Chapter Four: A Drink With Dr. Watson
A few nights later, Melissa sat at her kitchen table, staring out the window. Rain fell slowly from the dark sky and trickled down her large, picture window. There had been no new murders resembling the "MOR" one.
A knock upon the door made Melissa jump. She wasn't expecting anyone. She had immediately thrown on a pair of faded navy blue jeans and a white T-shirt when she had gotten home from work. She slowly and silently made her way to the door and peered through the peephole. It was John.
She opened the door, inviting John inside.
"How are you?" Melissa asked. She hadn't seen John since he had left the dead woman's flat a few nights earlier.
John didn't answer right away, running his hand over his face. "Tired," he finally responded. "You?"
"Me too," Melissa agreed.
"I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink?" John asked. He stuffed his fists into his pockets, looking somewhat nervous.
"Sure," Melissa said with a smile. She genuinely looked forward to hanging out with John, although she hoped he wasn't thinking she liked him romantically. "Let me grab my coat."
She walked into her bedroom, nearly tripping over her Louboutins that were strewn across her floor. Normally she obsessively cleaned everything, but this case had begun to take up all her time. She grabbed her jacket that she had haphazardly thrown on an armchair earlier.
When Melissa returned to her front hall, John was looking at all the framed photos in the foyer. As she grabbed a pair of sneakers from the closet, John picked up a photo of Melissa and another brunette girl, who looked to be a few years younger than Melissa.
"Is this your sister?" John asked.
"Yeah," Melissa said, walking over to where John stood. "My younger sis, Stephanie."
"She looks just like you," John replied, still admiring the photo.
"Some people think she's my clone," Melissa said, with a sad laugh. Her sister was nearly ten years younger than her. Their father had passed away when Melissa was sixteen and her mother had gone completely insane soon after. Melissa hadn't even seen her sister in almost seven years. She took a deep breath, trying to forget just how crazy her life had been prior to her move to London.
"These family photos are all really old," Melissa said, placing the photo of herself and Stephanie back on the table of photos. "I haven't seen my family since before I went to college, and even then things were really messed up."
John sighed. "I know what having a messed up family is like," he said, gingerly placing a hand on Melissa's arm.
They were silent for a moment.
"I apologize," Melissa said, suddenly realizing they were supposed to be getting a drink. "We should stop moping when there are drinks to be had."
John laughed, opening her door.
"After you," he said, gesturing towards the open door.
Melissa and John walked into a small bar in a quaint part of London. There was a considerable amount of people in the bar, even though it was a Wednesday night. Since the bar was full of people, Melissa and John found a small table in a corner across from the bar. John worked his way up to the bar and came back a few minutes later, two drinks in hand.
"Thanks," Melissa said, flashing him a smile.
"Your welcome," John responded with a smile as well.
Music by Molotov Jukebox played in the background. Melissa tapped her fingers on the table. She loved Natalia Tena and her band.
John began explaining his time spent in Afghanistan and Melissa listened intently. She couldn't imagine what life at war must be like. As Melissa was about to begin a tale about her time spent at college, a voice interrupted her.
"Melissaaaa!" a voice slurred and a clearly drunk young man approached the table. Melissa seemed to stiffen in her seat.
As the man approached, John noticed that he was blond, had ice blue eyes, and seemed to be in impeccable shape. Melissa looked extremely unhappy.
"How ya beeeeen, baaabe," the man said, leaning on the table to hold himself up.
"Alright," Melissa replied in a clipped voice. "I see you haven't changed much."
The man let out a laugh. "There's the sarcastic Mel I knew," he continued, with a slur.
"I'm not being sarcastic," Melissa replied, glancing at John.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your boyfriend here?" the man slurred again, waving his arms towards John. He had to brace himself from falling though, and almost knocked Melissa's drink over.
"No, I don't think I will," Melissa said, moving her drink out of the man's reach and blatantly ignoring the 'boyfriend' reference.
"I'm her ex," the man garbled. "Steve Rogers."
Melissa rolled her eyes. "Steve Rogers? Honestly? Someone clearly wishes he were Captain America. Seems as though you also wish you were even remotely in my league."
The man laughed.
"I think we should leave, John," Melissa said, grabbing her purse and standing up.
"Jaawwwnnnnn," the man yelled, draping his arm over John's shoulder as John stood up. "You seem like a really great guy."
John placed the man in the seat he had just vacated and followed Melissa out the door. Once they had walked to the corner, Melissa turned to him.
"Sorry," she said, running a hand through her hair. "I went to college with him. He obviously still hasn't gotten over the fact that I didn't go out with him. He's cute, but he's such a loser."
"Well, he certainly seems that way," John replied. "What should we do now?"
Melissa glanced at her watch. "Actually I should probably be heading back to my flat. I have work tomorrow morning."
John nodded and they said their goodbyes. He hoped they would see each other again soon.
As John turned to catch a cab, a tall curly-haired man in a long, black overcoat who looked strikingly like Sherlock, caught his eye. But when John spun around to take another look, no one was there.
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