Hello, hello, hello!

So, I meant to get this up earlier, but, sadly, my fingers are being silly. Since I play guitar, my calluses from the strings sometimes hit a nerve in my finger (or so I've been told), so everytime the tip of my ring finger touches ANYTHING, it is extremely painful, so I am doing my best to type, but, it's a lot slower than I usually am.
Also, I've just recently watched the movie Annabelle...if you haven't seen it, and like scary movies, I highly recommend it! It was freaky! I don't think I will ever own another doll.

Anywho, here you go, the next chapter. Also, I think soon, I will add a mentioned character to the mix, and make it a little more interesting ;)

Also, I added a bit more of Mrs. Hudson, because, lets be honest, who doesn't love her?

The song I'm going to mention in this chapter is called Sleep Walk '68. I'll put the link to the song right here: (In the media section as well, for all of my Wattpad readers!)

watch?v=T4tPGljkR_w

I first heard it on criminal minds, and fell in love with it. Supposedly there is a version with lyrics, but I have yet to find it, sadly. Oh, well, this version is still amazing.

Enjoy!

The door to 221b Baker Street was just as dirty as the flat seemed in the picture. The gold plaques flashing the address was obviously old, not shining like you would expect it, and the green paint was chipping.

Mrs. Hudson opened her door, holding a ring of keys and handing them to Sherlock.

"You had a look, didn't you, Sherlock, when you first came to see about your flat.

Sherlock, who was unlocking the padlock at the top of the door, was now inspecting the keyhole.

"The door's been opened recently." He said. Mrs. Hudson looked at him, curiously.

"No, it can't be. That's the only key." She explained. Sherlock had gotten off the padlock, and unlocked the puts another key into the keyhole.

"I can't get anyone interested in this flat. It's the damp, I expect. That's the curse of basements." Mrs. Hudson said to me. I only nodded, while Sherlock, Lestrade, and John stormed in, not waiting for me.

"I had a place when I was first married. Black mold all up the walls…" She stopped as Lestrade shut the door behind him, before I had a chance to enter. Oh well. If they really wanted me there, they would say something.

"Oh, men!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, exasperated, before turning back to me. "Well, don't just stand there. Come in, I'll make some tea.

And she did just that, making tea for the both of us. She set two mugs on the table, and threw in some biscuits as well, which I was grateful for. I didn't have a chance to eat this morning, and it was a little past noon.

"So." She said, sitting down. I smiled at her. "How have you been?" She asked, attempting to make conversation.

"Alright, I guess." I said.

"And what about...you know the whole gas leak?" She asked, shaking her head at the whole situation. "I would have gone to check on you if I didn't have to go right back out again. The lady at the grocery store forgot to give me one of my bags. I had to go all the way back to the store to get it." She laughed, causing me to laugh as well.

"It's fine. We weren't hurt, obviously. Just a few scratches, but no real damage. And it's a good thing you were out, or weren't on your way back when it happened." I said. She nodded.

"So, how are your brother and Sherlock?" She asked, a knowing smile on her face. I decided to disregard it.

"They are both fine."
"Good, good. I knew they had a little spat, and I was just wondering if the two had resolved it. Horrible thing, that would be, John moving out. What would you do? With John being your brother, and you being in love with Sherlock and all."

I almost spit out my tea.

"I love Sherlock? Who said?"

"Oh, no one had to say it, dear. It's obvious." She laughed, getting up from her seat to get the fresh biscuits from the oven. "Doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to see that." She said, and I couldn't help but think that she was right. Maybe he didn't like me in that way, but if Mrs. Hudson saw it, then Sherlock definitely did, which wasn't good. It was awkward, and I had a feeling the truth would come out at the worst of times...a party, or another public place where he can publicly humiliate me, stating that I was in love with him, and that he didn't return the feelings. It put an odd feeling in my gut.

"Elizabeth, dear. Are you alright? You've gone a bit pale." Mrs. H said, her brows furrowed. I smiled and nodded quickly.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just thinking. Something personal. I'm sorry." I apologized.

"I asked, what are you going to do about it." She said, smiling.

"About what?"

"Loving Sherlock." She prompted. I shrugged.

"Nothing, I guess. He doesn't feel the same, so I'll ignore the feeling until they go away. If they were even there in the first place, which they are not, thank you very much. I'm just saying…"

"You're just saying." She mumbled knowingly. I guess there was no point in hiding it from her. I sighed in defeat.

"Oh, don't worry, love. I won't say anything." She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I grinned, thankfully, as she handed me a biscuit.

Sherlock and John had picked me up from Mrs. Hudson's flat, and I went with them to the hospital, as Sherlock had picked up a random pair of shoes and needed to do some tests and things of that nature there. John had explained everything on the way; the phone call from the crying woman, telling Sherlock to solve the puzzle, the woman being forced to read out loud what the criminal wanted them to say. Poor girl.

"Who d'you suppose it was?" I asked. I heard someone's text alert go off, but no one looked at their phones.

"Hmm?" Sherlock hummed.

"The woman on the phone-the crying woman."

"Oh, she doesn't matter. She's just a hostage. No lead there." Sherlock said. I sighed and shook my head.

"For God's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads." I explained.

"You're not going to be much use to her." He told me.

"Are-are they trying to trace it? trace the call?" John asked.

"The bomber's too smart for that." Sherlock said as a phone rung again.

"Pass me my phone, one of you."

"Where is it?" I asked.

"Jacket." You've got to be kidding me…

John looked to me in disbelief, and his eyes saying "I'm going to kill him", so I stepped up to the plate, walking across the room, sticking my hand in his jacket and looking through the inside pocket.

"Careful." Sherlock said angrily. I pinched him as hard as I could before pulling out his phone, handing it to him.

"Text from your brother."

"Delete it." Sherlock commanded. "Missile plans are out of the country now. Nothing we can do about it."

I looked at the message.

Mycroft

RE: Bruce Partington Plans

Any progress on Andrew West's death?

Mycroft

"Well, Mycroft thinks there is. He's texted you eight times. Must be important." I said, scrolling though the messages. Sherlock sighed.

"Then why didn't he cancel his dental appointment?"
"What?" John asked.

"Mycroft never texts if he can talk. Look, Andrew West stole the missile plans, tried to sell then, got his head smashed in for his pains. End of story. The only mystery is this:why is my brother so determined to bore with when somebody else is being so delightfully interesting?"
"Try and remember there is woman here who might die." I reminded.

"What for." Sherlock said, shrugging, looking between John and I. "This hospital's full of people dying, Watsons. Why don't you go cry by their bedside and see what good it does them." Sherlock said, turning back to his microscope, leaving John and I to stand there, unmoving.

The computer beeped, and Sherlock exclaimed, delighted.

"Any luck?" A girl asked, walking into the lab. I remembered her, but not her name.

"Oh, yes!" Sherlock answered. The girl went to look at the screen, when a man walked in, but stopped as soon as he saw us.

"Oh, sorry…" He began, but the girl beckoned him inside.

"Jim! Hi! Come in! Come in!" She said, smiling. Jim walked inside, stopping beside her.

"Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes, and, uh, sorry…" She said, pointing to my brother and I.

"John and Elizabeth Watson." John answered.

"Hi!" I greeted, but they ignored me, except for the girl, who sent me a smile.

"So, you're Sherlock Holmes. Molly's told me all about you. You on one of your cases?" Jim asked.

"Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That's how we met. Office romance." the girl giggled. Molly? Mallory?

"Gay." Sherlock mumbled.

"Sorry, what?" The girl asked, her smile fading

"Nothing. Um, hey." Sherlock 'smiled'.

"Hey." Jim said before kicking over a metal dish. "Sorry, sorry." He said nervously. John and I face palmed as Jim walked back to his little girlfriend.

"Well, I'd better be off. I'll see you at The Fox, 'bout six-ish?" Jim asked her. She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah."
"'Bye." He said. "It was nice to meet you." but Sherlock said nothing.

"You too." John said, breaking the silence. Jim turned and left.

"What do you mean gay?" The girl asked as soon as the door shut behind Jim. "We're together."

"And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly, you've put on three pounds since I last saw you."
"Two and a half." She corrected. I almost hit Sherlock for saying something like that, but I thought it best not too.

"No, three."

"Sherlock…" John warned.

"He's not gay. Why d'you have to spoil…? He's not." Molly said, clearly extremely upset. Sherlock only snorted.

"With that level of personal grooming?"
"Because he puts a bit of product in his hair, I put product in my hair." John said, stepping forward.

"You wash your hair. There's a difference. No-no-tinted eyelashes; clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines; those tiered clubber's eyes. Then there's his underwear."

"His underwear?" I asked, confused.

"Visible above the waistline. Very visible;very particular brand. That, plus the extremely suggestive fact that he left his number under this dish here, and I say you'd better break it off now and save yourself the pain." Molly only stared at him for a second before storming out of the room, with me following after her.

"Molly." I called down the hallway, She stopped and turned to face me, clearly still angry, and I don't blame her. "Are you okay?" I asked. She paused before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm alright, I guess."

"I'm sure he was just trying to do something kind. Tell you beforehand? I don't know, but I don't think he meant to hurt your feelings." I explained, believing every word I said. Sherlock may not have been very nice, but he wasn't cruel.

"Thank you." She smiled. "I"m fine. Elizabeth, right?" She guessed.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Thank you, Elizabeth." She said before turning to go back down the hallway. I watched her walk away a few steps, before turning myself.
"Oh, Elizabeth." Molly called back. I spun around to find her facing me.

"You're a lucky girl." She smiled, and I knew what she meant.

I had walked in just as Sherlock had a breakthrough.

"Carl Powers."

"Who?" I asked.

"Carl Powers, Elizabeth. It's where I began."

"Nineteen eighty-nine, a young kid-champion swimmer- came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool, Tragic accident. You wouldn't remember it. Why should you?" He said, showing us a newspaper on his phone.

"But you remember?"
"Yes."

"Something fishy about it?"

"Nobody thought so. Nobody except me. I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers."

"Started young, didn't you?" John said.

"The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out, it was too late." Sherlock explained. "But there is something wrong; something I couldn't get out of my head."

"What?" I asked.

"His shoes?"

"What about them?" John asked. I leaned to look around him at Sherlock, eager to hear his answer.

"They weren't there. I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He'd left all of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes…" Sherlock said, then he held up the bag of shoes. "...until now."

There were six hours to go, and Sherlock was practically glued to his microscope, while John and I sat in the living room. I was lying on the couch while John paced back and forth. I thought he was going to burn a hole through the floor.

John, not being able to stand it any longer, opened the sliding door to the kitchen.

"Can I help?" He asked, but I heard no response. "I want to help. There's only five hours left." But still, Sherlock didn't respond.

I heard mine and John's phone buzz at the same time, and I grabbed mine from the coffee table.

UNKNOWN

Any developments?

Mycroft Holmes

"It's your brother." I said standing. "He's texting us now."

"Must be a root canal."

John walked into the kitchen, putting his phone away, while I saved the number, thinking it might be useful later, and I would forget to do so in a few hours.

"Look, he did say 'national importance'." John reminded. Sherlock snorted.

"How quaint." He said, not looking away from his microscope.

"What is?"

"You are. Queen and country." Sherlock said.

"You can't just ignore it." John said, sternly.

"I'm not ignoring it. I'm putting my best man on it right now."

"Good." John crossed his arms, and nodded, satisfied. "Who's that?"

John had only been gone for a good five minutes, and I already wanted him to come back. There was nothing really to do, besides read, and I had already finished most of my books, and I didn't want to disturb Sherlock and John's shelves. I also couldn't watch TV because of Sherlock's research, so I decided to take a nap, but that wasn't working for me either.

Sighing, I stood up and walked to the kitchen, wondering if Sherlock needed any help.

"No, thanks." He said, quickly, standing from his microscope, and walking around. I nodded.

"Right. Okay." I said, awkwardly, walking back to the couch and plopping down, closing my eyes.

"Tiered?" Sherlock asked, and I cracked an eye open to look at him. I shrugged.

"A little. Can't sleep, though. I've tried."
"Hmm." Sherlock hummed in response. "Bored?" He asked, and I opened both eyes this time.

"Yes. Very." I answered.

"Hmm." He hummed, again, sitting in his chair.

An awkward silence fell between us, and i closed my eyes again. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I just thought I would take a break." He answered. "Why?"

"Just wondering." I shrugged, shooting up from the couch, and going to the kitchen, grabbing an apple from a bowl on the counter by the sink, and walked back into the living room, sitting across from Sherlock. His hands were in a praying position, underneath his chin, but his eyes were open, staring at me.

"You own records."

"Yes. I do."

"How many?"

"Why?"

"Curious."

I nodded. "A lot."

He nodded his head slowly, looking to the side, before snapping his head back to me.

"So you like music."

"Yes." I humored him by answering his stupid questions.

Sherlock sat still for a moment, before jumping from his chair and going back to his bedroom.

I heard his footsteps coming back down the hallway quickly.

"You don't mind, do you?" He asked, flashing a record in front of me. I shook my head.

"Please, go ahead." I said, but I'm sure he would have played it either way.

I closed my eyes and waited for the music.

When the music started, I instantly knew what it was: Sleepwalk-one of my grandmothers favorites. When John and I were little, we used to go over to her house and stay the night, and she would always play old music, this song being my favorite, while we made cookies or crafts.

I felt a smile creep to my face, and I opened my eyes to find Sherlock standing in front of me.

"Do you dance?" He asked, holding out a hand. I smiled wider.

"No."

"Oh come on."

"You have work to do." I said, motioning to the microscope.

"I could use a break."

"I don't know how to dance."
"I'll teach you. Come on." He grabbed my hands and I stood up in front of him. He placed one of my arms on his shoulder while he placed his on my waist, and grabbed my other hand, holding it in his in the air. He then began to move his feet, and I tried to keep up, but ended up stepping on him.

"Sorry." I said, but he shook his head, sighing, before lifting me up from the ground, by my waist, and putting me back down on the tops of his feet, before swaying back and forth again.

"You know…" Sherlock began. "earlier today, when you went to Mrrs. Hudson's?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yeah."

He leaned in, his face beside mine to whisper in my ear.

"The walls aren't exactly soundproof." He said, and I could hear the smile on his face. I felt mine become red from the base of my neck, to my cheeks.

Sherlock moved his hand that held mine in the air, to my waist, but I kept mine in the air, mortified.

Sherlock chuckled, placing a quick kiss on my cheek, so quick I almost didn't notice.

"Oh, don't worry." was all he said, and I calmed down enough to move my arm to his shoulder. He didn't move his head, though, so I rested mine on his shoulder and he rested his head against mine, although he was a lot taller than me, so it was probably kind of awkward.

The song had ended, but Sherlock didn't let go. Instead we kept swaying back and forth to nothing, in bliss.

Tada!

I tried to add some more dialogue of my own, a request made by a reviewer, which I thank.

Again, the song played in this is called Sleepwalk by Santo & Johnny '68 but the 1959 version is just as good!I listened to both while writing. I'll add a link to both here:

watch?v=1st_9KudWB0 (1959 version)

watch?v=T4tPGljkR_w ('68 version)

Reviews:

Hello!

I am excited. So excited. I think I have an addiction to this fanfiction. I love it so much. I absolutely understand the adoration of Moriarty - such an ingenious application of the character can not be denied. He's one of my all time favourite villains. I think it's wonderful, everything you have done so far. If I was to have any complaint, it was only that you missed a few quotation marks, but nothing major or that important.

That's good that my reviews aren't too long. Its always great to get feedback, and know how your readers are going with the story, so I always make sure I include that as much as possible in these reviews. :)

I think I too could write a book containing my ramblings and spiels that I go into on some occasions. Sometimes the more words you have, the more comfortable it is to read and say (as long as it doesn't go to far).

Can't wait for more! XD

Until we meet again,

The Supreme General

I am so glad someone gets it! I can't be the only one addicted to him, and Andrew Scott did an amazing job portraying him! And he's my favorite, too! So insanely clever!

And I'm sorry about the quotation marks. Sometimes I get in a hurry and I forget those little things. I hope this one is a little better. And I agree. The more words, the more comfortable it is to read. Thank you again for your wonderful review, my dear, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and enjoy the rest to come! I always get so insanely excited when I see that you have left a review!

well, its rather boring because we all know how the cases are gonna end, theres nothing new, and your description of their behaviors and conversations are average, could be MUCH better.

So far the only thing ive liked is Sherlock telling Anderson he was too late and grabbed Elizabeth's hand.

However, since I don't know when the next rudimentarily decent story of Sherlock will pop up, ill alert this one.

-hums- a piece of advice. stop quoting the series. put your own conversations into this, your own events. Make it your own. Understand?

~narutonarutolove

First, I want to say thank you for your constructive criticism. I always appreciate it.

I have planned on adding a few cases that weren't explained in the show, are in John's blog, or some of my own, but just to kick things off, I began with some of the episodes, more for myself to get used to writing this before I go off of the beaten path. I am going to try to make it my own as much as I can, without making it something completely different altogether, if that made any sense…

Thank you again for your review and your criticism!

Yay this is great! I love how Sherlock is caring for and tending to Elizabeth; it gets me all smiley :D And I pretty sure a lot of people are really shy when they meet someone for the first time in real life (especially writers). I'm really glad that you're updating as often as you are and shouldn't feel bad about that, because, well as you said, things get in the way (like finding an amazing new show to binge on or schoolwork). I also think you're really on point with John's reaction to Sherlock being all close with Elizabeth; his overprotectiveness is so sweet.

~GraySnowie

Aww, thank you sweetie! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and it made you just as smiley as the last! ;)

And I am extremely shy the first time you meet me, but once you get to know me, I don't think I ever shut up….which isn't a good thing…

I'm glad you are enjoying it, and thank you so much! And I am especially glad that you think John's reaction is on point! I love John, and I was worried I would write him a bit out of character.

That's all the reviews for this chapter, and I have made a decision…

I was looking at the properties for this story, and the traffic for it, and holy crow, guys! It's insane! I didn't think this story would be as popular as it is! It amazes me!

So I have decided that I would tell my parents and some other selected family members that I write fanfiction (my mom is vaguely aware that I write fanfiction, and my dad has no clue) IF I reach:

100 Followers and Favorites

and

90 reviews

Which shouldn't be too hard, right?

But I'm planning around 20 chapters or more, so

If I get 100 F&F and 90 reviews by chapter 15, then I'll tell them…

which shouldn't be a big deal, but, as I have said before, I am really shy and absolutely terrified on confrontation...I mean T.E.R.R.I.F.I.E.D!

So, anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please listen to the songs in the A/N, and I'll see you soon!

(Also, if you want to, follow my twitter fangirlat221b for chapter update info, sneak peeks, and hints about upcoming chapters!)