Chapter 4
Sheryl got out of the car and Hamish followed suit. Soon the two headed down the street in companionable silence.
"So…" Hamish broke in, "When do I get to drive?"
"When I lose all common sense and get sedated to boot. Remember that time a cabbie passed out and you decided to take the wheel?"
"I got him to the hospital, didn't I?"
"And my dad said you probably put a few more people there." She smiled as he huffed indignantly.
As they neared the apartment, they saw the lights on and heard a small explosion followed by a startled cry.
"Your dad experimenting again?"
Hamish bit back a scathing retort that he would've used on anyone else. He hated obvious questions. But to Sheryl, he said.
"I suppose. Mum won't be too happy; last time he put eyeballs in the microwave they got into a row."
"Was that when you stayed over on the couch?" She asked.
"No, that was for the row about the severed head." Sheryl winced in sympathy. She had seen her father's fights with Sherlock about his experiments over the years, especially after she had hurt herself when he let her play with a Bunsen burner at age three. She was glad that her parents often went to the shooting range when they were angry rather than fight at home.
They heard raised voices as they approached the door.
"Want the couch again?" She offered.
"Oh God, yes." He replied.
The two took off running down the block to Sheryl's flat, leaving the detective and dominatrix behind them to argue.