~*~Taxi Chase~*~
While we were walking down the street, I looked over to Sherlock.
"Can I have my hand back, now?" I asked, almost reluctantly. I saw him glance my way, and felt his hand release mine.
"Thank you…" I said, slowing my pace so I could be in the back, away from Sherlock, so I could think clearly.
"Where are we going?" John asked Sherlock.
"Northumberland Street's a five minute walk from here." He said, looking straight ahead.
"You think he's stupid enough to go there?"
"No, I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught."
"Why?"
"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John. It needs an audience."
"Yeah."
"This is his hunting ground. Right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go. Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?" Sherlock asked us, but mostly was asking himself.
"Don't know. Who?"
"Haven't the faintest. Hungry?" He asked, as we walked toward a restaurant.
_*_Inside the restaurant_*_
"Thank you, Billy." Sherlock said to some waiter, who appointed us to a table. We got seated at the front table near the window, and John sat in front of the window and put his jacket right next to him, which forced me to sit next to Sherlock. My blushed was even darker, but hid my face with my hair.
"22 Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it." Sherlock said to us.
"He's not just going to ring the doorbell, is he? He'd have to be mad." John said.
"He has killed four people."
"Okay." Then, I'm guessing, the manager came over to our table.
"Sherlock! Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you, your friend, and for your date." He gestured to me.
"Do you want to eat?" He asked me and John.
"I'm not his date." I said quietly.
"This man got me off a murder charge." He said, and one-arm hugged Sherlock, who looked like he was forcing a smile.
"This is Angelo. Three years ago, I successfully proved to Lestrade, at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder, that Angelo was in a different part of town, house-breaking."
"He cleared my name." The man Angelo said.
"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening outside?" Sherlock asked him.
"Nothing. But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."
"You did go to prison." Sherlock said bluntly.
"Ah…I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic."
"I'm not his date!" I said again, only louder this time.
"You may as well eat. We might have a long wait." He told us. Then Angelo brought a candle over.
"Thanks." I said sarcastically. I saw John look at my flushed face, and he raise his eyebrow. I looked away, not looking at either of them.
"Riza, are you feeling okay?" John asked me.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" I looked at him, smiling.
"Your face is all red. " Sherlock said.
"Wha-?! It's not! It's probably just because its hot in here!" I said, and laughed nervously.
"Then why don't you take off your jacket?" John asked. I quickly covered up the real reason.
"Oh you know…don't wanna worry about putting it back on, when we go to leave." They eyed me suspiciously.
"Alright." They said.
_*_Later_*_
"People don't have arch-enemies." John suddenly said.
"I'm sorry?"
"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen."
"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull."
"So who did I meet?"
"What do real people have, then, in their "real lives"?"
"Friends? Or people they know, people they like, people they don't like… Girlfriends, boyfriends." I spoke up.
"Yeah, well, as I was saying, dull."
"You don't have a girlfriend, then?" I glared at him, and he fought back a smile.
"Girlfriend? No, not really my area." Sherlock said, not really paying attention to the invisible war going on between me and John at the moment.
"Mm. Oh, right. Do you have a boyfriend?" I asked him. Payback…
"Which is fine, by the way." John said, quickly.
"I know it's fine."
"So you've got a boyfriend, then?" John asked. I pouted. It didn't affect him…
"No."
"Right. Okay. You're unattached. Like me. Fine. Good." I sniggered. Sherlock and John sat there awkwardly while I, on the other hand, was suppressing my laughter so hard I had to turn away and keep my mouth covered.
"John, um… I think you should know I consider myself married to my work and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any…" I think a squeak just escaped.
"No," John choked out. "I'm… not asking. I'm just saying, it's all fine." I turned back around, after I bit my lip to make me stop laughing, and looked out the window.
"Good. Thank you." I cleared my throat, and they looked at me.
"Look across the street. Taxi. It's stopped. Nobody getting in, nobody getting out. Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?" I said, staring intently at the cab.
"That's him." John said.
"Don't stare." Sherlock told John.
"You guys are staring." John said.
"We can't all stare." I said, then got up and left the restaurant without a second thought. I didn't know if they were following me or not, but I heard John yell 'Wait!' When I ran into the street, and almost got hit by a car. I was quick because I timed it perfectly and slide across the hood and stopped. I heard John behind me yell 'Sorry!…' then they caught up to me.
"I've got the cab number." John said.
"Good for you." Sherlock said. Then he closed his eyes and started saying all kinds of rubbish that sounded like a route.
"Right turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights." Then he started running down the street. The moment he moved I had to grab John and drag him because he's so slow.
When we got up to an alleyway, Sherlock pushed a pedestrian out of the way, and John being who he is yelled, "Sorry!"
"Come on, John…" Sherlock said, because John was very behind.
_*_Later_*_
We had to jump across to buildings and John had stopped.
"Come on, John. We're losing him!"
Then he was across.
_*_Later_*_
"This way." Sherlock said, as we turned the corner. John went the wrong way. "No, this way!"
"Sorry!"
_*_Later(again-_-')_*_
We finally caught up with the cab, but since I was dressed casually, and the other two looked nice, so I went behind the cab.
"Police! Open her up." Sherlock said, panting. "No… Teeth, tan. What Californian? LA, Santa Monica. Just arrived."
"How can you possibly know that?" John asked.
"The luggage." Sherlock said, sounding depressed again. "Probably your first trip to London, right? Going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you."
"Sorry, are you guys the police?" The Californian asked.
"Yeah." Sherlock flashed a fake police ID. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah." The Californian said, confused. Sherlock fake smiled.
"Welcome to London." Then he left.
"Er, any problems, just let us know." John said, then he shut the taxi door.
We walked over to a further spot down, and started talking.
"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down." I said, still trying to catch my breath.
"Basically." Sherlock said.
"Not the murderer." John said.
"Not the murderer, no." Sherlock shook his head.
"Wrong country, good alibi." I said.
"As they go." John reached for the ID in Sherlock's hand.
"Hey, where did you get this? Detective Inspector Lestrade?"
"Yeah. I pickpocket him when he's annoying. You can keep that one. I've got plenty at the flat." Sherlock said, and John and I laughed.
"What?" Sherlock asked.
"Nothing, just… "Welcome to London"." I said. Sherlock sniggered. We turn around to look at the cab, and we see the Californian out of the cab and and is describing John and Sherlock to an actual police officer.
"Got your breath back?" Sherlock asked.
"Ready when you are." John and I said. Then we ran off.
~*~Laaaaateerrrrr~*~
We got to Sherlock and John's flat and ran into it, and we were leaning against the wall, next to the stairs.
"That was Awesome!" I said, laughing.
"That was the most ridiculous thing… I've ever done." John panted.
"And you invaded Afghanistan." Sherlock pointed out, and we started laughing.
"That wasn't just me. Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" John asked.
"They can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway." Sherlock said.
"So what were we doing there?" I asked. Sherlock caught his breath.
"Oh, just passing the time. And proving a point."
"What point?" John asked confused.
"You. Mrs. Hudson! Dr. Watson will take the room upstairs."
"Says who?"
"Says the man at the door." Sherlock nodded at the door. There was a knock and John answered.
"Sherlock texted me. He said you forgot this." Angelo said, handing John his cane.
"Ah…" We looked at Sherlock and saw he was smiling. "Er… Thank you. Thank you." He closed the door and walked back over to us, just as Ms. Hudson came in, looking distraught.
"Sherlock, what have you done?" She asked him. We all began to worry.
"Ms. Hudson?"
"Upstairs." Was all she could say, because we had already taken off up the stairs.
