Holmes was silent for most of the way to my apartment, seemingly lost in his own world. "So, Dr. Watson, married life didn't suit you?"
I slammed on the brakes, not carrying about the honking cars behind me. "What? How did you know?" I stammered.
He was amused. "Maybe you should pull over and let me drive?"
I shook my head as I continued on, still gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles were white. "I'll be ok. We're only a few blocks away. But I would appreciate it if you could tell me…"
"How I did it? It's really quite simple. First of all, Watson is not a common last name for an Asian girl like yourself- either one of your parents was not of Asian ancestry- or you were married. Having observed the picture of your family on your office desk, I was able to eliminate the first possibility. So I came to the conclusion you were married. Not unlikely, as you are in your late twenties."
I nodded mutely.
He continued. "But you weren't wearing a ring, even though you do have a slight ring tan. At first I thought that it might be because you were at work; many doctors do remove their jewelry in case they lose it in scrubbing or what not. The ring tan is fading, and you refer to the apartment as 'mine' and not 'ours.' Finally, the divorce papers in the backseat confirmed beyond a doubt my deductions."
I was torn between amazement at the logical progression of his observations and indignity at his inconsideration of bringing up a matter that was still too painful for me to discuss.
"That was pretty sharp of you, Mr. Holmes," I managed to say, fingering the chain with my old wedding band that I wore around my neck, tucked underneath my shirt.
He looked extremely pleased at my compliment. "Merely a simple deductive exercise," he commented as I parked and we got out.
"However amazing your deductive abilities are, I'd appreciate it if you don't bring up my past anymore." My voice was pained as I fumbled through my bag for the apartment keys.
His face was expressionless.
I let him in the apartment and showed him to the computer in the study. After I had logged in, Holmes became preoccupied with the search, running through the system with a familiar ease.
I proceeded to make myself a late dinner, which I consumed while finishing up the
pile of paperwork I brought home from the office. Just one of those nights- me, the
couch, paperwork, ramen, and a bit of Dvorak's New World Symphony going in the background.
Oh, and Mr. Jake Holmes, detective extraordinaire, staring intently at my computer
screen.
AN: Flame me if necessary! I need encouragement ;)