Part Nine - Reena
"Blogging again?" Sherlock asked dryly, but in a tone that was still somewhat apologetic.
The comment was, as Sherlock put it, made to 'break the ice'. John thought about the peculiar man, and realised how he was different from Moriarty. Yes, perhaps a side of him was that cold, unemotional side that came with genius…but the other, which Sherlock was reluctant to admit he possessed, was kind and understanding to the extreme.
"Not that it would matter to you," John snapped, trying to put up a price as best he could – which wasn't easy with his best friend, even when the detective was being irritating as he was now.
He looked across at the sofa, and a tinge of guilt washed over him when he saw Sherlock's hurt expression.
"Well, Sherlock, I'm going out. Have fun here…by yourself." John didn't know, as he left the flat once more, whether that final remark was made in the hope to get the brilliant detective to join him or not.
After all, he could use his help, and the second reason (an idea John couldn't believe he was even entertaining) was because, deep down, he actually missed running through the London streets, solving crime with the enigmatic Sherlock Holmes. It was crazy, but John actually missed having Sherlock with him!
As John went out into the street, he resolved to begin the case…and to find Mycroft by the following night. He'd have to go to Whitehall first. He had no idea that, back at Baker Street, Sherlock wasn't just lying on the couch. He was really on the case of a first-class forger, and was doing quite well.
Sherlock had found the man's lair, the required evidence to get a conviction (in the form of video recordings from bugging that same lair), and was currently searching for the hideout of the man himself. He was busy…but not that John knew or cared.