Chapter 2

The Murder Poem

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or its charaters. I only own Ruby Garcia.

It was only a quarter of an hour after John had left, when suddenly there was a knock at the door of 221b Baker St. The sudden noise abruptly jolted Sherlock out of his Mind Palace. He hated it when that happened, and as a result, took longer than necessary to get off the sofa and open the door. When he did open the door, he greeted the two people on the other side with an irritated "What?".

"Client for you, Sherlock dear." Mrs Hudson said with a large smile.

"Not now Mrs Hudson, I'm busy!" whined Sherlock.

"Sherlock..."

"I'm in my pyjamas!"

Mrs Hudson looked at him sadly. Sherlock couldn't stand seeing one of his few friends sad.

"Oh, fine. Give me a second and I'll get dressed. You can come in." Here, he nodded at the young woman stood nervously next to Mrs Hudson in the doorway. "What's your name, by the way?"

"I'm Ruby Garcia." the woman said, stepping thankfully into the room, glad that the argument was over. Sherlock gave her what John liked to call 'the deduction once-over'. This was what he picked up:

Long hair, honey coloured, recently been professionally styled, for an event of some kind, since she doesn't seem like the sort of person who would regularly style her hair (plain, unfashionable clothing).

String of unhappy love affairs, one resulting in engagement, which was recently terminated, evident from her ring finger having a faint mark where an engagement ring would be.

Bookish, judging from the amount of paper cuts on her fingers.

Several cats, variety of cat furs on her legs.

Lives alone, (shown by the fact that she has a smudge of blue ink on her cheek, which nobody has told her about).

Ink shows that she writes, but not as a journalist, otherwise the ink on her cheek would be black, not blue.

Conclusion; she lives alone, with several cats, working in writing (probably novelist) hair styled, (likely for a date, considering the time of year).

Great. he thought. Another lovesick puppy. With a small sigh, he walked into his room to change.

...

"Miss Garcia, will you please state your case. Don't be boring, and keep it quick; I only have a limited attention span." Sherlock said, leaning forward in his armchair.

"Well, you are the great Sherlock Holmes, I'm pretty sure you must know what I want." She challenged him with her voice, and a defiant look in her eyes.

Oooo, a feisty one. He hadn't expected that of her, but then again, people were always unpredictable.

"Well, Miss Garcia..."

"Ruby, please. Miss Garcia makes me sound like a teacher." she interjected.

"...Ruby. From what I can deduce, you would appear to be going on a date, or a similar sort of event, judging from the fact that you have had your hair styled reasonably recently, and also the fact that it is Valentine's Day tomorrow. A date would be the most likely event for you to have styled your hair for. I can also deduce that you live alone with several cats, and that you are also a novelist. You would also appear to have had some difficulties in love prior to your date tomorrow. Therefore, I would say that you were, like as not, calling on me to help you in love-related business. Am I correct?"

Ruby raised her eyebrow. "So, you really are as good as people say."

"Did I get it right?" Sherlock asked, leaning forward in his chair like an exited puppy.

"Yes, you did, but I imagine that you'll want details."

"Of course." said Sherlock, rolling his eyes.

Ruby smiled slightly. "Okay, so, the facts are these. Yesterday, after I got back from having my hair done for my blind date tonight, I found this on my desk." Here, she handed him a delicate pink card. Written on the inside, in red ink, was the following;

Your blood is red

Your veins are blue

I will kill all that you love

Unless my Valentine is you.

"Hmmm." mused Sherlock. "Who do you think could have written it?"

"That's the thing. I just don't know. The handwriting doesn't match that of any of my friends or *ahem* past lovers, so I'm completely stuck. There's more than just this, though."

"What else is there?"

"Well...look, I should probably just show you." She took out her phone and opened up a picture. It showed two cats lying dead on the floor of what Sherlock assumed was Ruby's house. Their veins had been pulled out, and blood splotches had been arranged into rose shapes. "Hmmm." Sherlock mumbled, at a loss of anything better to say. Immediately, his mind began to come up with solutions to Ruby's problem.

"So, Mr Holmes. Will you help me?" Ruby's voice broke in on his thoughts. Sherlock looked at her for a heartbeat, and then said, confidently, "Yes, of course."

At that precise moment, John walked in through the door with a carrier bag. He stopped immediately, when he saw Sherlock and Ruby. "Do we..."

Sherlock finished his sentence for him. "...have a case? Yes, my dear John, we do! Come along, we have ourselves a Valentines mystery!"

A/N: Hello (again)! Thanks for reading this new chapter! As before, I appreciate any feedback. Chapter 3 will be posted when I have finished writing it. See you then!