AN: I've got the next couple of chapters mapped out, so I should be able to post the next very soon.
Thank you all for the favorites and the follow. Reviews are also helpful! This is my first fic of any sort, so I am eager to get some feedback! :)
Chapter 4
John paid the cabbie and took in his surroundings.
"Alright, Sherlock. Where are you?" John muttered to himself.
"Right here, John."
John jumped and was able to stifle the yelp that threatened to erupt from his throat.
"Sherlock! Jesus, you scared me!" Sherlock had silently appeared behind John as the cab pulled away.
"Not my intentions, John, but amusing nonetheless." Sherlock flashed a quick crooked grin as he glanced at his friend.
John couldn't help but chuckle softly. It was moments like this that made John's heart swell. It was so much like how they were before the fall.
"Alright, I'm here. You said it was urgent."
"Indeed. Follow me."
Sherlock led John through an alley and down two more streets.
"We're here, John," Sherlock whispered.
John looked up at the familiar structure in front of him.
Taking a cue from the detective, John kept his voice low. "Sherlock, isn't this Mr. Garrideb's place? We were just here two days ago. Why didn't we just take the cab straight here?"
Sherlock shot John a look that was screaming 'Obvious!' so loudly that John could almost hear his friend saying it. Sherlock had not wanted the cab to attract attention apparently.
As much as John wanted to roll his eyes and huff at the usual antics of his colleague, he couldn't help but smile and feel a twinge of fondness. He was still finding it such a thrill just to be around Sherlock again, much less finding his way back to 'working' with Sherlock on cases.
Sherlock darted to the side of the house and started working on a partially opened window. Before John could even question Sherlock further, the tall man disappeared inside the house.
"Sherlock!" John whispered loudly. Any fondness lingering in his system was quickly replaced by annoyance. Grumbling quietly, John hoisted himself up to the window and climbed in as carefully as he could.
"Sherlock!" John whispered again.
A hand clamped around his mouth while another wrapped around is right shoulder.
"John...shh!" Sherlock breathed into his ear. "We have to be quiet. Mr. Garrideb's away to Birmingham, if you recall. We are waiting to see if 'the other Mr. Garrideb' comes around. Here is your revolver."
With that, Sherlock released John and pressed the cool metal into John's left hand.
RIGHT! Johns memory started to catch up with the present. Sherlock had shot holes through every one of John Garrideb's story about needing other Garridebs to claim his American millions. Mr Nathan Garrideb, the owner of the house in which they were currently standing, was and odd old man with a museum for a house. Not that it was particularly large, but that it held so many artifacts and trinkets from the owner's many collections. The younger Mr. Garrideb had sent the elder off on a mission to find the third Garrideb.
Sherlock and John kept their backs to the wall. It did not take long for an eerie creaking noise to fill the room. In the dim evening light, John could just make out a strange movement on the floor. Something large and flat was rising up in the air on a hinge of some sort. 'AH! A Trapdoor!'
John could make out the silhouette of a figure emerging from the inky black hole in the floor. The dark shape moved around the open trapdoor and shut it with a bang. Sherlock took this opportunity to make his move.
"Ah, Mr. Evans, I presume. So nice of you to join us."
The man, Evans?, froze and slowly turned to face the pair. John caught sight of a glint of something metallic.
A wave of panic swept through John. No! No! NO! I just got him back and this stupid git isn't taking him away from me.
Instinctively, John lunged for the gun while simultaneously shouting, "Sherlock! He's armed!"
There was a flash. A loud bang. And pain.
John was caught up in the momentum of his efforts of getting to the villain when the bullet spun him off-course. Gravity was taking over as side of his head collided with a rather thick and sturdy work desk.
John heard a thunderous growl from behind him as he fought to keep conscience before he hit the ground.