Chapter 10

"Two men who travelled back from China were murdered, and the killer left their messages in hangzhou numerals," Sherlock said. We went back to Soo Lin Yao's work, hoping to find any more information concerning her whereabouts. Although I did kinda feel guilty since I already knew where she was, but I played along since I wasn't supposed to and part of me felt like my presence was somehow shifting the story off its intended course.

"Soo Lin Yao is in danger." John stood there with his arms crossed. "Now that cipher, it was just the same pattern as the others. He means to kill her as well." The way we were ganging up on this poindexter made me feel like we were his parents trying to keep him off the computer.

"Look, I've tried everywhere. Um, friends, colleagues, I-I don't know where she's gone. I mean she could be a thousand miles away." I swear, he was about to wet himself from how intimidating we making ourselves out to be.

"What are you looking at?" John had noticed Sherlock's attention was strangely focused away from us and onto the display case of teapots. My own eyes had been flickering toward them the entire time.

"You, sonny boy, tell us more about these pots." I pointed at them as we migrated closer.

"Th-the pots were her obsession. Um, they need urgent work. If, if they dry out the clay can start to crumble. Apparently you just have to keep making tea in them." All I could think about when he talked was how much he just needed to get laid.

Sherlock crouched down to their level and examined them critically. "Yesterday only one of those pots was shining." When he said "pots" the p was explosive, like he was trying to make it emphatic. "Now there are two." He got to his feet. "We'll need access to the building after closing hours. Shouldn't be too hard to manage. All you need to do is make sure that the employee entrance is unlocked. Can you do that?"

"Well, I-I could leave later after everyone else is gone..." He fidgeted nervously.

"Excellent." Sherlock began to leave, and John and I followed him. "She'll come out late at night to make the tea, and then we can ask our questions." He was walking out rather quickly, but didn't realize that it resident nerd still had a question.

"Sherlock, wait," I said, pulling on his coat.

He turned around. "What?" Then he noticed the look on the man's face. "Looking for her now would be ill advised, she's in hiding and if we seek her out she will most likely run or fight back. It would be a matter of seconds before she mistook us as those pursuing her."

"Are you sure there is nothing I can do?" He looked so hopeless and dejected. I knew he had liked her, but I didn't realize it was this sincere.

"No. You'll just get in the way." And of course, the morning couldn't really start until Sherlock's complete and utter insincerity penetrated every ray of sunshine with its gloom and drowned every new born puppy using his dirty bathwater.

So I smacked on the back of the head.

He looked at me. "Not good?"

"Ya think?" I said in exasperation. "Sometimes you can be so thick." I walked over to the guy who looked sheepish. "Listen, I know you like her," I said, and he stared up at me in confusion. "Don't ask, it's not important. Anyway, you like her right?" He nodded. "Alright, you also know she's in danger, and she's been hiding and most likely very hungry." Tea could only take you so far...

"I don't understand," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and turning his eyes downward again.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and scoffed. I paused, went over to smack him on the back of the head again, then returned. "Ignore him. What you should do is lay out a bit of food for her so when she emerges she has something to eat. Does that make sense?" This guy needed everything spoon fed to him.

"Y-yes." His shoulders hunched over themselves in a defeated manner.

"Hey, look at me." I had to virtually lift his chin so he would make eye contact. "Whatever she said to you, just think that she might have said it in your protection." I was bull shitting this part, but I had to make him feel at least a little better about himself. "Soo Lin Yao is a kind person, that's why you liked her, right? There is nothing worse for kind people then to think they caused someone else pain." He looked at me like I was a lifeline. Dude, could you be more awkward?

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Apologies, but we really must be going." I mentally sighed, but broke away. "Thank you for all the help you've been," Sherlock said. He gave a little smile. "Let's go." The three of us left, heading back to Baker street. It was a quiet ride, but not tense. Sherlock and I had expunged most of our pent up angst towards each other during the night. Oh dear God that sounded bad. Let me clarify: we spent the night in deep conversation. There, that sounds better.

When we made our way inside, I made a motion to return to my own flat, but found my path blocked by Sherlock. Seeing this, John promptly moved upstairs with haste.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked, tilting my head to one side. "Because if not there is a couch I need to retrieve for my flat so I don't have to crash at your place. But if you insist on interrupting me, then by all means go right on ahead. I have no qualms about stealing your bedroom for another night." Damn it! Everything I was saying lately sounded like an bloody innuendo.

"I am correct in deducing that you were angered by my lack of compassion at the museum earlier." Sherlock didn't even make an attempt at feigning he could be wrong. Oh no, he was correct. Not could be, or might be. He just stood there, looking his nose down at me with his popped collar and blue scarf.

I rubbed my forehead. "No Sherlock, not angry per se. Irritated would be more accurate. Although if you haven't applied the concepts we talked about last night, at least you bothered enough to recognize them. I guess I couldn't hold your attention span long enough for you to absorb that last tidbit." I put my hands on my heart in mock offense. "Gentlemen are so hard to find these days." He seemed mollified, so I moved again to my flat.

Once more I was blocked. "If I pledge my time later in helping you, will you accompany me upstairs?" Sherlock was being persistent. I figured he wouldn't let me go until I said yes, so I decided to milk the situation for all it worth.

"What's the magic word?" I teased him, a smile playing openly on both corners of my mouth.

He was taken aback. "I do not pretend to comprehend your meaning." I stared at him in disbelief, mouth hanging slightly agape. "Helen, you
know that oftentimes open mouths invite themselves to have flies and the like swoop in and catch you unawares?"

I snapped it shut. "I'm just trying to gauge whether or not you told the truth or were just joking." My eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Joking?" By this time he was equally befuddled.

"Or you could have been lying to avoid saying it!" I said suddenly, pointing my finger intently at him. "You do know what the magic word is, admit it!" My eyebrows were nearly at my hairline they were raised so high.

"What is this magic word you keep going on about?" Sherlock was either acting genuinely ignorant, or he could really not know...

John came back down the stairs, dressed for work. He was nearly laughing. "Helen, you should know that he doesn't know that word. He thinks himself above it, and hence believes it's usage below him." John buttoned up his jacket.

"Could the two of you relate to me what this infernal word it is you keep referring to?" Sherlock was looking back and forth between the two of us, wringing his hands in exasperation.

"Oh God, of course." I began to shake my head in understanding. "Well, until he figures it out, I'm not moving from this spot." My arms crossed themselves as I leaned against the hall wall. "You'll be back in time for the museum, right?"

"Course I will," he said. He opened the door and looked back at us. "Sherlock, you might want to try your hand at courtesy. Helen, try not to kill him as he fails at courtesy." John tipped his head to us and was off, shutting the door firmly behind him.

It was silent for a moment while I purposely ignored Sherlock. I let my eyes wander all around the landing, taking in the wonderful wallpaper and gorgeous crown moulding. He didn't say anything, so I looked at his shoes and slowly made my way up. It excited me just a little bit as I did so, I mean, he WAS Sherlock Holmes being played by Benedict Cumberbatch. Finally my sight reached his face, and those damn cheekbones. It would be perfect if he just wasn't a complete jerk.

"Problem?" he asked me casually. Neither one of us had moved a centimetre.

"Not at all," I said with a nasty smile. If only he could move.

"So this word the two of you were referring to," he began. "Would you perhaps care to share this information with persons in close proximity to you?"

"I think you know what it is," I reiterated. "Maybe you don't remember, but I'm sure you've used it at least once in your life. And if not that, you have to understand its meaning, and the repercussions that can befall you of one does not use it." There was no way I was breaking before he did.

He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. I assumed he was delving into the vast capacities of his memory. I also closed my eyes, humming style nonsense melody while I waited for him. He however, was a very sore loser, I just didn't realize that at the time I closed my eyes. Mere seconds after humming, I found myself over his shoulder like a sack of vegetables.

"You cheeky dick waffle!" I squirmed and kicked at him. "Let me down you purveyor of pestilence, you harbinger of harlotry, you cesspool of contagion!" My body jerked as he carried me like I was no more weight then a rag doll.

"Escape at this point would be idiotic," he informed me calmly. "If you weren't paying attention, I am currently walking up a flight of stairs. To fall now would most certainly cause your own death. Unless your intention is suicide, it would be most prudent to remain still." He was bloody enjoying this!

"You are the biggest bastard the world has ever known," I growled. "The next time you go to the dentist, I hope he pulls out your teeth. Then maybe you'd shut up and learn some human decency."

We reached the top. "Human decency, how utterly boring." I yelped as he adjusted me and my whole body bounced slightly. "If everyone practiced human decency, I would be out of a job." We made it into their sitting room, but I was still on his shoulder.

"Okay, you can let me down now." My arms and legs hung limply as I waited. "Come on, I'm in your flat, you've got what you wanted. Now let me go."

"What's the magic word?" he asked nonchalantly.

I glowered openly. "Don't you turn that on me Mr. Holmes, I am not amused." I let my limbs flail once more. "Could you be any more of an ass if you tried?"

I heard the laugh rumble through his body and knew it was hopeless. Either I could tell him, or learn to live the rest of my life on his shoulder. It was time to throw in the towel.

"You want to know what the word is?" I asked in defeat. He didn't say anything, so I figured I'd just answer. "The word is 'please'. Now, please let me down. I'm sure you're starting to lose circulation in your arm." After a pause he let me down, slowly so I wasn't jolted unexpectedly. I brushed off and smoothed my clothes. "Thank you." I looked back at him, and was startled to see his face. There was something off, some emotion in him I couldn't place. Whatever, I didn't really care. He could go on disliking me as long as he wanted, but I wasn't going away.

Instead, I'd make him pay.

"Now Sherlock Holmes, you will accompany me back downstairs." It wasn't so much a request as a demand. "I accompanied you up here, now you will pledge your time to extricating the sofa." My eyes gleamed at the prospect. Making the Sherlock Holmes perform manual labour. Hah, I laughed at the very thought.

He stood there solemnly. "No," he said, then quickly retreated to his chair to read the newspaper.

"Sherlock Holmes, take some responsibility!" And I spent the remainder of my day shouting at a silent figure, whose only response was an occasional smirk. Dick...

What up my lovely readers? I'd like to take some time to clarify certain aspects of this story, either because someone may have mentioned it in a review or I just wanted to make it obvious.

First, yes this is an OC story and the summary says she's paired with Sherlock, but please realize that it is going to take forever for them to get together. I mean, really, forever. FOREVER! Hehe, yeah, a long time. I might even change the summary so it says eventual OC/Sherlock.

Second, I know how awesome you guys think Helen is, but before someone says it, she isn't a Mary Sue. Yes, she knows everything that's going to happen and APPEARS smarter then Sherlock, but she isn't. She's only so cool and smart because she knows what's going on before it actually happens. So there.

Third, I will never abandon this story forever. Trust me, it will be finished one day. I love to update.

And last, and this is for my own benefit not yours, but I love it when you guys quote my story in your reviews. Seriously, those are the best kind. Why? Because it lets me know exactly what you find so darn funny. Believe me, any humour you guys find is unintentional. I just write what I think sounds good and witty, and if by consequence it's funny, then that's great! It's nice to know I have some capability in that area, even if by accident.

If you liked this and want to see more, drop me a review. If you do drop me a review and/or save this story to your alerts and/or favorites, that will make me even happier and more likely to write the next chapter. If you feel like I'm taking to long to update this story, then feel free to friend me on facebook and bug me about it there. The link is in my profile.