A/N: The Idiots, because Sherlock is involved. Need I say more?
Oh my gosh, my lovely, lovely, amazingly, fantastically, brilliantly awesome followers, I'm so sorry this took so long! I just had a severe case of writer's block, and then, of course, they day my writer's block is lifted, I was bombarded with homework for about two weeks. But finally! IT HAS ARRIVED! THE (NOT-SO-)MUCH ANTICIPATED CHAPTER FOUR! I promise that I'll try to have the next chapter up soon, since I already know how it will start, as well as key components for upcoming chapters, but with school started again and everything, I can't tell exactly when.
Anyway! Enough of my babbling! Please enjoy the chapter and please, please review!
"Idiots."
DI Lestrade and John sighed as Sherlock turned around. His first, and so far only, word since he had arrived had been "Idiots," which he said as soon as he saw the body.
"How are you so sure already? You've hardly even been here for a whole minute!" Anderson complained. "You can't be sure yet, not even you, 'The Great Sherlock Holmes'!"
So Sherlock went right up to him, leaned down (very much invading his personal space- their noses were almost touching) and said, "You're all complete and utter idiots," and turned and headed back to the body.
"Fine then, if you wouldn't mind explaining to us idiots why-" Anderson began, but was cut off by Sherlock.
"That's not an 'X', you fools, it's the Christian cross!" he shouted as he pulled up a picture on his mobile. "The kind of person you're looking for is a very religious type, probably thinks he's carrying out his god's word killing those who he thinks have sinned greatly. Give me a few more minutes with the scene, and I can tell you even more."
And whenever he wasn't looking at his mobile (which he wasn't as soon as he showed around the picture), he was staring a rather upset looking Anderson straight in the eye.
Anderson then tore off his gloves angrily, and left the room, leaving Sherlock to his deductions.
And that was exactly what Sherlock did. He kept on with his deductions.
As Sherlock went on, John busied himself examining the room to see if he could find any evidence of some sort that the forensics team would be bound to miss (especially if Anderson was on forensics).
The crime scene itself was a rather small flat.
The door to the flat had a hallway directly in front of it, and stretched out slightly farther than the walls of the hallway on either side with a single door on each side.
The door to the left of the main door led to a normal sized loo with a shower and tub. The door to the right had a small bedroom, decorated for a small boy, around the age of nine or ten.
In the hallway, the set of doors on the left led to the master bedroom and a bedroom for a teenage girl beside it. It was filled with posters of bands like One Direction (which John scoffed at) and yet also people like Olympic diver, Tom Daley (which John smirked at).
On the adjacent side of the hall, the doors led to a general living area with a navy blue and white carpet and a moss green sofa. Directly in front of the couch and right next to a window, there was a television set on a small table with several devices beneath it. There was another door leading to the kitchen and dining area. There was a small stove and oven, and on the counter beside it was a small microwave oven, and next to that there was a toaster oven. There were some small cupboards both above and below the countertop, and a few drawers. There was a small, rectangular wooden table, much like John and Sherlock's own table, only slightly smaller.
The body itself was on a table at the very end of the hallway, laid out on a table completely void of any other objects. Its legs from the knees down were dangling off the longer edge of the table. The body was completely naked except for a pair of plain white pants and, strangely, a pair of socks. Beside On the far left of the room was a dresser with pictures and small objects on top of it, which stood next to a small closet filled with old baby clothes, ugly Christmas jumpers (that John would probably wear anyway), and other things that would either never or rarely be used again.
To the far right of the room lay a desk with a few items that seemed to be for someone's work. There was a small table across from the desk with some drawers, and a few simple things on it, such as a hairbrush, a picture, and a small mirror. The bottom drawer was slightly ajar, and John took out a pair of latex gloves which he now always had on him now, never knowing when he would need to run out last minute for a case with Sherlock. He snapped on the gloves, and opened the drawer, finding an old picture of what appeared to be the victim and his husband kissing on their wedding day. He looked at the top of the table, and noticed that the picture was, in fact, a newer picture of the two men.
John put the picture back in the drawer and, content with his observations (which he knew were not nearly as brilliant as Sherlock's deductions, but could still be helpful), went back to where Sherlock was finishing up observing the body.
"Okay, so?" asked Lestrade as Sherlock stood upright, obviously finished.
Sherlock smirked in response, and began spewing his deductions, nearly faster than John and Lestrade could keep up with, and most certainly faster than Anderson could.
"He has two adopted children, who are currently with his partner, whom he's divorcing. He's just returned from a trip to America, where he was for approximately one week- but he wasn't there for business. He was under quite a bit of stress not only from his divorce, but also from his work; he most likely had some sort of job in the computer engineering field. My guess is that the killer is, as I said before a religious vigilant, probably on the verge of insanity, if not already there. He doesn't know the victims, but once he discovers their 'great sins,' he'll stalk them until he finds a time within their daily routine in which they are alone, and possibly the time during which he may consider them to sin the most."
"How can you be so sure of all that?" Anderson sneered.
But before Sherlock could respond, John was on Sherlock's defence. "Come on, even I knew most of that, after just looking around the scene for a few minutes! How could you not? How Sherlock got that all off of the victim is beyond me, but if you had bothered to look right under your own nose, you would have been able to figure some of it out for yourself!"
Everyone in the room fell silent as most of them stared at the seething Doctor, some of them, however, not daring to look up. Sherlock and Lestrade were staring at John with similar expressions of shock and amazement. As were several others. But none more so, however, than those two. Anderson was staring mostly at John, but also glancing at others in the room with a facial expression of shock, anger, and embarrassment all together. Sally was eyeing John angrily, while also giving Anderson sympathetic looks.
John himself, however, was completely unfazed by all of the looks he and others were getting, simply staring down Anderson in a rage as he stood there, right in the middle of the room, not embarrassed in the least.
After a few minutes of silence, it was Sherlock, of course, who broke it. Although, since it had before been buzzing with conversations before with everyone discussing what they saw and were discovering, it was more like he threw it on the ground and shattered it.
He smirked and said, "Thank you, John, for proving my point," while looking at straight at Anderson. Almost everyone in the room jumped in response to the sudden noise. He turned to look at John again for a brief moment with a large smile on his face, and then looked around the room, stating a few more deductions, bringing the room back to its regular buzz of conversation. Although now, it was much quieter than before.
While everyone else was quieted down, Sherlock, on the opposite hand, took the opportunity to be louder than previous. Perhaps it was just because he thought it was too quiet. Maybe because he just wanted all of the attention. Or maybe, the more plausible, just to smite Anderson.
Once Anderson finished what he had been doing (which, honestly, wasn't much at all), he stormed out of the room they had been in, and went "to investigate the other rooms" a bit. Although, for some reason, the only thing John could see in his mind's eye was that of an upset little boy leaving the room to go pout and cry by himself. Which amused him much more than it should have.
Finally, Sherlock finished explaining to Lestrade all of his deductions, and, upon completion, grabbed John by the wrist, and dragged him out to hail a cab and head home. The cab ride was silent, until they were about five minutes away from their flat.
"Why?" Sherlock asked suddenly.
Obviously confused, John replied, "What?"
"Why did you yell at Anderson? Countless times he's made a complete fool of himself and criticised me. Yet you never spoke up against him until today. Why?" he said, as though John were an idiot. Which wasn't completely wrong, since Sherlock thought just about everyone was an idiot besides himself.
John was silent for a few moments before he answered. "I. . . I don't know, Sherlock. . . ."
And although he didn't realise it, John Watson was blushing.
So. Please review and let me know what you thought? Oh, and feel free to share any ideas for the story you might have! Just small little things, you know? I would love to hear from you!
Oh, and by the way, it's my parents' 22nd wedding anniversary today, so wish them a happy anniversary maybe? :D