Out of the cab, you stop and stare. You are outside of London, the dominating colours are green and brown and the soft sunlight that shines through the leaves, is about to disappear any moment now. There are nearly no cars, no smoke, no sign of modern lifeforms at all. You watch the cab as it leaves the empty side road. A deep sigh escapes your mouth as you find yourself next to a wood. Only a little road out of white gravel shows that people actually live here. Everything was darkened, the shadows of the huge oak trees made the days seem even shorter. It didn't take long, for the golden sun to vanish behind a hill full of firs. You look away from your ambiance as you realize that John and Sherlock didn't take a minute to appreciate their surroundings. You catch a last glance of Sherlock's dark coat as he and John, next to each other, turn around a dark corner. "Fuck", you whisper and hurry after them. Running across the little street you stumble over a few tree branches but always manage not to fall on the ground. You stop for a moment to catch your breath after you nearly ran against a birch. The darkness surrounds you like a blanket as you try to catch up with the men.
Eventually you can see them both standing at the end of the tiny road, talking to a gray haired man. The third man, was around Sherlock's height, he was skinny and muscles formed around his arms. He was talking to Sherlock excitedly and gesturing with his hands and now and then combing with his fingers through his short hair. Relieve washes over your body, as you walk out the wood, toward the end of the street, which ended on the parking lot of a big wooden cottage. While casually walking closer to John and Sherlock you observe the parking lot. Three police cars stood in the very middle of the place, no one cared if the parked their car in the garden of the house owner. Also the two gray cars with flashlights on top of their car's ceiling, are placed disregardful. Shaking your head about how ignorant people can be you step next to John Watson. "Hey" you greet, still a little out of breath. You swallow hard before you dare to look at the other man's face, who stares at you in confusion. "My name's Abigail Masters", you offer politely. Your heart bumping hard against your chest and your hands sweating, as you stretch out your small hand for him to shake it. But that never happened. He just shakes his head and you slowly pull away your arm and form your hands into a fist, pressing so hard it starts hurting. You enjoy the hurt in your arm, it's something you can control, not like the pain in your chest which is unbearable and makes you turn numb.
The gray haired man raises his eyebrows and speaks to Sherlock:"What's she doing here?" Sherlock who looks perplex, squints his eyes and simply says:"Friend of ours, Lestrade"
"You can't keep bringing your friends to a bloody crime scene!" he yells, but quickly calms down as he catches peeks from the police man and women around him.
"You haven't found corpses nor evidence. This ain't a crime scene, do your research, Graham"
"Dammit, Sherlock. It's Greg!" he says pissed and turns around leaving.
You shyly look through your eyelashes up to Sherlock. He stares down at you and winks, showing the tiny wrinkles around his eyes. You can't help but smile back at him, and then look at John who started chuckling uncontrollably. Soon all three of you fell into genuine laughs. You watch Lestrade when he gestures wildly while talking to a black women with curly brown hair. She answers equally pissed, and a skinny man with relatively long brown hair joins them. You raise your eyebrows, and glance over at Sherlock, who was already looking at you, trying to read you. You put on a fake smile, so he won't worry.
After you walked behind the house into a big yard, with beautiful green mow on it, Sherlock's starts babbling fast, like really fast. He talked faster than one of those French high-speed trains. " Nine people went missing, the murderer confessed he killed all of them. He told the police how he killed them, why he killed them and where he killed them. But not a word about where he buried them. Why would someone do that?"
You blinked repeatedly as you starred open-mouthed at Sherlock, you've never seen him like that, it was mind blowing. He continued,"Not making sense. He didn't burn them..."
"How do you know?"you interrupt.
Confused he shakes his head and looks at you,"Obvious."he stated without a further explanation.
"Ehm, alright then" you mumble, and look down on the floor the whole time Sherlock was mumbling all the facts about the victims and the murderer.
Suddenly you hear a women screaming something you don't quit understand. Everybody started moving towards the black women, who earlier talked with Lestrade. She was the one who yelled. When you are near enough to actually hear what's going on you figure out that one of the police dogs found something and now they are digging for it. An excited spark lay in the air, everyone got nervous and started shifting from one foot to the other as two muscular men dug deeper. Suddenly they could see a small figure on the ground, everyone is holding their breath, the two men look at each other and kneel down to dig further, with their in gloves covered hands. A disappointed groan runs through the crowd when they figure out, that the small figure was just a dog, that got buried there. The crowd slowly moved away but you just kept standing there looking down at the hole. Finally everyone was gone, Sherlock and John stood 20 feet away from you and talked to each other, mainly Sherlock talked, the doctor only listened. You move forward, closer to the hole in the ground. Squinting your eyes you kneel down, your knees touching the mud. Carefully you take out the dog's remains, and place them next to you. After that you put one of the plastic covers over the skeleton to keep the smell from making you vomit.
You grab after the scoop, next to the hole. You start digging deeper. Only Sherlock sees you, and walks over to you with hesitation. "What are you doing?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Digging" you return with sarcasm.
He just gives you a bitch face and you add:"Well, I once read this thing on tumblr. It was a masterpost about how to kill people without getting in charge for it, or something. There stood that you should bury your victim six feet under a dead dog. So if the police dog smells the corpse, the policemen will only find the dead dog instead of the body that's lying underneath."
He stays silent for a moment, just stares at you. The same did John, you started getting uncomfortable and quickly add:"It's worth a shot"
"You are brilliant!" Sherlock stated a fat grin plastered on his handsome face. He turns around himself and hugs you close to his chest, before placing a kiss on your cheek. With wide eyes you stare at him. He picks up the other scoops and hands one to John, before he helps you digging. After half an hour, Sherlock jumps out the hole and smiles. He helps you and John out of the hole and waves Lestrade to you. He arrives with his eyes rolling in annoyance. "Abby found them" John states calmly and turns around to leave. You wipe your hands on your jeans and follow Sherlock and John back the street where you came from. Once you looked back at Lestrade who stood there, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish. You smiled and winked at him, before hurrying after John and Sherlock.