A/N: I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I've had writer's block for FOREVER! Anyway, here's the new chapter.
Some notes on reviews:
foxchick1: Yep!
Vedra9: Your reviews always make me smile. Got a new T-shirt for you. Hope you like the new chapter. (And, please, keep being greedy)
Woo-hoo!
Mental Exercises
"What happened to Soo Lin?" John asks. I turn away from the taxi window and look at him. Sherlock sits next to him, and even though he's looking at his phone, I can tell he's listening.
"She's safe," I answer, smiling. "She's with Andy." John nods.
"And her brother?" he asks.
"The Black Lotus won't bother her again: They think she's dead," I respond. John's eyes widen.
"How?"
"Bit of Psychokinesis and Soo Lin's acting skills," I answer. "I shifted the gun just slightly when he fired and pulled her knees out from under her." Sherlock looks up.
"Clever," he comments, turning back to his phone. I tilt my head at him, eyes wide.
"Was…" I start before turning to John. "Was that a…compliment?" John just looks at me in shock.
"Well," Sherlock responds quickly. I turn to him again. "It's not what I would have done." John looks at him in disbelief before shaking his head and turning to his window.
"No, clearly it's not," I respond, letting my irritation seep into my voice. He and John both look at me. "It's not even something you could have done. You aren't psychic." Sherlock rolls his eyes and I glare at him. "And then there's the glaringly obvious fact that you weren't even there." I hiss the last few words, and John shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "You were too busy, running around the museum trying to catch Zhi Zhu." I pause, relishing the widening of Sherlock's eyes. "Because that worked so well the last time." Sherlock flinches slightly. I cross my arms and turn to the window, leaning back in my seat. I feel Sherlock observing me from across the taxi.
"Something happened when you met Mycroft that has you irritable," he says slowly. I glare at him again before sighing.
"Something did happen, and it has me…" I pause, searching for the right word, "confused. And I don't handle confusion well." They both look at me. "I'm psychic." I shrug before turning back to the window. The taxi pulls in front of Scotland Yard. "I'm not normally confused."
"That's why you were so short at the museum!" John exclaims as the car stops fully. I push the door open and hop out, stepping around to pay. I turn towards the steps and see Sherlock and John already halfway up. I jog to catch up to them. "So what else confuses you? Just so I know what to stay away from in the future." I fall in step next to Sherlock as we walk through the double doors.
"Sherlock," I answer without thinking. "Sherlock confuses me." Both men stop in the middle of the lobby while I keep walking. I get up to reception and ask for Dimmock. I turn back to find John frowning and Sherlock…smiling? It's very slight, but it's still there. Huh. I think back to what I've said and grimace. Great, just what I need. If I thought the teasing was bad BEFORE, it's going to be even worse NOW. I turn back so the receptionist can tell me what floor Dimmock's on and head to the elevator. I hear Sherlock and John fall in step behind me and I turn to John once the doors are closed. "You say anything to anyone and I'll… I'll…." John smirks at me. "I'll figure something out, and you won't like it!" He chuckles and I glare at him. I glance at Sherlock, who's still smiling. I glare at him, too. "What're you smiling at?"
"I'm sure you could find something with which to threaten John," he answers sarcastically. I think for a minute before grinning innocently at him. "What?" His eyes narrow.
"I'm sure I could find somewhere to hide your violin," I respond. "Somewhere you won't find it." He glares at me as John chuckles. I turn back to John. "And I'm sure I could find a nice bonfire to donate all your jumpers to." He stops laughing and looks at me in shock.
"You wouldn't," he says. I smile sweetly at him.
"Try me," I reply. I turn back to the doors of the elevator, feeling them both glaring at me. The elevator dings and the doors open. I step out and head towards Dimmock. He glances up at me from where he's standing and I smile. He smiles back, then frowns as he glances over my shoulder. He looks down and starts rummaging through some paperwork.
"Kat," he greets.
"Guess where we've just come from?" I ask. He glances up at me before looking back down as Sherlock and John reach us. "The Antiquities Museum." He ignores me. "Trying to hunt down a murderer." He tenses when I say this but continues to ignore me.
"How many murders is it gonna take before you start believing that this maniac's out there?" John asks in anger. Dimmock turns and walks between the three of us, heading for another desk. John turns to follow him and continues. "A young girl was nearly gunned down tonight. That's—"
"John," I interrupt. He stops and I walk to Dimmock. "Detective Inspector, a young girl by the name of Soo Lin Yao was very nearly murdered by the same man who killed Van Coon and Lukis." He looks up at me. "The only reason she's still alive is because I was there to divert the bullet." His eyes widen as Sherlock walks towards us.
"Brian Lukis and Eddie Van Coon were working for a gang of international smugglers," Sherlock says, leaning closer before continuing. "A gang called the Black Lotus, operating here in London right under your nose." Dimmock looks back and forth from Sherlock to me. He stops to look at Sherlock.
"Can you prove that?" he asks. Sherlock straightens up thoughtfully. I smile.
"Of course we can," I answer. The three of them all look at me.
"We can?" John asks in disbelief. I nod.
"St. Bart's," I respond. Sherlock nods before heading towards the elevator, John glancing at me before turning to follow Sherlock. I turn to Dimmock, who's watching the two men leave. "You really should trust him." He looks at me. "He's arrogant, insulting and socially inept…" Dimmock smiles. "But he does know what he's doing." Dimmock tilts his head at me.
"How do you know?" he asks. I turn back towards the elevator, smiling softly.
"I met him once as a child," I answer. I can feel Dimmock staring at me in shock. "He was absolutely brilliant, even back then. A lot more open and compassionate, though." I turn back to look at Dimmock. "He saved my life."
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"Molly will probably be in the cafeteria," I say as we walk through St. Bart's, Sherlock leading the way. When we reach the double doors, he stops and turns around to look at the three of us.
"You three stay here," he says. "I'll handle this." He turns again and walks through the doors towards Molly while I roll my eyes.
"Poor Molly," John mutters. I look at him and raise my eyebrows. "When plain asking isn't going to work, he's going to 'flirt' with her, if you can call it that." John shrugs his shoulders. "I feel bad." I tilt my head at him before bursting out laughing. He looks at me in shock while I calm down.
"I don't know that it'll work, John," I state, turning to walk through the doors. I sneak up behind Sherlock, careful not to let Molly see me. I stand about two feet back from him.
"You've…changed your hair," Sherlock says.
"What?" Molly asks nervously. I cross my arms in front of my chest.
"The-the style," Sherlock responds. "It's usually parted in the middle."
"Yes, well…"
"Mmm, it's good," Sherlock continues. "It, um, suits you better this way." I chuckle silently. There's an awkward pause in their conversation, and I feel the urge to jump in, but Molly speaks before I can.
"Thanks for the compliment, Sherlock," she says, her voice a little stronger than before. I can tell Sherlock thinks he's won. "But flattery isn't going to make me wheel those bodies out for you." I outright laugh as I step around Sherlock to face Molly, catching the frown on Sherlock's face.
"Will bribery work?" I ask, smirking. Molly grins while Sherlock rolls his eyes. "There's this nice little dress I know you've been eyeing." I uncross my arms and put my hands in my jean pockets, shrugging my shoulders. "It might find its way into your closet somehow if we get a look at those two bodies."
"I don't know…" Molly responds, biting her lip. I sigh.
"We only need them for a second," I reply. "We just have to show the D.I. something, and then we'll be out of your hair." I pause for a moment. "And I promise Mr. Cheekbones here won't beat them with a riding crop or anything." Molly laughs while Sherlock glares at me.
"Well…."
"Please?" I beg. I tilt my head down and to the side and give the best puppy face I can muster, complete with pouting lower lip and wide eyes.
"Okay, okay, fine," she responds, laughing. "You win. But only because I can't resist that face."
"Woo-hoo! The face always wins!" I reply, laughing.
"And you owe me a dress!" she continues. I nod, still laughing. Sherlock just looks back and forth at us like we're completely insane. This remains to be decided in my case. "Sherlock, go get Dimmock and meet us in the morgue. We'll go on ahead." Sherlock just watches us again before turning on his heel and heading to the others. Molly giggles softly and I look at her, puzzled.
"You're the only one he really listens to," she says. I mock-glare at her before sighing. I start to walk away, heading to the morgue. "Hey, you okay?" I stop and turn to look at her.
"Walk with me, Molls," I respond. "I've had a huge revelation today, and maybe you can help me sort it out." She nods thoughtfully and starts walking. We head out of the cafeteria and down the hallway. "Remember when Mycroft kidnapped me this morning?" She nods.
"That feels like ages ago," she responds.
"He took me to meet their parents," I continue. Molly looks at me sharply and gasps. "Seems everybody, even their mother, ships us." Molly chuckles.
"Is that the revelation you were talking about?" she asks.
"No," I answer, shaking my head. "No, the revelation happened when she pulled out some old photo albums. Turns out, fifteen years ago, when Mycroft graduated from school, the Holmes family took a trip to celebrate." Molly nods, and I can almost hear the gears turning in her head. "A trip to America, where Mycroft got hurt and they had to visit a hospital." We walk through a second set of doors. "Guess who Sherlock met while they were there?"
"You," Molly answers. I remain silent for a moment, and she turns to look at me. "Don't tell me it wasn't." She points her finger at me. "If you say it wasn't you then you're in denial."
"I can't be in denial about it, Molls," I respond softly. "Mrs. Holmes managed to take a picture of the two of us. There was photographic proof right in my hands." Molly gasps before putting an arm around my shoulder. We continue to walk like that through the hospital until we reach the set of doors to the morgue.
"Kat…."
"It's so frustrating!" I cry suddenly, unable to hold back. Molly turns and stands in front of me, wrapping her arms around me. "He's so much colder now! He's like a robot: He only cares about solving the next case. It's like he's a completely different person!"
"Shh, it'll be okay," Molly coos, helping me calm down. "It'll be fine." I pull back slightly to look at her.
"How do you know?" I ask. She chuckles.
"I've known Sherlock since before you moved here," she answers. "You can't see it, because you're causing the change in him. But that's the point: You are causing a change in him. He's not as cold now as he was before that day here at Bart's." I tilt my head at her. "Before? He wouldn't have even thought of using compliments to get his way."
"Great," I groan. "So I'm making him more manipulative." Molly chuckles at me.
"No, silly," she responds. "You're making him more understanding." I groan again.
"Isn't that basically the same thing?" I ask. She laughs at me.
"You'll see," she responds. "It'll all work out. Just act normal." I mock-glare at her. "Well, as normal as you can act." My glare turns into a scowl and she laughs. She opens the doors in front of us. "Just don't think about it. Let it happen." We walk inside and Molly heads toward the drawers. "Come on, help me with these." I help Molly get the bodies—they're in body bags, fortunately—and lay them out in the middle of the room. Molly puts on latex gloves and moves to unzip one of the bags just as Sherlock and Dimmock walk into the room.
"We're just interested in the feet," Sherlock calls. Molly turns to me and grimaces.
"The feet?" she asks. I chuckle.
"Yes," Sherlock answers. "D'you mind if we have a look at them?" He smiles at her and she frowns at him, making him frown when she shrugs her shoulders and walks to the opposite end of the bag, unzipping it to reveal the feet. They stand there for just a moment as Sherlock gets a smug look on his face. He walks over to the other bag. "Now Van Coon." Molly follows him and opens the bag. They stand for another second before Dimmock sighs. "Oh!"
"So…" Dimmock trails off.
"So either these two men just happened to visit the same Chinese tattoo parlor or I'm telling the truth," Sherlock finishes.
"Sherlock," I call. He looks over at me and I shake my head. "Be nice." He scowls and I hear Molly chuckle. Dimmock sighs in resignation.
"What do you want?" he asks.
"I want every book from Lukis' apartment and Van Coon's," Sherlock answers.
"Their books?" Dimmock asks, confused, but he doesn't get an answer as Sherlock strides out of the morgue. He turns to me. "He did say their books, right?" I nod.
"Yeah, it probably doesn't make a lot of sense," I respond. Molly chuckles.
"Maybe for us normal people," Molly says, "but I bet you know exactly why he wants the books." I shrug as Dimmock pulls out his phone and turns to leave.
"I might have an idea," I respond. "Now, come on, Molls. I'll help you put these bodies back." We zip the bags up and wheel the bodies back into the drawers they came from. Molly turns to me.
"Come on, let's get some coffee," she says, smiling. I start to protest but she cuts me off. "Mr. Cheekbones can wait. We need to get you sorted. Okay?" I shrug my shoulders and smile.
"Thanks," I reply, returning her smile. We head back towards the cafeteria, order coffee and sit in silence at one of the tables opposite the doors.
"So, are you in love with him?" Molly asks as I take a sip. I start choking on my coffee.
"WHAT?!" I shriek once I stop coughing. Molly sips her coffee nonchalantly.
"Him changing since America wouldn't bother you so much if you didn't feel something for him," she states. I narrow my eyes at her. "Simple deduction on my part." I look down at the table.
"I… I don't know," I groan, putting my elbows on the table and my face in my hands. There's a pounding starting in my head. "That's why this is so frustrating. I don't think I had feelings for him before. At least, not really." Molly tilts her head. "I got nicked in the arm a couple days ago. He cleaned it up for me, his face got really close to mine." Molly smirks. "Shut up!" She laughs and I glare at her before sighing and continuing. "But then he turns out to be the same person, the kid from the hospital, who I do have feelings for. Even back then, I could feel the connection." Molly nods.
"Being psychic and everything," she says. I nod and grimace. The pounding's getting worse. "You okay?" I shake my head.
"Headache," I respond just as someone walks up to our table.
"Hello, ladies," our visitor greets. I look up to see a man in his thirties wearing slacks and a T-shirt. I take a closer look and see tinted eyelashes, visible underwear, and a clockwork pendant on a silver chain, among other things. Gay. "Mind if I join you?"
"Jim!" Molly welcomes. "Hi! Sure, you can join us." I glance at her and raise my eyebrows as Jim pulls a chair over to our table. She sticks her tongue out at me.
"So you're the Jim from IT," I say, turning to look at him. I smile, trying to ignore the pounding: It's like a drumbeat. "The one Molly's told me all about." Jim grins and nods.
"Yup!" he replies. "And you must be…Kat, right?" I nod.
"Yeah, best friend from America, that's me," I answer. I turn back to Molly. "You tell your boyfriends about me?" Molly blushes bright red.
"We-We're not dating," she answers sheepishly. "We've been out once." I laugh.
"I'm just teasing, Molls," I say. "You tease me about Sherlock." Jim sits a bit straighter in his chair. "I figure it's only fair to turn the tables."
"You know Sherlock?" Jim asks. I nod. "I've heard about him. I've wanted to meet him for a while, see if he's really as brilliant as Molly's told me." I glance at Molly again, smirking.
"He is," I respond. "I live upstairs from him." I pause. "It's never boring." Molly laughs.
"Kat's practically his girlfriend," Molly interjects. I glare at her and she grins.
"Molly!"
"What?" she asks, smirking. "It's true. He listens to you, doesn't say hurtful things about you. And he saved your life, remember?"
"He did?" Jim asks as my phone beeps. I pull it out of my pocket and read the text, groaning.
Books are here. Could use your help. –SH
"I've got to go," I say, standing up. "The books have arrived. Sherlock's asking for my help." Molly smirks again and turns to Jim.
"See? Told you so," she says. I glare at her again before turning to Jim.
"It was nice to meet you, Jim," I say.
"Yeah, you too," he responds. I turn to leave, mock-saluting before I go.
"Later, Molls!" I call.
"Bye, Kat!" she replies. I walk out the double doors and reply to Sherlock's text.
On my way. –KW
I head outside and hail a taxi, giving the cabbie the address before stepping inside. The farther from the hospital I get, the less painful the pounding in my head becomes. Weird. I watch as the city flies by. The taxi pulls up in front of 221B, and I step out and pay the cabbie. I head into the building and walk into the boys flat to find crates of books everywhere. Sherlock is standing by some crates, rummaging through them while John is sitting at the dining table.
"Well," I mutter as I pull my jacket off. "This is going to be fun." I walk over to the sofa, sit down and start pulling books out of the nearest crates.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
We're still looking at books when John's watch starts beeping. I glance up at him as he looks at it and then looks out the window. I'm surprised to see sunlight filtering in. I glance at John again and see that he's taken his cardigan off. He sighs tiredly and buries his head in his hands. I glance over at Sherlock and see that he's removed his jacket. I try not to think about how tight his purple shirt is. Molly's words from the night before flash through my mind and I shake my head to clear it. Don't go down that path, Kat. Focus.
"I need to get going," John says as he gets up out of his chair.. "I've got work." I hum in acknowledgement as he walks to his bedroom. A few minutes later he walks back out and leaves the flat. I look up at Sherlock to see him still rummaging. I sigh and pull out a new stack of books to look through.
Five hours later, I yawn. Sherlock looks up at me and frowns.
"You're still here," he says. I can hear the confusion in his voice.
"Yes, Sherlock," I respond. "I'm still here." I yawn again on the word "here". "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I figured you would have gone upstairs and gotten some sleep at some point," he answers. "Why didn't you?" I shrug my shoulders.
"Meh. I thought I'd stay and help, actually," I reply. "Though now that you mention it, I think a nap is in order." I grin and he turns back to the crates. I stand up and move the books I've looked through off the sofa. I walk over to John's chair and snag the Union Flag pillow before walking back towards the sofa.
"What're you doing?" Sherlock asks from behind me.
"What does it look like?" I counter.
"It looks like you're going to take a nap on my sofa," he responds. I chuckle as I plop down on said sofa.
"Astute deduction, Sherlock," I reply cheekily. "I'm impressed." I lie down, fold my hands together on my stomach and cross my ankles. "I figure I could sleep here. That way I'm not too far away if you need something." I turn my head to glance at him, smirking. "And I'd rather not have you picking the lock to my flat." He scowls at me and I chuckle again. He turns back to the crates and I start dozing off. I'm very nearly asleep when I hear a voice in my head.
"Kat? … Hear…?"
I open my eyes and turn to look at Sherlock. He glances up at me.
"Yes?" he asks.
"Were you…?" I start to ask, but I trail off. "Never mind." Couldn't be. I look at the ceiling again before turning completely and facing away from the room, folding my legs in. I shake my head slightly and chuckle at how ridiculous I'm being. I start dozing again when I hear the voice again, clearer. It sounds like Sherlock.
"Kat? Can you hear me?"
My eyes snap open this time and I sit up sharply to stare at Sherlock. He glances up again.
"…Yes?" he asks again. I stare at him for a second.
"Are you…projecting?" I ask. He looks at me in confusion. "Your thoughts: Are you projecting them? Making certain thoughts louder so I can hear them?"
"It worked," he says, nodding.
"Only because I'm exhausted," I respond. His eyes narrow. "Normally I've got mental walls up to keep stray thoughts from distracting me, especially around you." He looks confused again. "I tried reading your mind once, just after the cabbie incident. I was curious to see how your mind worked." He nods.
"And?"
"Your thoughts move too fast," I respond. "Looking into your mind gives me a headache, so I try to avoid it." I shrug. "I guess my walls started slipping because I stayed up all night." He nods thoughtfully. "How long have you been trying this?"
"The idea came to me when I was being strangled the other day," Sherlock answers. I chuckle.
"You think of me while you're being strangled?" I ask sarcastically. "I'm flattered." Sherlock glares at me before continuing.
"And I've been experimenting with it since the stakeout at the museum." I nod thoughtfully and lie back down. I can feel Sherlock watching me.
"Still working?"
I glance at him and project my thoughts back.
"Yes."
I smirk as his eyes widen.
"I'm going to sleep. Let me know if you need anything."
I hear him shuffling through books again as I finally fall asleep. The next thing I know, the door to the flat is opening. I glance up to see John home from work. He nods at me before heading to his room. I sit up and pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time. Slept for three hours. Nice. I glance at Sherlock as he walks over to the bookshelf.
"A book that everybody would own," he mutters as he pulls down three books. I stand up and stretch before walking over to him. He looks through the Concise Oxford English Dictionary when I walk up. "Fifteen. Entry one." He puts the book down after checking the word and picks up the Holy Bible. I glance at the third book and grimace, picking it up.
"Sherlock, what is this?" I ask. The title of the book is Syphilis and Local Contagious Disorders. He glances up at me and puts the Bible down.
"It's a book," he answers, pulling the book from my hands.
"Don't get smart with me," I say as I cross my arms. He opens the book to page fifteen. I chuckle as he puts the book down and props his elbows on a nearby crate. At the same time I hear John's door slam shut. Sherlock runs his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up. Wonder if it's as soft as it looks. I shake my head, trying to clear it. Dammit, Molly! John walks out into the room.
"I need to get some air. We're going out tonight," Sherlock says.
"Actually," John responds, smiling smugly. "I've, er, got a date." I look over at him and smile.
"Nice!" I say.
"What?" Sherlock asks at the same time.
"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun, Sherlock," I respond, laughing, before turning to John. "Sarah?" John nods.
"That's what I was suggesting," Sherlock replies. I shake my head at him.
"No it wasn't," John says. "At least I hope it wasn't." Sherlock sulks away.
"Where are you taking her?" I ask.
"Er, cinema," John answers. I smile.
"Oh, dull, boring, predictable," Sherlock responds and I frown at him. He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and walks across the room to John. He lowers his head and I catch a smug smile on his face that he hides from John. ""Why don't you try this?" John takes the piece of paper and looks at it. "In London for one night only." John chuckles and gives the paper back to Sherlock.
"Thanks, but I don't come to you for dating advice," John says. I laugh.
"What's it for?" I ask, heading over to look at the paper. Sherlock offers it to me. "Yellow Dragon Circus, huh?" Sherlock nods. "Sounds like it could be fun." I turn to John. "Oh, go on, John. You can take Sarah to the cinema any time. This is one night only." John looks thoughtful before nodding and taking the paper from me. I glance at Sherlock to see him smiling. "I'm gonna go upstairs and change. I need some fresh clothes." He nods. I turn around and walk out the door, heading up the stairs to my flat. I lock the door behind me and head towards the bathroom. I turn the shower on and get ready.
One relaxing shower later, I pull on some blue jeans and a purple baby doll tee that says "I don't lack the ability to focus. I have the super mind powers to focus on tons of things all at the same time. So take that, boring normal brain people." It reminds me of Sherlock. I'm looking in the mirror and brushing through my hair when I hear the lock on the front door click. I sigh as it swings open.
"You couldn't knock?" I ask as Sherlock appears in the mirror behind me. He shakes his head.
"I was wondering if you'd like to join me," he says. I raise my eyebrow. "For the circus tonight."
"It's for the case, isn't it," I say. His eyes widen. "You seem to forget how observant I am sometimes. You wouldn't have had that piece of paper if it weren't important. And 'Yellow Dragon Circus' sounds just a bit Oriental to me." Sherlock nods.
"So…"
"Sure, why not," I respond, smiling. He smiles back slightly, and I feel my heart stutter. "Should be fun."
A/N:
And there we are. Hope you liked.
I hate to sound like I'm fishing for reviews, but they really do keep me going. So, please: Review!
