I'M BACK. Since this story is still on the site after a while, I decided to update it. (Just so you know, on my deviant art there's 3 chapters posted instead of two. So you might want to read it there.)
As always, I hope you enjoy this!
She climbed in behind the driver, while John sat beside her. "221B Baker St please." He told the cabbie.
The car started on its journey, while John started a conversation. "So Miss (L/N), what do you think about this situation so far?" He asked solemnly.
(F/N) shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure what to think. I've never come across anything like this." She answered.
"With the cases that Sherlock takes on this kind of stuff is normal." John pointed out. "But there's definitely never a dull moment."
"I suppose you've been used to excitement all your life then. Usually the ones that don't have excitement won't even bother talking to Sherlock."
"What excitement? This whole mess started when I met him."
"You've been around danger before you met him though."
John paused for a moment, raising his eyebrows with curiosity. "And how do you suppose that?"
(F/N) smiled. "I don't suppose; I know. Just look at your hands. It's as plain as day. You were a soldier in a war, as well as a war doctor. Not that hard to figure out."
John closed his eyes and chuckled. (F/N) wondered if what she had said was completely wrong. She tilted her head to the side in confusion. As his laughter calmed down, he looked back up at her. "Oh, that's rich." He said quietly.
"What's rich?" She interrogated.
"That's what Sherlock first said to me when we first met."
(F/N) rolled her eyes, and moved her gaze to stare out the window. "I'm not surprised."
The doctor sighed. "So, then," he began. "are you like him?"
"Like who?"
"Sherlock. A 'high-functioning sociopath' as he puts it."
(F/N) shrugged. "That's the one thing I've never been exactly sure of. My observing skills are better that a normal person's, I know that much, yet I don't have as many quirks; if you can call them that; as Sherlock does." She confessed. "And before you ask, I'm not another consulting detective."
John laughed once more. "Yet the more you talk, the more you remind me of him."
(F/N) couldn't say anything else, being cut off by the cabbie stopping the car and announcing that they had arrived. John and (F/N) both climbed out of the car; the army doctor paying the man, and the car driving off. (F/N) stared up at the building; noticing it looked too normal for a person like Sherlock, but then again, John also lived there. He led the way up to the door and held it open. "Ladies first." He said.
(F/N) stepped through the doorframe, but stopped to wait for John, who followed soon after. He led the way up the staircase and through the flats front door. The first thing that caught (F/N)'s eye was the skull sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. "Curious" She thought, but paid it no mind. Looking around a bit more, she noticed some boxes cluttered in the corner of the flat. All in all, it was a very quaint place. "John!" Came Sherlock's voice from somewhere else in the flat. "I need a favor!"
John sighed heavily and answered. "What now?" He asked as he followed the voice.
This left (F/N) standing alone in an unknown flat with two men she barely even knew. She went over to the skull and lightly brushed her fingers over the top. "That's a friend." Sherlock's voice came from directly behind her.
(F/N) jumped slightly and slowly turned around to face him. "What?" She interrogated; her nerves beginning to crack.
"A friend. Well…I say friend…" He mumbled, and took a few steps back.
(F/N) finally got a good look at her co-worker. Possibly thirties, tall and lanky, although fit. Dark wavy mop of hair accentuating his grey eyes. He wore basic suit pants and polished shoes, complete with a collared dark purple button up shirt. (F/N) wasn't amused. "What am I doing here?" She asked flatly.
"For tea, of course. Plus, I need you for something. John, another favor, can you get miss (L/N) here a cup of tea. I need to fetch something."
She could hear John coming in from the other room. He looked at (F/N). "I guess you can make yourself at home. Do you like Earl Grey?"
(F/N) sat on the nearest chair, and crossed her legs. "Just a small one would be nice, thank you. Is he always like that?"
"Yes, although this is one of his slow days."
She looked down and fiddled with her fingers, John came back into the room with a cup of warm tea in his hands, and carefully handed it to (F/N). A few moments later Sherlock returned to the room with a thick suitcase, which he placed on the table and opened it up. He removed what looked like to be a microscope. Setting it up, he held his free hand out to (F/N). She looked him up and down with a completely confused facial expression. "What?" She asked again.
"The bracelet."
(F/N) breath caught in her throat. How could he possibly have known that she had taken the bracelet? Oh yeah, because he's Sherlock Holmes. There was no way that she could possibly try to outsmart him now that he knew. (F/N) stared at Sherlock and his hand. He glanced up at her eyes. He spread his fingers wide and put extra emphasis on his hand. She sighed and stuck her hand in her pocket, only to draw it out not a second later, revealing the small metal plate bracelet. Sherlock snatched it out of her hand and swiftly put it under the microscope. "How'd you figure that I took it?" (F/N) asked anyways, already knowing the answer.
"Pfft." He scoffed. "Did you really believe that I wouldn't notice? For a woman of your; can I say stature; you're awfully unobservant Miss (L/N)."
"Can you all stop with the 'Miss (L/N)' already? It's getting annoying. If you really need to call me something, call me (F/N)."
"Ah so that's your first name. I wondered. Lovely, now I don't need to spend as much time talking."
(F/N) groaned. "Prick." She said under her breath.
"Please do be quiet (F/N) you're disturbing the peace. I'm trying to figure this out."
She stood up and walked over to Sherlock, towering over his sitting form. "Maybe if you would let me have a look like I would have done back at my flat, it would have been cleared up by now." (F/N) told him arrogantly.
"How would you go about this then?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.
(F/N) snatched the bracelet out from the machine, and went over to the sink. A few drops of soap later and the turn of the faucet knob, she had the bracelet swimming in soapy water. At seeing this, Sherlock freaked. He stood a little too quickly and knocked over the chair. "Before you say anything," (F/N) stopped him. "you might want to consider the fact that you need to clean it of any debris first." She informed him.
(F/N) then took out the bracelet and wiped it clean with a nearby napkin. She brought it back over to the seat where she was previously sitting, and held the bracelet in the lamplight. "By any chance do either of you have any shaving cream? Or something like it?" (F/N) questioned out loud, not yet averting her gaze. "Or maybe a paper and pencil would be easier to find. Either is fine."
John stepped over and handed her a scrap of paper and a freshly sharpened pencil. "Thank you John." She said, then laid the paper on top of the metal, and proceeded to rub the pencil to-and-fro across the paper. Letters began to appear where the pencil skipped over the shallow grooves. Once (F/N) was done, she looked the paper over. It was still hard to read, but this version was able to be read by the naked eye. "'Carter…Holland.' And there's a heart after the name. I believe we have the name of the victims spouse." She announced with a smirk on her face.
Sherlock was dumbstruck, but impressed nonetheless. Casting that thought out of his mind; he continued to think about the case. "John, I'm going to city hall. I need to find the wife of Carter Holland. I'll be back soon." He announced, grabbing his coat and scarf, then went on his way.
(F/N) sighed, and switched out the bracelet in her hand for her cup of tea, and took a sip. "Does he always do that?" She questioned John.
He nodded in response. "All the time."
Please review! It gives me a lot of support to keep going!
