The Baker Street flat filled with boxes and boxes of books. Everywhere they piled high, making it harder and harder to move around. Melody tapped Johns shoulder and held out her phone for him to read her message. He looked at her and chuckled.
"Yes, I suppose you can get some sleep. You don't seem to be showing any signs of a concussion. But we'll be waking you up every three hours to check on you." John said, looking at her with a stern expression.
"Sleep in my room." Sherlock said, causing Mel to look over at him. "I won't be in there tonight, and it will be easier for us to come check on you. My pyjama bottoms are in the bottom drawer. Feel free to use a pair."
Mel just nodded in mild shock. She waved at the boys before turning and heading back to Sherlock's room. John looked at the Consulting Detective with a knowing smirk.
About ten minutes later, a couple of constables brought in more boxes, finishing off the delivery. Some boxes were labelled Van Coon, some were labelled Lukis. Sherlock and John sat amidst a huge stack, slowly sifting through book titles.
"So. The numbers - they're references." Sherlock explained.
"To books?" John asked.
"To specific pages. And specific words on those pages."
"Right. So... '15' and '1'... That means.."
"You turn to page fifteen and it's the first word that you read."
"OK. So? What's the message?"
"Depends on the book. It would never be the same book twice. That's the cunning of a book code." Sherlock said, staring at the burgeoning piles. "It's got to be something they both own."
"OK, fine. Well this shouldn't take too long, should it?" John started to make a painstaking list of all the books and then attempts to cross-reference them.
Dimmock entered, carrying a stack of papers sealed in an evidence bag. "We found these. At the museum. Is this your writing?" he asked, putting them under Sherlock's nose. It's the pages of scribbled ciphers that he asked Soo-Lin to translate.
"We hoped maybe Soo-Lin could decipher it." John explained.
Neither of the men examined it. Instead, Sherlock grabbed the bundle of evidence and flung it on his desk amidst the jumble.
Dimmock hovered for a moment - trying to see what they were doing."I see Melody isn't here. is everything alright?"
"She went to get some rest. I gave her the go ahead. She looked like she needed it." John informed him.
"Ahh. Anything else I can do? To assist you, I mean." Dimmock asked, hoping to get in on the action.
Without looking up, Sherlock spoke in a monotone voice. "Some silence would be marvellous."
Dimmock sloped out, disappointed to not be one of the gang.
In the coming hours, John located identical pairs of books and handed them to two intermittently woke Melody,making sure she was doing alright. Through a series of attempts to match the numbers to words in different books, nothing was turining out. The fifteenth page and the first word written there were always something insignificant. The word was always something innocuous like 'and' or 'the'. Or occasionally something saucy like 'bum'.
"The thing about a book code - it has to be a book that all of the gang members own. And one that they all have access to..." SHerlock mumbled.
"Can't run around town with the works of Shakespeare in your pocket." John mused.
An alarm clock rang loudly, signaling that they had worked through the night.
"I've got to get ready for work. Do me a favour, check on Melody would you?" He asked, standing up and stretching.
Sherlock looked up and nodded, which was all John needed to head up to his room. Sherlock stood, shaking out his limbs to get the blood flowing again. Making sure not to step on any books, he carefully made his way to his bedroom. He opened the door quietly to see Melody curled up under his blanket, facing him with her hair splayed across the pillow. He slipped into the room and shut the door leaving the morning light that was shining through the cracked curtains as the only light in the room. He carefully sank onto the bed and positioned himself so that he was on top of the covers beside her.
"Melody?" he said quietly.
Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled softly. "Hi." she said, her voice quiet, but less raspy than it had been.
"It's morning. John is getting ready for work."
"Have you been to sleep yet?"
"No, we've been working all night."
Mel frowned, her brows scrunching together. "Take a nap. Just a few hours, three tops. We can set an alarm. I'm still a bit tired. After the nap, I'll take over for John and help with the books."
Sherlock thought for a moment, then broke down, nodding, "Alright. Three hours. I'll set an alarm."
He got up, taking his phone from his pocket and setting an alarm. He turned to her as he put his phone on the night stand. "Close your eyes, I'm going to change." he instructed.
She closed her eyes and covered her head, feeling herself slowly starting to fall asleep. Sherlock quickly changed, then removed the blanket from over her head. He slid in beside her, pulling the blanket back over them and settling in. He laid on his back and pulled her into his side. She placed her head on his chest and smiled. She could hear his heartbeat steadily pumping in his chest. The steady rhythm quickly lulled her to sleep, and much to Sherlock's surprise, he followed soon after.
Three hours went by far too fast. When the alarm on Sherlock's phone went off, they both groaned, not wanting to get up. He rolled over and turned the alarm off then rolled back over to see Melody, pouting up at him.
"Five more minutes. Please?" she practically whined.
He chuckled, his deep baritone filling her ears. "Five minutes." he agreed.
She leaned up on her elbow, her free hand resting on his chest. "Why did you choose me to show this side of you? I'm not complaining at all, Im just curious. Everyone seems to think you're this heartless man, but I know that's not true."
"I chose you because I trust you. You are one of the few people in my life who has defended me regardless of the things I've said and done. I know I often say that emotion is weakness, but I believe that you make me stronger. You're intelligent andyou have proven yourself capable of keeping up with me both physically and intellectually during cases. I feel for you in a way that I don't quite understand. I'm protective over you, but not in the way I am over John. I feel as though if I were to lose you, my life would be changed for the worse." he admitted.
She looked at him with a gleam in her eyes, moving her hand from his chest to his cheek. "May I kiss you?" she whispered.
"I'd be rather insulted if you didn't." he smirked.
She closed her eyes, leaned down, and softly pressed her lips to his. He moved his hand up to her cheek and returned the kiss. It was soft, yet passionate, showing just how he felt about her. When they finally broke apart, she opened her eyes and smiled.
"Come along, Holmes. We've got work to do." she said, giving him one last, chaste kiss before rolling out of bed and heading to the main area where all of the books were.
Sherlock followed close behind, smiling as they both sat down in the middle of a pile of books, writing down a list as they went. A few hours in, Melody suggested that they get cleaned up seeing as how they were both still in a mixture of pyjamas and yesterday's clothes. They took turns getting a shower and getting dressed, going right back to the books once they were finished. Sherlock wore his usual dress shirt, while Melody decided to go for a sweater with a neckline that covered the handprint shaped bruises.
"How do you feel about a date tonight?" Sherlock asked suddenly.
"A date?" Melody asked, mildly shocked.
"Yes, a date."
"I don't suppose this has something to do with the case?"
"There's a Chinese circus in town. I think it may be connected to our smuggling ring."
"Ah. Well, I suppose it could be interesting. I'm in. but this doesn't count as an official date." She countered. "I know you'll be dragging John along, so I don't count it as a real date."
"Deal. We'll go out on a real date once this case is solved, agreed?"
"Agreed. Now, if it's alright with you, I think I'm going to take a break and start on dinner."
"Of course. If you need anything, I'll be here."
Mel went to her and her mum's apartment to find the older woman busy baking. "Hello, mum. Busy baking away are we?"
Mrs. Hudson smiled and nodded. "Just some scones. Would you like me to bring you all some when they've finished?"
"That would be lovely. I'm going to make dinner. Red wine vinegar chicken. I'll bring you some when it's finished."
"Thank you, dear. Are you feeling alright? Your voice is awfully hoarse. Maybe I'll bring you up some tea and honey as well."
"I'm alright, mum. Just a bit of a sore throat. Some tea would be lovely, thanks." Mel asked, gathering her last few ingredients. Her mother didn't need to worry about her being hurt on cases. Instead, it was easier to just keep her in the dark. "Need anything while I'm down here?"
"No, love, I'm alright."
"Okay. Well, I'm headed up. See you in a bit, yeah?" She kissed her mum on the cheek and made her way back upstairs to Sherlock's kitchen. When she entered the flat, he was still flicking through book after book.
"Any luck?" she asked, getting the kitchen ready.
"Not yet." he huffed. "What's a book that everyone would own?" he asked her, going to his own bookshelves.
"The Bible, The Oxford English Dictionary, Dan Brown, Nigella Lawson, Jamie Oliver." she listed.
Sherlock took down all the classic books and examined them one by one to see if they unlocked the code. No luck.
John entered almost an hour later in a bit of a panic. Melody was plating the food, and Sherlock was putting another book back on his shelf.
"I need to get some air to the brain. We're going out tonight." Sherlock said to John.
"Actually - I've got a date." The blonde man said, taking off his jacket.
"What?"
"It's where people who like each other go out and have fun.
"That's what I was suggesting."
Not quite, love." Melody laughed.
"At least I hope not..." John added.
Sherlock found his wallet and began digging through it. "Where you taking her?"
"Cinema."
"Hardly original. What about this?" He pulled out a scrap of paper. It was the tiny shred of a poster that he peeled off the wall from the railway arches. "In London for one night only."
"Thanks, but I don't come to you for dating advice." John looked at the paper - no picture. Just a scrap that said 'CIRCUS' and had the box office phone number.
Mel placed three plates on the table, one with an obviously smaller portions meant for Sherlock. She took a forth plate and headed for the flat downstairs. "You really should, you know. Take his advice I mean." She said to John as she passed him. "He knows what he's doing."
Once she was gone, John sighed. He looked at Sherlock, who was sitting at the table waiting for Mel. "Sly git." he mumbled before taking out his phone and dialing the number on the paper.
