Hello!

This be my first EVER fic so, err... Any reviews on things I've done wrong are welcome (as long as you don't hurt my fweelings ;) ). This is basically about Sherlock and co. going on a sort of holday, it's eventually going to get abit morbid as I enjoy writing that kind of stuff ( cuz I'm weird).

I don't own these characters (unless they're the ones I made up), I just attempt to write stories about them.

:3

Finding founders

"So, you looking forward to Cuba?" John asked happily as they made their way to the aeroplane "You tell me." answered Sherlock, still facing forward "Errr... You look pretty blank to me, are you bored?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, people just don't observe, he thought as he showed a smiley lady his passport and ticket to make his way to the aeroplane.

Sherlock glanced back at the rest of his party, Lestrade, Donavan and Anderson had invited him and John on an 'abroad service experience' which was code word for holiday. They only invited him and John so they would do most of the work. Sherlock had agreed only because he hoped the crimes in Cuba would be more interesting that that of in London. John had invited Sarah along in hope that he would make up for the non-stop days he had recently spent on a case with Sherlock.

John could tell that Sarah was just as amused as he was, neither had thought to ask Sherlock if he got flight sickness, but they could tell by the look on the consulting detective's face that they should have brought travel sickness tablets. "You sure your alright, Sherlock? Your looking a bit clammy." John asked, his response was a smirk from Lestrade, who was sat next to Sherlock, and a rather weak scowl from the grey-faced Sherlock himself. John looked at Sarah, she was looking pretty in her turquoise flowery dress, she seemed happy for now, good, thought John, he new after their first date when she had been caught in the middle of an investigation and nearly killed that she had become weary of where he was taking her and what they were doing, he hoped this 'holiday' would make her warm to him a bit more, even though he was supposed to be working.

The flight was drawing to a close, it had been filled with Donavan and Anderson constantly making flirty faces at each other and John and Sarah having sweet conversations and generally getting to know each other better. Sherlock, on the other hand, spent most of his time trying not to vomit (he had failed) and having small conversations with Lestrade before going back to controlling his stomach.

Everyone was happy to get off the plane and stretch their legs but now came the daunting task of putting up with each other long enough to find where they were staying. They were actually not staying in Cuba but on a small island near by called Sethal. "The map says we should head along this street then go right until we come to Gogn road, then just turn left and we should be there..." Lestrade stated before being interrupted by Sherlock
"No, Gogn road is closed," they all sighed and looked to Sherlock to explain "There's a sign, behind you all saying so." The next few moments were filled with mutterings and eye rolling before they all had a discussion about the quickest route there.

They had all managed to squish into one taxi, although there was an awful lot of being elbowed in the stomach, and eventually made it to the holiday home they would be staying at with surprisingly few arguments. John had managed to get a pretty good room for him and Sarah, it was a double bed but John pulled out a rusty camp bed from a cupboard just incase. The room had a nice view of the beach in front of the house, it was painted cream, had an en-suite bathroom and a blissfully cooling fan. After looking at the room John started to unpack his things, he had obviously left his jumpers and thick jackets at home. Sarah had gone with him to buy some hot-weather clothes so he now had Instead, short-sleeved shirts, t-shirts, cargos and a pair of sun glasses. Sarah had some dresses, skirts, shorts and lot of other clothes John didn't really notice. After unpacking, John met with Sherlock in the lounge. It had a wooden floor and much like every other room in the house, had cream walls, it was furnished with a wooden coffee table, a sofa and a couple of arm chairs. There was no television; John suspected that was to encourage people to get out and about on the island. Sherlock was currently dressed in a navy blue, collared, short-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of White cargos. It was certainly a change from the smart clothes he would normally wear. "You could wear a turtle neck you know." John teased as he thought of Sherlock in the scarf replacement. The edges of Sherlocks mouth twitched after a pause to imagine it. After a brief silence, Sherlock asked "Do you want to come to check out the police station they have here?"
"Errm ... I think I should stay with Sarah for awhile, but tell me if you go running after a vicious murderer."
The mouth twitch happened again and Sherlock set off throng the French doors in the direction of the village.

The sign posts around Sethal were in English, so Sherlock navigated his way around the island with ease. He eventually came to a large, brick building named Sethal station, how very creative, Sherlock thought as he entered the building and headed to the reception. Almost as soon as he was confirmed to be working here for the next week, Sherlock was handed a case, that, apparently, everyone else was too 'busy' to do. "Amateurs." He muttered under his breath, just because a case is a little bit out of their depth, they get put off or scared that they'll get it wrong. The file read:

Crime-
6 deaths

Locations:
Octnava house

Falshnor field

Gargh house

Nalchor house

Rackre lake

Flakriret road

Date:
August 10th

Victims:
Harvey Mackles

Fair Felmuch

Sammy Geotson

Joseph Calamar

David Aniture

Yasmin Colmoore

Links:
Victims killed on same day.
Stabbed in similar ways, stomach cut open.

John was just sitting down for a cup of tea with Sarah when Sherlock burst in, and,despite the fact he was obviously out of breath from running here, he was shouting "BEST ISLAND EVER!"
"I'm glad your enjoying yourself, care to elaborate?"
"6 murders all linked but hardly any information! Isn't it great?"
Sarah looked worriedly at Sherlock and cut in "It's not too great for the people's family."
Sherlock looked as though he was trying not to roll his eyes so John explained "He means it's some thing for him to do."
Sarah gave a little 'Oh' of understanding and sipped her tea.

After a quick scan through the files, John was asked if he wanted to go to the locations of the murders. "I think I'll stay here, you know, to keep Sarah company."
Sarah looked up from where she was sat "Actually I think I'll come with you, I guess it'll give me a chance to look around the island then."
He hadn't really expected her to say that, there was no worry or weariness in her voice. It wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, not wanting to be left alone with three people she hardly knew. John looked to Sherlock for confirmation who simply shrugged and stared into space. John told Sarah to change into some running clothes and when she was done, the three of them set off to the first location, Octnava house.

They were greeted by a rather perturbed Anderson. "Got a call from the police station saying you'd picked up a case. I WAS going to have a stroll down the beach but you've wrecked that one, haven't you?"
"Hello to you too, Anderson. And I think we both know what you were actually doing."
"Oh really?"
"Yes and I'm sure it had something to do with sergeant Donovan over there," he nodded towards Donovan, who was talking to an apparent local, but stopped when she spotted Sherlock "she's wearing your shirt." Donovan looked shocked for a moment, probably just noticing the bagginess of the shirt; she then scowled and muttered something along the lines of 'freak' before returning to interviewing people. Mean while Sherlock collected what little information Anderson had gathered, which consisted of the fact that no one in the area had seen anything and that the security cameras often malfunction and on that particular night, they were working fine until 0:45 AM and then started back up at 1:01, so in that time the murder must have happened. Sherlock, John and Sarah then made their way to the bedroom where the murder happened. The body was as the file had described it to be. It was a teenager, no older than 16 or 17, he had longish blonde hair, tanned skin, was tall and quite lean. His shirt had been left on and it was stained in blood. The boys stomach had been ripped open, blood and guts spilled out in front of him. "Nice." Sarah murmured, she had turn quite pale and was trying to look away. "So, anything to go off?" John asked, his arm round Sarah to comfort her. Sherlock started his deduction "The blade was strong, you can tell from the way it easily cut through the skin and muscles, but the wound is jagged, meaning the culprit was hurrying, might have known he only had a certain amount of time, which could mean he tampered with the security cameras, we'll have to look into that, the culprit must have been quick and clever judging by the way hardly any traces have remained, except the one on the windowsill, a stain of blood and it wasn't from Harvey over there, his blood is spilt in the opposite direction, so this is from the killer when he made his exit, but this is the third floor and the drop from here has no where you can grab hold of something if your jump goes wrong, so the murderer is strong in both arms and legs." John and Sarah just stared as Sherlock made his conclusion going at a mile a second, poking the body with such little care that it may have even disgusted the killer himself.

They hadn't found anything else of use so they had headed back to the house, John was now discussing with the rest of the group what to do next. "So we'll do the
tour of the island?" John concluded
"I still think it will be dull." Sherlock complained
"Well at least it tells us about the history of this place, and we'll be able to find our way around the island better." Sherlocks just groaned, the rest of the group spilt up to get their things ready. John chuckled lightly at how awkward it was for Anderson and Donovan to go into their shared bedroom, one went in and the other waited until they were done until going in themselves. John knocked on his and Sarah's door, as he entered, he saw Sarah quickly tie up her dress, something slightly more formal than the shorts and vest top she had been wearing when she was with him and Sherlock. He quickly changed into a shirt then went to meet everyone in the lounge.

Sherlock knew he was going to get bored but he didn't have enough evidence for the case to amuse himself with that, I don't need to know about the history of this place, he thought as the group gathered round a short, plump, tour guide, this isn't going to help with the case so theres no need for it. "Hello everyone! I'm Fred and I'll be your tour guide," The man had a surprisingly deep voice, considering his size "This place was founded by to people, Humphrey Melton and Freddie Falchor. Fred! Like me..." Sherlock zoned out at that point, but Fred boomed on for some time before Sherlock got a tap on the shoulder "Sherlock. Sherlock, did you hear that?" John hissed in his ear
"Huh? Something about where the founders were born and died?"
"Yes. Did you hear where though?"
"No, it's not really important to me."
"Well it should be, Humphrey was born in Octnava house! And he died in Nalchor house! And Freddie was born in Falshnor field and died in Rackre lake!"
Sherlock's eyes lit up at that moment "A puzzle! Finally something interesting coming from this tour!"
"A puzzle?" Sarah asked, she had been listening in on the conversation, deciding it was more interesting than listening to Fred go on and on.
"Yes, we have some kind of link finally, but we don't know why the murderer did it or what the other two people were for."
"Maybe they were on to the murderer and they had to be rid of." Sarah mused
"No, the killer was careful and wouldn't want the puzzle to be wrecked by two spare people. Plus they were all at completely different points on the island."
They mused over it for a bit before turning back to Fred so he wouldn't get irritated, Sherlock was now content that he had something to think about instead of having his head filled with a load of useless information (although he now thought more of it) that he probably wouldn't use again.

They quickly headed back to the house when the tour was finished, Sherlock and John arranged all the clues they had on pieces of paper to see if they could work out more links. "So four deaths are linked to the founders, and we don't know what the other two are for? Are you sure you heard it right, John? There isn't a third?" Lestrade asked, looking at the various notes spread about the coffee table.
"I'll go and check on my laptop."
John then disappeared in to his room. Lestrade looked up when he realised something "The first two people that were killed, their initials are the same as the founders."
"Yes!" Sherlock scribbled it down on to another piece of paper and placed it in to the huddle of other clues. John re-entered the room, setting the laptop down on he table. "No, definitely two, all the sites say so, even the official one."
"Hmmm, we'll have to ask around the island, the locals might know something. We better check out the other crime scenes before it gets too late." Sherlock looked out the window, it was 5:00 PM and the sun was starting to set. Everyone immediately set about getting in to more casual clothes and getting a taxi, you would normally just book them around here. This time they had two taxis so the ride wouldn't be as painfully as the last one.

The first three locations they looked at didn't give anything away, but at Rackre lake, there was blood splattered over a certain tree. It stood out because it was at the opposite side of the lake from the body. John starred at the crusty, dried blood for a moment before calling Sherlock over "Sherlock! There's something on this tree!" a few seconds later Sherlock was by his side, looking the tree up and down "Attends, John! Do you speak French?"
"A bit, but Sarah knows more. Sarah!"
"Yes? What is it?"
Sherlock answered "French. What does it say?"
"Erm... It says 'wait for it'" Sarah translated, bewildered. Sherlock didn't say much after that and John suspected he wasn't sharing something with them, they had quickly looked at the last location, and, finding nothing new, they had headed back to the house. All John could get out of Sherlock was that they were waiting for some thing, John had already deciphered that, and after that he had been told to relax and enjoy the break. Anderson and Donovan were joining John and Sarah in a nice cup of tea, they were being surprisingly civilised and nice, thought John, but he supposed they only ever acted grumpy because of Sherlock. Speak of the devil "We're out of tea bags!"
"Go and get some then!" John called back over his shoulder
"Do you want to come?"
"Can't Lestrade?"
"He's asleep!"
"Fine." John muttered as he got up from the sofa. He left his cup on the counter top behind the sofa, waved everyone a friendly good-bye and left to meet Sherlock out side.

Sherlock waited impatiently for John out side the house, it was a warm night and he felt odd not wearing his usual long coat and scarf. John eventually came out of the French doors and they set off walking to the store. "Ok so whats the real reason you dragged me out here?"
"Why John, this level of suspicion coming from you is very strange. Why would you suspect me of lying?"
"Because I don't see why you would make such a fuss over not having any tea bags. Besides, there was a new box of them at the back of the cupboard."
"Well i just thought since we had nothing to do, we could use the time to question the locals about the founders of this place."
"Nothing- Nothing to do! Sherlock I was clearly having a conversation with everyone else! You just pulled me out here because you got bored and wanted to investigate!"
Sherlock ignored this little out burst and picked up the pace until they came to a small corner shop. The shop was called 'Melavo's'; it had all the essentials and nothing more, except for some sweets that children can pester their parents for. The shop keeper -presumably Melavo him self judging by the calendar behind him stating that it is his shift tonight- was dark skinned, slightly over weight and wore a casual t-shirt and jeans. "Melavo, I presume." Sherlock greeted him, a tight smile on his face and a hand held out. "Yes and you are?"
Melavo shook Sherlock's hand cautiously.
"Sherlock. Me,John over there and some, errr... Friends," Sherlock wasn't sure that was the right word for the people back at the house but he didn't want Melavo getting suspicious because he thought the police were after him "we just wanted to meet the locals."
Melavo narrowed his eyes for a moment before straightening himself up and telling them that they are welcome to his help, Sherlock took this for word and asked if it was true there are only two founders of this island. "Yes, just the two, brothers in-fact. The third brother was very jealous when he found out, some say he even went mad and killed himself."
Sherlock thought about this, words can get twisted along the way, three brothers, two turn against the other, and death, covered up on the unpopulated island. He'd have to look into it a bit more. They quickly bought some tea, John was quite perturbed that he had to pay when it was Sherlock's idea, and left.

John found the walk home peaceful, the warmth of the nights here certainly made a change front the chilly nights back in London. It was peace full, until Sherlock spotted a news agent, just closing, and decided to ask about the founders there. "Hello, there, Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock greeted a youngish man with messy hair, the man muttered something about closing much to late and stopped what he was doing "me and my friend John here are on holiday, we went on the tour done by Fred. John thought he said that there are three founders of this island but I'm not so sure, do you know?" John thought their cover up sounded a bit suspicious, coming into a newsagent at night just to ask a history question. But the man didn't seem to doubt it as he answered "Well there's three Humphrey Melton, Freddie Falchor and Sebastian Golmore, they were all brothers." John exchanged surprised glances with Sherlock "Cool, and err... Where was Sebastian born and where did he die?"
" He was born in Gargh house and died at Flakriret road. Were you listening to that tour?"
" Errr... On and off, my hearing a bit um, funny,"John lied, terribly" Did you say your name, what is it?"
"Alistair... Golllll...Golton, yes, Golton." He answered rather uncertainly. John and Sherlock said good-bye and bid a hasty retreat. As they made their way home, he and Sherlock discussed the clues they had, the murders had happened where the founders were born and where they died, the first three people who were killed had the same initials as said founders. The murder was obviously linked to the fact the only time Sebastian Golmore was mentioned was at that newsagents by Alistair 'Golton' (Sherlock said he would ask around and see if that was his actual name).

Sherlock sprinted into the lounge, where everyone was watching a film, shouting "Lestrade! Get Lestrade!" John followed more slowly behind him.
"Oh what now?" Anderson grunted as Sherlock caught his breath. Sarah wen to wake Lestrade as Sherlock and John explained what went on whilst they were out. As they finished, a shout came from Lestrade's bed room at the other end off the building "HE'S GONE!" Sarah's yell came out clearer as everyone got into ear shot. She was right, all that was in front of Sherlock and the rest of them was an unpacked suite case, some clothes and an empty bed.

Sherlock didn't have to be asked to start finding traces to Lestrade's whereabouts or at least a clue to who took him. After a good ninety minutes of searching every where in Lestrade's room, all they had uncovered was that the culprit wore shoes that can only be bought round here, everyone was amazed -not so much surprised- that Sherlock had looked at the bit of plastic that was on the floor and immediately identified that it had come from a type of shoe that's only manufactured in this region. They'd have to start looking at people's shoes now. Sherlock was then persuaded by John that everyone needed a good rest or jet lag would make them worn out and that they could go 'shoe spotting', as John had so fondly put it, in the morning.