There was a noise. Subtle, quiet. A cab pulled up on the side of the road. One man exited it.
It was almost three in the morning, John Watson lay very silently on his bed. Though he was asleep, his ears were still open for any clues, any signs that danger may be approaching. The sound may have been low, and undeniably ordinary, but it was enough. It took one swift motion for the blogger to spring up and lean on his closed door.
The smooth wood was cool on the side of his face as he listened in for the next hint. There was a click, like the muffled sound of someone unbolting a door. Then a creek followed by soft footsteps going up the stairs. He pushed gently on the knob, forcing an opening just large enough for him to squeeze through. He held out his gun defensively. The flat was dark and John had a hard time navigating his way down to the common room.
===
There was a crash, followed by a low grunt.
Due to the fact his position was already compromised, the man switched on the lights. There in the arm chair was a man. His hair was dark and his skin was pale. John's eyes widened as he looked at the curly haired detective sitting across from him.
"Hello John."
"Sherlock?"
"Who else, John?" his tone was a mix between annoyed and bored.
"Where have you been?"
"Around" John rolled his eyes, "I'm a bit disappointed, not really surprised though. I expected this from Graham, but I thought you better than this. An ex-army doctor, decently intelligent, and have inhabited the same flat as me for a year. Yet I go missing and you can't find me?"
The surprise on the blonde's face quickly morphed to anger, "Greg." He said through gritted teeth.
"Whatever"
"So this is just one of your sick games?"
"Not at all. It's merely research, don't be so mellow dramatic, John. And the credit doesn't go to me. Believe me I was just as surprised as you."
"Why is it that I have a hard time believing that?"
"Because you have trust issues, John."
"If it wasn't your doing, than who's responsible for it?"
"Mycroft." Sherlock implied it was obvious but it just made John's ears a shade or two redder.
"So your brother kidnapped you?!"
"Yes, indirectly of course."
"Why?" he was practically screaming now.
"To see how inadequate the police would be in my absence. I wasn't aware of his intentions until after I was abducted though." He got up and went to the couch next to John who was still standing. "He hired a Hench Man."
"And you went with him?"
"It's the thrill of the game" he left out the part about the man threatening John's life. Sherlock unclasped his violin case and slid a shoulder rest over the instrument. Using the newly rosined bow Sherlock zipped across the strings. John shook his head and turned to go back to his bed. "Leave it to Sherlock Holmes." He mumbled under his breath.
Author's Note: thank you so much for reading. All of you rock and I hope you liked this fic. Thanks to professor haley and watlocked for being constant supporters. If you all have a suggestion let me know. Please review.
