Chapter 28


"Told you so! You most certainly can do it," John congratulated with a solid pat on the back,"Wasn't as bad as you though it was, right?"

He shrugged offthe comment and returned the walking aid to the inner breast coat pocket, but his face said more than what words could ever write justice to.

John saw him smile to himself, a genuine smile that reached his whole face, and even though blind, his eyes still were just as expressive if he had sight. It was a rare occasion for the man to display such an amount of true, raw and completely honest sentiment.

No words were needed to describe the amount of self-confidence, and success Sherlock found in himself once he overcame his intial fear. It wasn't smooth sailing just yet, but they rode over the rough patch and made it to where they proverbially stood now.

Linked arm in arm the two set off to find their ride to the crime scene.


"So this is the main lobby and just left is the lift," Lestrade swept his hand across pointing out the building's ground floor layout as he led everyone to take the lift to the tenth floor.

"John, tell me more." Sherlock whispered into his friend's ear as they were squeezed into the very back of the lift which was packed tight with other Yard member. Even though the crime was commited on the tenth floor, deducing the scene started the moment the two set foot through the double door main entrance.

John nodded and rattled off in a volume only Sherlock could hear about every single detail he could remember from start to finish of the entire lobby area.

"Good eye John," Sherlock commended as they exited last from the lift, You're getting better with each time. You choose the words much more carefully now, and are more accurate in your measurements of distance and depth. I know exactly what the lobby looks like now. Now for the fun part, the crime scene." He had a wild grin and rubbed his hands together a bit too gleefully.

-0-

"So, this is the desk where the intruder stole the documents. It's remained the same from the photo we have on record," John walked around the furniture and audibly noted the content of papers strewn all over the place, commented on the scribbles of reminders decorating the large full size desk calendar and personal pocket book agenda opened to the week the crime was committed. Like Sherlock had pointed out earlier back at the Yard, the criminal knew where the information was and all of this mess was the "window dressing", nothing on the two planners contained information of any value to the men.

By the time John and Sherlock finished examining the desk area and letting forensics snap a few more photographs, they shrunk off into a corner discussing the possible ideas for what the next step would be to take.

Closing the last drawer on the file cabinet, Lestrade accidentally pushed it a little too forcefully shut. It was old and required an extra shove for the rolling mechanisms to work., tat caused an avalanche of more printed pages from onto of the cabinet to litter the office floor. Landing on the very top pile was a handwritten note. It contained a bright yellow half print/half cursive large script on a black sheet of fine quality printer paper with four simple words, "DARE TO FIND ME."

With that bit of new information, it changed the entire persepective on the case. No longer where they merely trying to restore stolen articles, they now were dealing with a person or persons who wanted to play. One who were taunting the police, detectives, and the corporation to go after them.

"How interesting, this brings up the rating to a seven at least," Sherlock remarked happily, "If anything else shows up it may rank as my most intersting non-death related case to date. I'll have to examine it at the Lab." He pocketed the paper carefully in an evidence bag and then the two men followed everyone back to the car park.

No one spoke the entire ride back, save for the one time the automated voice over on Sherlock's stated the current time. Each man was in his own mind contemplating the note's meaning.

-0-

"Molly" Sherlock bellowed as he swung the lab room's double door entrance wide with both hands open causing the huge slabs of bullet-proof, shatter proof, sturdy material swing violently on its hinges behind John's heels.

Requested person didn't even bother rising from her comfy office chair of which she currently occupied with her feet propped up on the desk, whilst enjoying a well-deserved break munching on some digestives. She was just relaxing in her office for a moment to mentally collect herself before going home when she heard the man's footfalls come from all the down the far end of the hospital corridor.

Perhaps that wasn't entirely true, but whoELSE would cause such a racket in the hallway leading to the morgue? There was one and only one man who possessed enough dramatic flair to announce his presence in a bold manner.

I really don't want to be at the lab any longer. Well! There goes my chance to go home, now he's here he will want to do something. Argh! I'm terribly exhausted from taking this double shift and working on so many post-mortems today. If he want some body parts for experimenting then he'll have to pry me out of my chair- have fun trying that...I am not moving.

"Molly," Sherlock belted out again, "Where are you? Are you here? You should be here. I know you're here, you always have work on this day of the week. I require your assistance. It's for a case. It's important. Molly!"

"Sherlock, mate! Really! " John chastised strongly placing a hand on his shoulder to stop the man from screaming himself hoarse, "that's no way to talk to a lady, especially Molly. Bless her for putting up with you and your eccentric less-than-polite ways. Now. Try again in a nicer, calmer, and gentler voice then maybe she'll come out of hiding."

Taking his friend to the centre of the lab room and let him lean against one of the work tables lining the large room.

Sherlock cleared his throat, cocked his head to the side then amended his poorly ways, "Molly, would you be a dear and come out of hiding from your office? I can hear you in there scuffling around. Please stop munching on those digestives, they're really not too healthy for you, don't eat so many at once. I require your assistance on analysing this piece of evidence. Will you come?"

"Eh. Nice try Sherlock, could skip out on the part with her eating. Just stick with a nice pleasant sounding request, not a deduction," John commented as Molly emerged from her office still holding onto the box of digestives. She glared at the smug man and bit back a few unladylike words.

How dare he be right! Argh! I will eat as many as I wish to.

"What do you want Sherlock, it's only a little bit into the afternoon," Molly drawled out between bites of the digestive, "I know you have my schedule memorised even betters I do myself. So, I know you know that I just finished a double shift, and currently in the process of heading home right this instant. Make your request quick, and maybe, just maybe I'll help you with the case."

Sherlock's smug smile was replaced instantly with a look of pitiful pleading. "But I need you,"he pleaded with large doe-like expressive eyes, "you HAVE to help me. It's for an important case. I have a note that needs to be analysed, it could be the key to everything I could know about the criminal and the intent. You can't go home now Molly, this is too important to miss."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, the exhausted pathologist exhaled sharply several times. Speaking through a clench jaw, she consented begrudingly, "Fine, but be quick about it. I really want to go home and sleep."

"Certainly," he whipped out the note from his coat, passed it to her, and caught her wrist before she could draw back, " Thank you Molly, I mean it. I need analysis on the entie content. Ink composition analysis. Paper analysis and I will work on the penmenship," turning to John he added, "You do know there is a direct correlation between a person's behaviour and his wirting style, right?"

"Sure Sherlock, everyone knows that. Well, now I do. So what are you saying? Because I'm a doctor, I have poor handwriting and thus a bad person?" he quipped and poked Sherlock in the shoulder jokingly.

"Course not John, you're not a bad person at all. Don't be so ordinary and boring. Besides, everyone knows only I can read and understand your handwriting." Sherlock flashed a goofy smile to his best friend, "No, it's actully an analysis of how the person writes every letter. It depends on whether the person is male or female, left -handed or right-handed, whether the person prefers script versus print, and all sorts of other little details to note. **Shall we begin?"

Together the three set off to perform the necessary experiments for understanding everything the note contained. Dear sweet Molly started analysing the compositions straight away whilst John worked with Sherlock on deciphering the handwriting.

"So, right here the "D" is in a half script-half print form leaning slightly to the right. Looks a bit like mine, maybe he's left handed too. Give me your hand, I'll show you." John positioned Sherlock's fingers stragetically over his left-hand so he could tell how each letter was written.

"The straight stroke starts here with a lot of weight, since the ink bled through the backside, but lightened up as he finished it. For the curved part, the pen started like this," he moved Sherlock's fingers around slightly he could judge the weight pressed into the paper against the angle at which John wrote.

"How interesting, for one thing is certain. This is a man's handwriting," Sherlock inferred as he mimicked the script of the D on a fresh piece of paper without John's guidance, "A woman with this kind of criminal nature, and possibly working in an multi-storey large scale office complex corporation would have excellent penmanship. What about the next letter?"

The two methodically worked their way through each letter noting every curve, dot, and weight finishing off the letters. Sherlock practised the left handed, and well educated man's handwriting repeatedly, thus committing it to his immediate memory.


A-N: Apologies for being away so long. My muse kept wandering off to write other short stories in "You Have Always Counted", but I've now planned in advance for this story, so I hope the updating times will not be as far spread out. Thank you for your patience, comments, favourite, follows.

**Couldn't resist a little Kahn in here. Star Trek for the win! All of the original series and new ones. (/\_/\)