"How did you do it?" A cop asked, crossing his arms.
"Easily." I said with a shrug, making both cops shake their heads.
"So, this is a confession?" The same cop asked and I stared at both of them, brows together.
"It's not that big of a deal." I muttered, looking away. There was a tense silence before the main cop slammed his hands on the table.
"You are one sick person!" I stared at him, a bit bored and a bit confused. These resort people took stealing a bit too far…
"Dude, it's not like anyone cares! No one even noticed! Well, until now." I said the last part more to myself.
"That's it!" The other cop in the room said, walking over and grabbing my arm.
"Hey!" I growled as he made me stand. I could feel the blood stopped where he held my arm. "What the fu-" The door to the security room opened. My mouth dropped as none other then Sherlock Holmes sauntered in, a man limping came in behind him. He stopped in front of the square table, hands in his pockets as he did a once over on me, eyes staying a fraction of a millisecond on the hand that was on my arm before looking to my face.
"You are quite good at making things worse." He said with a sigh, before looking to the cop holding me. "I suggest you release her." He said, almost bored like.
"Why's that Mr. Consulting detective?" The man asked, saying it with disgust.
"Because she was with me at the time of the murder." My head snapped to Sherlock, eyes wide.
"What?" I nearly choked. Murder? Well… At least now I know why there were making me stealing such a big deal… I winced as I thought about what I said. God, I always seem to dig myself deeper.
"You have any proof freak?" The cop asked, only to make Sherlock sigh. He pulled something out of his pocket before holding it out to the side to the head cop.
"A receipt from the restaurant we went to." Both the man that walked in with Sherlock and I stared at him with brows together. "The date and time are on the bottom." He continued as the cop took it.
"Let her go." The leading one said, sighing.
"You've got to-"
"Just do it." With that, the man let me for and I stuck my tongue out at him. The three of us left, and once outside I stopped and glared at Sherlock.
"What in the hell did you do to me?" I asked, punching his chest. The shooter man with him looked at us with wide eyes, as if I just set off a volcano. Sherlock merely just stared at me with a raised eyebrow.
"I myself didn't do a thing. Well, except gave you an alibi." I glared at him, the short man stared at me confused, and Sherlock looked amused at all of this. "Come John." He said, I'm guessing to the short man, and turned on his heels walking away. The shot man, nodded at me with a sad smile and limped after Sherlock, making me glare. I took off one of my shoes and threw it at the back of Sherlock's head. It was as if I hit a switch, making time freeze. As he slowly, far too slowly, turned around to stare at me with narrowed eyes, I realized that, that maybe wasn't the best idea I've ever had. But this man sends my rage into a whole new spiral! Not three hours ago he blatantly told me everything I've ever done, felt and thought in my life, leaving me feeling hollow. And now, out of no where, I was arrested because they thought I murdered someone?
"Look here detective-"
"Consulting detective." He said, looking away as if bored. My eye twitched, my vision seeing red.
"Fine. Look here you ignorant, arrogant, son of a bitch, fucking consulting detective." He smiled, and if I knew any better, which I did, it was the fakest smile he could muster. "Whatever is going down, I. Want. In." The short, blond hair man at this point had walked away, looking both terrified and intrigued, but decided against staying.
"Why?" Sherlock asked, eyes narrowed. He looked as if he were trying to dissect me, his cold, blue eyes trying to open my mind to understand. I looked right back, not afraid of this man.
*Sherlock's POV*
I laid on the couch, bored.
"Sherlock." John said, coming out of his bedroom. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, standing in front of the oval table by the couch.
"Doing what?" I asked, sighing.
"Oh don't play dumb!" He groaned, making me smirk.
"Never have to."
"Look, I know your bored, but this!" He was whispering now, holding his hand out to point to the patio. "Is insane!" He said, as if scolding me.
"Her name." I said, stopping whatever he was going to say next to annoy me further. There was a long pause before he spoke again.
"So. You took her to lunch, stopped her from being arrested and now are letting her stay here with us to help with the case, all because of her name?" He asked, making me scuff.
"Don't be silly John." I said, smirking a bit. "I took her to lunch because I knew she would be blamed for the murder, being as she was wearing the uniform of the deceased."