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The Road Less Travelled By

A Sherlock fanfiction

Sherlock is the property of Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and The BBC.

This story is purely for entertainment – please do not get offended

Enjoy…

Part VIII


Photographs, newspaper cut-outs and A4 print-outs now covered the walls of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock stared intently as he digested the information, a multitude of ideas, probabilities and possible outcomes coursing through his brain at such a speed that any regular person would throw themselves down onto the ground and cry out in pain. Sherlock, however, thrived on this feeling. He was at the height of his game when his brain was on over speed. He existed solely for the challenge, fearing that should this ever wane, his mind and whole being would stagnate and fade into a monotonous nothingness. How boring that would be.

Sherlock drew a line between two photographs, both victims, writing the word 'connection' above. To the far left were another set of photographs, one being an iconic figure that every person in the whole of Britain recognised, and another being that of an official looking gentleman. He dragged a line to link the pictures, writing 'theft' above, also jotting the date August 1997 above the female picture. In the centre of the diagram was the bracelet he acquired from the crime scene, linked to all the pictures.

It had not taken him long to decipher the mystery behind the missing pieces in the bracelet. Obviously, judging from the exterior of this particular piece of jewellery, and by examining the circumference of the absent gems, it was logical to assume that the missing pieces were pearls. Another logical assumption was that the stolen pearls were in fact black, which remained rare and high valued, even to this day. Had the pearls been white and relatively mundane, the murderer would have just stolen the bracelet, leaving the victim comatose, but alive. No, caution had been used in this crime and the murderer was careful – remaining unseen to Mathew Connolly's friends, leading him to a secluded area, wearing gloves to avoid leaving any prints. However, he wasn't careful enough to escape the ever watchful eye of Sherlock Holmes.

Once Sherlock knew of the missing pearls, it was time to answer the question of where they originated from. Only one case sprung to mind that would connect that crime to the pearls. In August 1997, a theft had occurred. Whilst the world was mourning the death of an icon, one man, a formerly well trusted man-servant, had been feeling light-fingered and made off with a small fortune of jewellery. He was caught within days and all the jewellery had been recovered, all accept one necklace - a white gold necklace with a string of ten, perfectly round, black pearls. The bracelet that was currently hanging on the wall was missing ten pearls. Was this nothing but a mere coincidence? Sherlock did not believe so either.

The only thing that was niggling Sherlock now was the connection. Obviously, the original thief must have hidden the necklace because it was screamingly evident that he would not get away with such a crime, certainly not one of that magnitude at least. He must have had an accomplice who had woven the pearls into a cheap-looking bracelet because a thorough investigation had been opened in hopes of recovering the lost necklace. However, it was common knowledge that the police force back then was even worse than the current bunch of idiots that patrolled the streets today. It was no wonder the necklace had never been recovered, Sherlock sneered to himself.

"How is the murderer targeting his victims though?" he asked aloud, knowing that there was no one to answer him. His trusted skull had been his companion for the night because John had not yet made it back from Molly's.

To be honest, this should not have surprised him because John regularly stayed with his girlfriend's whenever they did not have a case or if he just needed to leave Baker Street for some unknown reason. John's relationships, to Sherlock, were predictable. They all followed the same basis. Week one: getting to know one another and staying over, on a strictly friendly basis. Week two: sex. Week three: discovering that dating John Watson wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Week four: arguments, jealous (on her side) and the inevitable break-up. The only girlfriend who didn't last a full month was Jean – or whatever her name was. It mattered very little to Sherlock anyway. No, John's relationships were all alike. Which was why, after two weeks, three days and twenty one hours, Sherlock found himself questioning why John was treating this relationship with Molly any different to his previous ones. John was treating his near three week relationship as if they were in the first week. It was rather curious and he would ask John about that when he saw him later.

As for Molly.

Little mousy Molly.

Little mousy Molly who had always dropped whatever she was doing to assist him in whatever it was he needed.

Little mousy Molly who he could wind easily around his little finger.

Little mousy Molly who had such bad taste in men that he needed to point out their obvious faults.

Little mousy Molly who had made such an effort at the Christmas party, just for him.

Little mousy Molly who he had inadvertently hurt showing off.

Little mousy Molly, one of the rare few to ever get a sincere apology from his lips.

Little mousy Molly who now easily resisted his ways.

Little mousy Molly who was currently dating his closest friend…


To be continued...


Wrote this at the same time as the last chapter but felt that it wouldn't flow right so I decided to leave it a day before posting as a separate chap. In my spare time I made the stupid mistake of reading some Sherlock/Molly fics here (not read any before now) and my GOD - they're so good! My writing, ideas and character development fails in comparison. Hence why I am a little worried about this chapter to be honest lol.

Also, thanks for the reviews, guys. Always appreciated :)