked questioningly and she gave him the thumbs up. Strike two for the greatest consulting detective in the world!
"Clostridium botulinum! The deadliest poison on the face of the Earth! It was simple; the killer introduced it into his eczema cream!" Sherlock said happily and sat down to type furiously on his blog. He felt her come up behind him and her hands rested lightly on his shoulders as she read the import.
"What are you doing?" She asked curiously.
"Putting it on the blog, let the killer know, stop the clock." He announced and she 'oh'ed appreciatively. Not two seconds after pressing send the pink phone on the desk rang. Her could still feel her hands on his shoulders as he pressed loud speaker and they waited with bated breath.
"Hello?"
"Well...d-done. C-come and g-get me." The woman said tearfully and he felt Charlotte relax, her fingers giving his tense muscles a squeeze. He supressed a groan at the sensation and fought to keep his cool. After they hung up the phone Charlotte leaned in close to his ear.
"All your cac is forgiven. Well done Sherlock." She whispered and he sighed. Another squeeze on his shoulders and she was gone. He stared after her, wondering why he felt the urge to call her back and kiss her senseless. Shaking his head he waited… there were more beeps to go yet. He glanced once more towards Charlotte only to find John standing in the door way smirking.
"Shut up." He said and the man raised his hands in surrender.
"I never said anything." He supplied logically and Sherlock felt his urge change to a more violent spectrum. John smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked to the fridge, via the laptop, and opened it. He didn't jump or scream at the head again but sighed and pulled out the milk.
"When are y-…"
"Don't go there." Sherlock cut in and John smirk broadened.
"As I was going to say… when are you going to head down to the station, those beeps are still forthcoming and you know it." He said and Sherlock quirked an eyebrow.
"I'm not just a pretty face you know, got to at least try to keep up with you two geniuses." He said and a faint sound could be heard from the depths of the apartment. Sherlock stood and walked to the door, John behind him. A moment later Charlotte appeared looking a little tired and worried. She glanced up at them and smiled.
"Let's go, Lestrade's going to have apoplexy when he realises I'm not there yet." She said and the two men chuckled. They trouped out of the apartment and hailed a cab.
They stood around in Scotland Yard not half an hour later, half the force watching the exchange.
"The woman was attacked by masked men, driven to a car park and decked out in enough explosives to take down a house!" Lestrade explained and Charlotte nodded.
"Where's she from?" She asked, surveying the room with distain.
"Cornwall apparently." The DI said and she nodded.
"Why is he doing this?" Lestrade asked, rubbing his eyebrows wearily.
"Well I can't be the only person in the world who gets bored." Sherlock said and Charlotte smiled.
"True but hopefully you're the only one that fires an abstract smilie face into a wall with a pistol." She said smartly and he glared at her. She simply rolled her eyes are tried to focus. He rolled his eyes in return and the phone beeped. He looked down at the surface and frowned.
"It's a slide show." He said confusedly.
"Plug it in to the mainframe." Lestrade ordered and he did. A message appeared on the screen.
Well, well, well. Aren't you a clever boy?
The text rolled across the screen.
Now for a special treat. A step in to the past.
Confused looks were thrown around the room as a video began to roll.
"Session 1,090, Dr. Simon Kelsey with Patient 240057. Alright Miss Myers… how are you feeling today?" A calm, scholastic voice asked from off screen as it brightened to reveal a much younger Charlotte. Her hair was significantly longer, her eyes were huge in her teenage face with massive circles beneath them and the bones of her features stuck out sorely in the whitewash video room.
Sherlock went rigid with horror. No, they couldn't do this to her. He could feel Charlotte going stiff with shock and terror.
"No, please no." She begged quietly and turning he saw her burying her face into her hands.
"Miss Myers you've been a patient at this facility for almost three years… in all this time you have never admitted anything in these sessions worth evaluation." The doctor continued and the video Charlotte rolled her eyes boredly. She fixed whoever it was behind the screen with a glare that would have split the bastard in half if it were made of steel.
"Perhaps Doctor, that's because there is nothing to say worth evaluating. Let's be serious, I do not belong here." She said calmly but with the air of someone who'd said this same line repetitively but to no avail. She shifted in the chair and a chink of metal could be heard. Lazily she rested in her chair.
"Let's start with your family." The doctor said and a thin crimson eyebrow was raised.
"Which one, the dead one or the psychos that put me in this hell hole?" She asked spitefully and the man chuckled.
"Your choice." He said but she buttoned up.
"I hear you brother Francis isn't doing well… in your last call to him you were speaking about his 'issues' do you worry about him Miss Myers?" The Doctor asked and Charlotte's lips twitched slightly.
"Oh course, he's my brother." She said and the doctor kept going.
"Yes but you're in here, recovering… surely it would be more beneficial for you to let your parnets look out for him." The man said and Charlotte snorted.
"That drunk bitch I'm supposed to call mother wouldn't know where Francis was if he stood in front of her." She said tartly and stared down into her lap.
"Miss Myers your mother put you in here for your protection…"
"She put me in here because she couldn't control me!" Charlotte yelled suddenly.
"She put me in here because she too damn drunk to know which way is up at the best of times and it's too much responsibility to look out for a 15 year old with sociopathic tendencies!" She screamed and tried to stand.
"You sit there with that smug smirk and think you know everything but you don't know a bloody thing!" She yelled and struggled again her restraints.
"Security!" The doctor called calmly. Charlotte began to scream as two men came into the room.
Beside Sherlock Charlotte had begun to shake violently. Her face was alive with horror as she stared into the screen. The people in the room were all looking between her and the images, their faces alight with curiousity at best and amusement at worst. She stared up at Sherlock and her eyes were full of tears.
"Make it stop Sherlock. Please make it stop!" she begged as the screaming got louder.
"Stop it Letsrade!" He bellowed and the DI jumped.
"You know I can't, it might impede evidence." He said but his mouth was drawn tight and he too was staring at Charlotte in glorified horror.
"I'm sorry." He muttered and turned away. Sherlock scowled and crouched down beside a now almost catatonic Charlotte who was leaning back against the desk, her head in her arms. He put an arm around her shoulders and she instinctively leant against him.
"Thank you." She murmured and he sighed, holding her closer.
The guards were taking her away and she was spitting and screaming at them all. Her tightly held arms were swinging unrelentingly until a jab to the neck with a sedative sent her out immediately.
"Take her back to her room. She's finished for today." The doctor said calmly and the room went silent as Charlotte's limp form was drgged out.
"Doctor's note, Patient 240057 displayed violent behaviour again. Mentionings of family and denial of metal incapability furthering her stay at the clinic for another two months… reevaluation inevitable but unlikely to lessen the period, Kelsey out."
The film stopped and the screen went blank as Sherlock ripped it from the camera wire with a strange growl. He glared at the office workers who quickly turned to begin filing whatever was handy away. Charlotte was helped up and into a chair. He walked over and she looked up at him. She smiled thinly, her eyes strangely puffy and red from her tears. He groaned, it was the second time today she'd been in tears over something involved with this case and hell or high water he was going to solve it for her.
"Charlie, do you have any idea how they got that film?" He asked gently and she shook her head slowly. Lestrade frowned around the room.
"All right everybody out now!" He ordered and the room dispersed rapidly. Charlotte sent him a grateful look which he simply waved off with an apologetic smile. He walked over, handing her a cup of tea.
"I'm sorry Charlotte, I really am." He said and she struggled to smile shakily.
"It's not your fault Lestrade, how could we have known that bastard had those tapes... hell Sherlock didn't even know." She joked lamely and shrugged.
"It's mine." She continued softly and took a small sip of her tea. Sherlock scowled.
"No it bloody well is not." He was about to continue when the phone buzzed again. Four beeps sounded through the now nearly empty room and he showed them the picture, a car.
"I'll run the plate, see if it's missing." Lestrade said and left the trio to it. John was instantly beside her, his arm around her shoulders. She sighed gratefully and returned the hug.
"Thanks John." She said softly and he grinned.
"Heck, you were feisty back then too weren't you?" He said and she chuckled softly.
"I bit him the next time, I was put on probation for nearly a week before I was released." She said with a slight frown.
"I'll never know whether it was because I turned eighteen or because they thought me cured." She mused and looked up as Donavan entered the room. She held the phone out towards Sherlock and pausing to throw a look that could be translated as a pitiful smile towards Charlie.
"It's for you." She said to Sherlock who nodded and grabbed it.
"I see you've stolen a new voice...speak to me in your own voice then..."
Sherlock hung up the phone and John looked up from where he had been sitting beside Charlotte, a hopeful expression on his face.
"Charli- otte, are you okay to keep going?" Sherlock asked pensively and she nodded.
"To be honest I'm pissed off Sherlock. He knows who I am! He has tapes that I'm fairly sure were destroyed in a fire I set a couple years ago… I am still sorry about that." She said bemusedly and shook her head.
"And he's using them to get to you Charlotte, which means he must have knowledge of all of us… specifically you." Sherlock said and she flinched.
"But why me?" She demanded.
"Why the fuck would he want to get to me, I'm no one… my only claim to fame is you and you're a sociopathic consulting detective that I happen to share a flat with." She said quietly. He pretended that last comment hadn't hurt, but it had. He sighed and looked around the small room.
"Well then let's catch this bastard. Because when we do I'm going to break his face." She said bitterly and rubbed her arms as though fighting off a chill. Lestrade walked in, seemingly nervous.
"Car was hired by an Ian Monkford. Paid in cash. It's been found by the river." Lestrade said breathlessly and Sherlock looked over at Charlotte. She smiled and stood; all traces of her past distress gone as she straightened her clothes and headed to the door. She paused and looked back at them from the door.
"Coming?" She asked primly and they scrambled after her.
Translations
Go n-éirí leat a col ceathrar- Farewell my cousin (as in the first cousin)
Cac- Shit (do not use this and then say you got it from me please)
Hurray another one bites the dust! Keep those reviews coming and I'll be sure to keep the updates frequent as possible. Love to all.