When Watson walked towards the kitchen for coffee the next morning he found both Sherlock and Ellie were already awake, evidence sprawled out on the table. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he watched as Ellie rearranged the piles in the front of her again and again before growling in frustration.
"This is impossible," she murmured, slapping down a photo she had been holding. "There's not enough room."
"Other than the floor, this is the largest, flat space there is," Sherlock droned, squinting at what all lay before him. "Ellie sighed, putting her hands on her hips as she ran her gaze along everything.
"Do you have any tape?" she asked after a few moments. After looking at her for a bit, Watson pointed over to his desk where she grabbed the desired object and began to promptly attach everything to the wall above the couch. When she started pulling things right out of Sherlock's hands he helped her finish before they both took up staring at the wall, Watson watching them peculiarly. Ellie took to sticking little notes to the wall as well, sticky pad and pen in hand.
"Autopsy results show signs of abrasions on her left knee," Ellie murmured, placing a note on the wall.
"Recent. Her dress held an abundance of fibers on her skirt that match the carpet of her bedroom," Sherlock added.
"The struggle definitely started there," Ellie sighed, crossing her arms. "What about the vomit?"
"Unless she drank scotch and ate steak for lunch it wasn't hers," Sherlock said.
"So a man most likely, perhaps her attacker. Whoever it was she knew him very well."
"Maybe it was the man who was supporting her," Watson spoke up.
"Undoubtedly," Sherlock confirmed. "I'm going to see what I can learn about this Eugene McNearny character."
"Have fun," Ellie called out as he left.
"What? No kiss goodbye?" Watson joked.
"Of course not," Ellie said simply. "We've never kissed before." Watson choked on his coffee before turning his attention back to Ellie.
"Ever?" he asked.
"Never," she replied, not looking away from the wall. "In case you haven't noticed, Sherlock and I aren't exactly normal."
"You sleep in the same bed and you've never kissed before," Watson elaborated. "Why?"
"It just never came up," she told him.
"It just never…," he trailed off and scoffed. "I know Sherlock is barely human but he is actually a man, isn't he?"
"Very much so," Ellie said casually, causing Watson to clam up more than he thought her response would. "Every man has his weaknesses, John."
"Oh? And just what are these, um, weaknesses of his?" Chuckling, Ellie threw a deviant look over her shoulder.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"How well versed are you in hand-to-hand combat?" Sherlock asked me after I had taken a break for lunch, still wearing sweatpants and a loose shirt from bed.
"I know how to not break my thumb if I try punching someone," I told him with a casual shrug. "So not much really."
"Perfect. John? Come here." The shorter man stood from his desk, approaching cautiously as Sherlock led us both to the bathroom. "You're fighting, in confined quarters, Ellie, let's assume you are the furthest in and he's dragged you here, probably trying to hit your head off something." As he spoke, Sherlock put John's hands on my bicep and wrist and then mine one free hand on the wrist near my arm.
"Well, I can't really move his hands, he's stronger," I thought out loud. "If I duck I may get out of his grip but I'll be lower and he'll just have more control over me. We're struggling, so we're close." John and I started to mock fight, our bodies nigh as he tried pushing me back and I tried moving forward. "Honestly? I'd knee him," I said, bringing my knee up just slightly so they both got the idea. "We're close, he's not expecting it, and it's my only advantage."
"Good, just as I thought," Sherlock said, nodding and leaving the bathroom for us to follow.
"Thought what?" John asked.
"The mistress probably didn't know much about fighting or there would be more defensive wounds. Just about any woman like that, then, would try to hit the groin of their attacker," he told us.
"The vomit," I realized. "She kneed him so hard he puked."
"Yes. I am also willing to bet she used her left knee to do it as her right foot would be sturdier to hold her weight. The fibers on her skirt were approximately knee level and they were sparse, as though they had been transferred. Perhaps our suspect, when we have a suspect, will still have the pair of trousers with carpet fibers on them," Sherlock explained to us both.
"Brilliant," I said, "but it doesn't really help us out much."
"No, but it's still another piece of the puzzle," Sherlock said, returning his gaze to the wall.
The day passed slowly, resulting in little progress as we began to make a list of potential suspect types seeing as we really had to leads. Later in the afternoon I tried my hand at making tea again and had already given it to the boys before I realized the tea bags I had used had been torn. John politely drank it, cringing at the taste but soldiering through it none the less while Sherlock downed his passively before reaching his violin and starting his pacing again. We paused briefly for a dinner of sandwiches Mrs. Hudson had made before returning to our work.
Both Sherlock and I stared at the wall before us, pictures and notes taped up side by side and clustered together in a seemingly impossible maze of connections. Resting my weight on my left foot with my arms crossed and right hand to my lips I slowly scanned the facts, Sherlock standing beside me with his hands on his hips and a pen in his hand. Long ago John had left to sleep and the last time either of us had spoken had been an hour or so before that. Flicking my gaze around the wall I tried to see what I was missing. Pulling my hand away, there was a soft suction sound before I spoke.
"What about-."
"Not plausible," Sherlock told me. Returning my hand to my mouth I stared wall for a while longer before my eyes landed on a picture of the smudges on the window.
"Something here isn't right," I said, reaching out to touch the photo. "I thought she was leaning against the window but it's an uncomfortable placement even given my height let alone hers." Crossing the room, well aware that Sherlock's eyes were following me, I went up to a window and placed my hand in a similar spot. "If I wanted to lean forward I would place it higher and more towards my center for balance. Given the scuff mark on the carpet she had it down and to her right and had done so many times."
"What makes you certain the two are related?" Sherlock asked, wandering closer and away from the wall.
"With how much she touched that window it had to be habit. Anytime she was close to it she would have reached for it. If she was standing there she would have definitely touched it. What pulled her away?" I asked.
"The man," Sherlock said simply.
"Okay. She's by the window, he's behind her," I began, closing my eyes. Heat came from behind me, Sherlock's arms wrapping around my waist and his wide hands splaying out on my stomach. "He's close, intimate. She's wearing his favorite color and looking out the window sets the mood for him." Sherlock leaned in, his warm breath tickling along my shoulder and up to my neck. Tilting my head to the side closest to the window, I let him sweep away the loose strands of hair so his lips could hover above my skin. "He isn't looking, she is." Opening my eyes I looked out the window, my eyes drawn to my hand. "What next?"
"He's angry," Sherlock's voice hummed near my ear. "Something has set him off. He pulls her away." With a quick jerk, Sherlock grabbed my left bicep and right hip and started pulling me.
"She has a limp in her left foot, trips," I continued, letting my left heel drag.
"He shoves her, she lands on her knee, picking up fibers," he said, pushing me gently as I landed on my knee first before rolling to face him. "He picks her up again, wrists this time, redoing damage from days before." Grabbing my wrists, he pulled me to my feet and pushed me back.
"She's ready this time, doesn't trip and leaves no unusual marks. They're in the bathroom."
"What happens in the bathroom?" Sherlock asked me.
"She knees him" I said, mocking a blow to his groin. "Transfers fibers. He vomits. She dies." Separating, we both watched each other before turning to the wall again. "There's still a lot missing."
"Not as much, Ellie," Sherlock told me, crossing his arms. Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my eyes, pushing back some hair again only to have it fall back. "Go to sleep. It's late."
"You're not going to sleep yet, neither am I," I told him, still going to the couch and sitting down.
"I am feeling a bout of acute insomnia coming on, probably won't sleep for days," Sherlock drawled. "To bed, now."
"No," I sighed, stretching out on the couch. "I'll stay here, keep you company." After a few moments of silence I sighed and rolled onto my side. "You never asked how I knew it was his favorite color."
"Most of the revealing or fancy clothing in her closet was red," Sherlock murmured. "As we suspect most of it was purchased by the man having an affair with her it was a logical deduction. Good job." Laughing lightly, I opened my eyes halfway.
"It was child's play and you know it," I told him.
"Then why bother bringing up that I never inquired as to how you knew if you knew I already did?" Sherlock questioned.
"To make conversation," I sighed. "Sometimes it makes you go off on a tangent that reveals a clue. Apparently not this time, you must be tired."
"I am awake," Sherlock said.
"Yeah, and I'm awake too. That doesn't mean I'm not tired. Go to bed, Sherly, you'll be able to deduce better in the morning."
Thank you for reading yet another chapter of The Stained Satin! It's a short one but no matter how much I thought about it I just couldn't find anything else to add in this one.
Thank you to all of my followers, favoriters, and reviewers! You really help me keep going.
I keep meaning to mention this but then I forget so here it is. This story takes place before The Reichenbach Fall. In case that much wasn't obvious but it is still a very useful piece of information considering how major that episode was.
Feel free to let me know how you are finding the story, if you have any suggestions/find any mistakes, or if you just feel like dropping in and saying hi. Thanks again everyone!
EDIT: Spotted a couple errors and just fixed them.